Chapter 40

This scene shocked the world.

All demons bow in reverence; heaven and earth submit.

“Is this a demon? Are you sure it’s not Amaterasu descending?”

Director Takahashi’s hair stood on end, his eyes bulging.

No one in the conference room answered his question—no one could, no one knew how.

“Professor Nakata, which demon is the Lord of Chimei Wangliang?” Section Chief Saito was stunned.

Professor Nakata did not answer, falling silent for a long while.

Long moments passed.

Then he spoke slowly, his words shaking all who heard.

“I don’t know which demon is the Lord of Chimei Wangliang, but I can be certain he is one of those few—most likely one of the three legendary demons…”

His voice trembled.

By the end, his tone rose several octaves, nearly a moan, his heart in violent turmoil.

The livestreamer who had stayed in Arakawa Ward, lured by the gift, now found his stream exploding.

【I have seen the Lord of Chimei Wangliang!】

【I have seen the Lord of Chimei Wangliang!】

【I have seen the Lord of Chimei Wangliang!】

…

The chat was completely flooded with identical messages.

Regardless of age or gender, all were awed by the breathtaking scene in Yunhu, trembling with awe and deep reverence.

Japanese society is under immense pressure; everyone, even the wealthy and powerful, endures constant strain, and beneath this oppression, who hasn’t dreamed of rising above all others?

Wasn’t the vision of demons and heaven bowing to one another in Yunhu precisely that longed-for fantasy?

To lord over all, unchallenged, supreme alone beneath heaven and earth.

The ancients also said: the strong are honored, the weak are devoured—this is an eternal, unchanging law, and this law reveals one truth: people revere the strong, revere those who are powerful—it is human instinct, the instinct of all things.

Just as Guan Yu, Confucius, and Mozi—all were mighty figures, revered by all.

The Lord of Chimei Wangliang is no different.

He is immensely powerful; heaven and earth acknowledge him as master. Even though he is a demon, not human, it does not prevent people from revering him.

Even across species, if one is strong enough, they are worshipped—like lions, eagles, tigers, kings of beasts, revered by all nations as symbols of power.

Humans are simply this kind of creature.

When encountering someone stronger, they feel envy, even hatred.

But when that person is vastly, impossibly stronger—so far beyond reach that one can only look up in awe—envy and hatred vanish, leaving only reverence and respect.

【I want to cling to the Lord of Chimei Wangliang’s leg】

【Damn it, we don’t need American aid—why not seek protection from the Lord of Chimei Wangliang?】

【Agreed, agreed—he’s our country’s demon, one of us】

【Lord of Chimei Wangliang is the best!】

【America is always foreign, but demons have had ties with our country since ancient times—in familiarity, it’s surely the Lord of Chimei Wangliang】

Humans are fickle creatures—this is true.

With the appearance of the Lord of Chimei Wangliang, those who once feared demons as cruel now abandoned their panic and turned to worship.

Of course, some still held onto reason.

【Are you insane? That’s a demon—it eats people】

【Wake up! Thirty people were just eaten by demons】

【Fucking hell, we deserve to be aided by America】

These people typed their messages quickly, trying to awaken their countrymen—not to blindly worship, to wake up and see reality.

Yet their messages had barely been sent.

A change occurred within Yunhu.

“This…”

The person who had been frantically typing to warn viewers to stay rational froze in shock, pupils dilated.

The twilight sky.

Beside the carriage, a demon stepped out.

With each step, space rippled; each footfall glowed, walking through air as if treading a golden lake, ripples spreading, radiating light.

This demon was unlike the others present—not grotesque, but stunningly beautiful.

He wore a half-mask of green wood, concealing his right face, leaving only his left side visible.

Even so, his aura remained unmistakable—demon energy radiated, a refined, ethereal charm, half-sage, half-demon, leaving viewers dazed.

Dressed in pure white robes, spotless.

The fading sunset light fell upon his face, not a trace of sorrow or despair—only cold serenity, like moonlight on a quiet night, tranquil as a heron drifting among idle clouds.

Standing there, his presence was naturally noble and extraordinary.

Like a gentle, refined scholar.

Yet this elegant, noble scholar’s eyes were a demonic crimson.

But the crimson eyes did not mar his nobility—they added a mysterious, eerie elegance, an uncanny authority!

He walked across the nine heavens like a monarch uninterested in worldly affairs, returning to the mountains and forests, a single oil lamp, books as companions, speaking not of power or wealth, but of the beauty within the pages.

As if strolling through fields, the scholar approached, his gaze calm, sweeping over the girl and the Sakura Group’s underling—both shuddered involuntarily, as if stripped bare, every secret laid open before his eyes, with no escape.

Then he turned his gaze upon the demons, speaking softly.

His voice was cold.

“I believe you all know—today, no killing.”

The cold voice carried forth.

The sun and stars trembled; the moon’s glow dimmed; this entire realm faced apocalypse.

A vast, invisible pressure surged across the eight directions, covering heaven and earth; the demonic aura here instantly froze, as if solidified.

This pressure felt tangible.

The demons felt as if ancient mountains crushed them, unable to breathe, unable to move; a wave of dread spread through the land.

The girl and the Sakura Group underlings trembled violently, as if plunged into a frozen abyss for ten thousand years, cold from head to toe, souls shuddering, scalps tingling, every hair weighing a hundred jin, threatening to tear their skin off.

They recognized it.

The cold voice echoing from the horizon earlier—this refined scholar had spoken it.

One phrase shook heaven and earth, shook mountains, shook sun and moon.

The demons who had bowed in submission now convulsed.

They looked up and noticed the great Nyūdō, his massive eyes filled with deep fear, panic, regret.

Who could have imagined?

The once arrogant, invincible Nyūdō was now terrified, sweating profusely.

Not just Nyūdō—all other demons were the same.

Simply by this scholar’s single sentence, they were reduced to trembling in terror.

“Lord Cimu , I was wrong.”

“Lord Cimu , we didn’t mean to— we just…”

“Lord Cimu …”

Some demons cried out in panic, trying to explain.

But before they could finish—

“Noisy.”

Beside the scholar, a cold, childish voice spoke, utterly emotionless.

A cute child, like a god of wind, his robes fluttering without wind, seated atop a bone scythe taller than himself—he was adorable, yet his demon aura shook mountains and rivers; his pupils were inhuman, shaped like weasel eyes, icy and cold.

In an instant—

Wind rose, clouds surged!

The earth erupted into a crimson gale.

The storm raged like madness, ravaging all directions.

Wherever it passed—

The wind howled like ghosts screaming, gods roaring.

…

(PS: Readers, please note carefully—the demon stepped out from beside the carriage, not from within it. The one inside is not Cimutongzi . I fear readers might miss this detail, thinking Cimu emerged from the carriage, when he actually stepped out from beside it.)