Chapter 165: Strange Circumstances

The image was fleeting, flashing by in an instant.

But precisely in that moment of distraction, human attention is both most focused and most scattered—and Director Takahashi inadvertently caught it.

His body suddenly trembled.

The next moment.

Amidst the bewildered gazes of everyone, Director Takahashi, as if possessed, snatched up the tablet on the desk.

"Pull up the satellite footage—I need the satellite images from yesterday that captured the Asian anomaly from above."

No sooner had Director Takahashi spoken than he handed the tablet to another subordinate:

"Put this video on the main screen. When I tell you to pause, pause. When I tell you to play frame by frame, do it."

"Isn't this the video of our Japanese anomaly?"

As the video played on the screen, everyone realized the footage being shown—the "Deceased King"—was not footage of some other anomaly, but Japan's.

What was there to see in Japan's anomaly video?

They were all in Japan, having witnessed the anomaly firsthand—why watch the video again? Besides, they'd already seen it; the content was just Japan's anomaly.

Hidden meaning?

As everyone pondered, the screen video began playing.

The footage moved from deep, ancient forests to bustling metropolises, as if a person had walked through each location—each scene shift marked a new place, each landscape different, yet every one contained a shrine, culminating in Daiyamō Park, where Takeshi Morita was present.

"Fast-forward."

Director Takahashi said, as if the shrines were not the focus.

Time ticked by; the footage kept fast-forwarding until the anomaly appeared—the sky filled with eight million gods—and the view shifted to an overhead perspective, where only a single street slowly rose into view, then a district, then a city, then an island, as if the viewer sat aboard a rocket gazing down at the earth.

At that very moment, Director Takahashi shouted loudly.

"Frame-by-frame playback."

The fast-forward footage halted instantly, playing one frame at a time, like a slideshow.

Everyone stared blankly, silent, holding their curiosity and waiting patiently.

Just as the overhead view surged from Japan across the entirety of Asia, revealing nearly half of Asia from high above, Director Takahashi shouted "Stop."

The image froze.

It stopped at an overhead angle that captured the entire Japanese island, clearly showing the eight million gods crowding Japan's sky, and also revealing the territories of surrounding nations, even nearly half of Asia.

At that moment.

Some stared at the screen, still confused by the obvious image of eight million gods; others, having noticed something, turned pale.

"What's wrong with this image?" asked a senior official, puzzled. "It's just eight million gods—what's unusual about that?"

Section Chief Saito slapped the official's head: "Look at the damn spot near China, not the eight million gods!"

"You hit me—what the hell?!"

The offended official, annoyed at being slapped, turned his gaze—and froze in shock.

The light radiating from the eight million gods was too intense, dazzling and powerful, causing many senior officials to focus solely on the gods.

Now, prompted by Section Chief Saito, they suddenly noticed: the light gathered by the eight million gods shone brilliantly, boundlessly radiant, bathing Japan's sky in golden brilliance and radiating outward to the surrounding seas and lands.

Such light should have spread outward in a perfect circle from its center.

But it didn't.

The light spreading from Japan was missing a section—specifically, it had been blocked.

In the footage, the light spreading toward China's direction was obstructed.

Like a candle burning, its light radiating outward, yet one side was blocked by an invisible wall, leaving the area behind it untouched by the candle's glow.

Because the ascending footage moved too quickly, and anyone watching this video would naturally fixate on the divine anomaly, almost no one noticed the light's obstruction.

Professor Beishan rubbed his aging eyes, leaned forward, and suddenly cried out.

"This is definitely connected to China!"

Because the screen was large and the image frozen, the details were crystal clear.

Every ray of light from the eight million gods that reached China's territory was instantly blocked.

Yet, it wasn't so much blocked as it was dissolving—upon touching China's territory, the light vanished entirely, unable to penetrate even a fraction.

They saw clearly: the obstructed portion wasn't a straight cut—it precisely matched the shape of China's territorial boundary, astonishingly precise.

"The light only disappears when it nears China's territory—say this has nothing to do with China, and I'll let you chop off my head," the slapped official declared.

"Did China's transcendents do this?" Director Takahashi asked the group.

Section Chief Saito stared intently at the screen and said gravely:

"Not necessarily. That light came from eight million gods—it's more likely China's own gods."

At these words, everyone froze.

China's gods did this? That meant China's gods hadn't died?

Professor Zhongtian's face darkened: "China's gods weren't among those returning—not because they refused, nor because they died, but because they never left China?"

What did "returning" mean?

It meant coming home from afar.

If one was already home, there was no "returning."

"No need to go back to the original battlefield?" Professor Beishan asked, frowning.

Everyone was equally baffled.

Abe no Okinomaro had said the gods would return from the original battlefield—this implied all gods had gone there for some reason.

Why did all gods go, but China's gods did not?

It made no sense.

A look of confusion on his face.

Everyone felt this speculation was unreasonable.

"Could it be that the Chinese deities returned early?" a senior official proposed. "If the Chinese deities returned first, they wouldn't count as part of the return cohort—after all, I'm not returning with your main force; I'm a lone wolf who came back ahead of everyone."

"I think…"

Before Director Takahashi and the others could finish speaking, Professor Beishan—who, due to his age and presbyopia, had to stand at the very front of the screen to see the image—suddenly shouted.

"What the hell!!"

Before anyone could react in shock and ask what Professor Beishan was up to, he turned to face them all and spoke in alarm.

"That… you should remember, don't you? How our country lost in the Second World War."

At these words, everyone's cheeks twitched violently.

How could anyone possibly forget? It was taught in history class—but wait, Professor Beishan, what the hell are you doing? Why are you dragging this up out of nowhere?

We're talking about the Chinese deities now—why are you bringing up the Second World War?

"Of course we remember," replied Director Takahashi and the others, though they didn't understand Professor Beishan's intent.

"We lost the Second World War because we attacked Shinchiku Port, dragging in the then-latent United States, which led to our defeat."

As soon as Director Takahashi finished speaking, Professor Beishan immediately asked again.

"Then why did we attack Shinchiku Port and drag in the United States?"

"Didn't I just say? Because we attacked Shinchiku Port!"

"No, you didn't understand my question. I'm asking why we attacked Shinchiku Port and dragged in the United States in the first place. It was unnecessary—we could have slowly nibbled away, taking one target at a time, steady and sure. Why rush to antagonize every enemy at once? Doesn't that seem completely irrational?"

As Professor Beishan spoke, he took a drag from his cigarette.

"You might say it was arrogance—but that doesn't make sense either. Who gets this arrogant? This isn't kids fighting—this was real warfare, where one misstep could mean total defeat, and defeat was unacceptable. Making such a decision was utterly irrational."

…

(PS: 0.0 Uh, the second character in "Second World War" was intentionally misspelled.)