Chapter 131: When the Radiance Fades, the World Returns to Silence

The online, livestream, and on-site chaos erupted in stunned shock.

At this moment.

Everyone suddenly understood: the Divine Island world was not from Huaguo; the reason it bore Huaguo architecture was simply because it was the world where Abe no Nakamaro resided—Abe no Nakamaro had deep historical ties to Huaguo, hence the architectural style resembled Huaguo's, hence the celestial steles bore Han characters.

"Director Takahashi, Professor Beishan, look quickly!" Professor Zhongtian exclaimed with excitement.

Following his gaze to the relaxed figure beside Abe no Nakamaro, Director Takahashi and the other both widened their pupils and shouted in unison.

"Master Abe!!"

On the other side.

The White House, USA.

"My God!" Akawa slid straight off his presidential chair, pale with terror.

When the Tochigi Prefecture incident occurred, Akawa immediately joined the US high-ups in monitoring the situation.

No other reason: the previous saliva incident, while embarrassing the US, had also made the US pay closer attention to Japan's supernatural phenomena—especially after Japan deliberately leaked to the US the "Return of the Gods," nearly giving Akawa a heart attack on the spot.

Did those internet netizens who only fantasize and daydream actually turn out to be right?!

Akawa remembered clearly: after the saliva incident, the US internet exploded with debate over whether Native American gods were retaliating against the US; one netizen had claimed the Native American gods were still present, and that their two-hundred-year silence might simply mean they were away and hadn't returned.

That speculation aligned perfectly with the "Return of the Gods."

Since then, the US had increased funding again, studying the saliva cluster, and dispatched US spies to infiltrate Japan and monitor its condition; when Tochigi Prefecture reported a suspected supernatural event, the US spies rushed there at maximum speed and transmitted the footage back to the White House.

At this moment.

In the White House conference room, silence reigned—so quiet a pin could be heard dropping.

"That… that… is the person who spat at us?" Akawa, still seated on the floor, ignored his disheveled hair, pointing at the figure standing beside Abe no Nakamaro on screen: Abe no Mitate no Miko.

His question met with silence.

It wasn't that they were uncertain—it was that they dared not confirm it.

It was too terrifying.

They had assumed the saliva-spitter was weak, since he'd merely spat at the US without any further retaliation; Akawa and the others had concluded Abe no Mitate no Miko was weak—at least not as powerful as Master Konghai, perhaps only at the level of a six-eyed demon, so he could only threaten them out of fear of US nuclear strikes.

After a long while, Akawa's assistant finally replied: "It's him."

Akawa: "..."

The next second.

In everyone's view, Akawa swiftly pulled out his phone, opened his Twitter account, selected a tweet, and deleted it—then deleted it from the drafts folder too.

So fast, the entire process took less than a few seconds—almost breaking the world record for typing speed.

The assistant's lip twitched; as Akawa's personal assistant, he knew exactly which tweet Akawa had deleted.

It was the tweet condemning Abe no Mitate no Miko.

Because they'd previously assumed Abe no Mitate no Miko was weak, Akawa—who always liked to bully the weak using his nation's power—had, after watching the video of the deceased king spitting saliva, immediately posted a tweet with fierce language, accusing Abe no Mitate no Miko, demanding an apology, and threatening consequences for his actions.

The content was as passionate and fiery as possible, brimming with hot-blooded fervor, fully embodying what patriotism meant.

Akawa's assistant still remembered: after posting the tweet, Akawa had stood tall and proud, nostrils flaring with triumph.

Clearly, Akawa had felt arrogant, smug, and secretly delighted—here was a normal man daring to confront the supernatural, a sensation incredibly satisfying, a sense of superiority and intense vanity fulfilled.

Had he not been a national leader needing to maintain dignity, Akawa would have walked straight onto the street to brag about it.

Look, how awesome am I? I'm doing my utmost for my country, daring to stand up to the supernatural.

Look at me, I'm confronting the supernatural—yet he hasn't dared to reply even one word, haha, he must be terrified.

But now, arrogance was gone, replaced only by dread and lingering fear.

There was no choice—Akawa was terrified.

Including Akawa, every US high-ranking official present had seen clearly: the figure standing behind Abe no Nakamaro on screen was Abe no Mitate no Miko; his aura, though not as brilliant as Abe no Nakamaro's, still blazed fiercely, rendering him like a divine deity.

Tremendous divine majesty, swallowing mountains and rivers, dominating all directions.

Even through the screen, one could feel that power—this was unquestionably a figure beyond the reach of any current-world technology; even launching a "Big Ivan" at him would be useless.

"Quickly notify Twitter to delete every trace of my tweet—leave not a single fragment."

As he spoke, Akawa's back was soaked in sweat—he was visibly terrified.

"He won't hold a grudge over my tweet, right?" Akawa sought reassurance, still shaken.

Akawa's assistant and the US high-ups internally rolled their eyes.

Won't hold a grudge? You must be dreaming—they spat at the US because Japan was bullied; just think how petty they are. You directly tweeted insults to their face? That's a guaranteed mortal enemy—even if not mortal, they'll definitely make your life hell.

Don't look at me—I know what that look means. You're thinking: it's been days since I posted, and he hasn't responded yet, so maybe it's fine?

I think you're overestimating—perhaps he just took the Kusanagi back to report, and hasn't even seen your tweet yet.

After all, Abe no Mitate no Miko likely went to another world—a world without Wi-Fi or the internet, where he couldn't see your tweet.

Suddenly.

The US high-ups exchanged glances, communicating silently.

Our US leader is probably finished—maybe we should start considering the next leader.

Then, to avoid revealing their thoughts to Akawa, the US high-ups opened their mouths to comfort him.

After all, Akawa was still the US leader; they couldn't let a national leader panic so badly—it would be disgraceful.

But just then.

"Oh my fucking God! Look quick!" one of the US high-ups suddenly shouted.

The shattered heavens and earth.

The realm transformed into eternal, sunken yin-land—now, as the sky parted, Abe no Nakamaro arrived; the yin-land vanished, and heaven and earth returned to their original state—but Tamamo-no-Mae remained unmoved, ignoring it all, her boundless divine power still unrestrained.

A hand as white as jade reached out, intending to obliterate this place and everything within it.

Divine radiance trembled, surging across all realms.

Under the gaze of everyone, tens of millions of people, the parted heavens rippled, and Abe no Nakamaro also stretched out one hand, crossing two worlds from the godlike floating island realm where he stood, traversing countless vast distances, his hand reaching toward Tamamo-no-Mae's jade-white hand.

This very moment.

Countless people went mad, screaming and shouting as if possessed.

The jade-white hand of Tamamo-no-Mae and the hand of Abe no Nakamaro, which the power of an entire nation could not oppose, collided together, erupting with an inexpressible brilliance.

Heaven and earth shook; the myriad realms of all the heavens trembled.

When the brilliance faded, the world returned to silence.

……