Chapter 72: The Naive Girl, Her Simple Thoughts

The noisy crowd suddenly fell silent.

The chaotic scene—whether people panicked by the monster’s horror and desperately tried to flee from Higashio, or were crushed in the crowd trying to leave but blocked on the road, angrily quarreling with others, or even fighting to escape, teeth bloody from the brawl—

Not a single exception; everyone here instantly fell silent, stopped pushing, stopped fighting, stopped all movement, and even their anxious, restless minds grew calm.

They were dazed, unable to react, as if they had heard something, and then their hearts grew still.

Try to recall.

Yet they could not remember what they had heard; they only felt that the voice had cleansed their body, mind, and soul, washing away all troubles, anger, dissatisfaction, resentment…

Strange.

Under such circumstances, a voice so vital to calming them should not be forgotten—but they simply could not recall it.

“Amitabha.”

An old monk, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, walked slowly along the road, weaving through the crowd toward Higashio.

He brushed past people.

Only after he had passed did they slowly realize someone had walked by them.

Like a single grain in the vast ocean—unremarkable, hard to catch.

Like a flower reflected in water—seen in the water, reaching in to touch it, ripples spread, the flower vanished, not a flower yet seeming like one—profoundly mysterious.

Many people noticed the old monk and felt the same sensation.

They merely sensed someone passing by, turned to look, and saw only the back of a monk with an ethereal, faintly ancient aura—then, in the blink of an eye, the scene twisted: the old monk, who had been just ahead, was now on the other side.

These people were certain: the old monk walked slowly, yet in a blink, he had crossed a great distance—elusive and otherworldly.

When they blinked again, the old monk was gone, vanished into the crowd, as if he had never appeared.

“An illusion?”

They were bewildered, as if seeing a ghost in broad daylight—but felt no fear, only serenity.

“That… did an old monk just pass by me?”

Even as he spoke, he himself froze.

Wait—why did I know he was an old monk? I never even saw his face.

Was it because the monk’s back carried a faint ancient aura, so I unconsciously assumed he was old?

“No, I didn’t see any monk,” said a stranger beside him, looking puzzled.

This guy must be crazy—where’s any old monk?

And can’t you see? Everyone here suddenly calmed down, no one moving. If someone had been moving, it would’ve been obvious.

Yet.

Just as the stranger and those around him thought this, someone farther away spoke.

“I just saw an old monk pass by me too.”

The speaker was ten meters away.

Because the road had fallen silent, even a voice ten meters away was easily heard—but strangely, why had the people beside him and nearby not seen him, while only the man ten meters away had? And even he was the only one who saw him—his own neighbors saw nothing.

Then, as a few more people said they had brushed past an old monk, everyone grew puzzled, scratching their heads, faces full of confusion and astonishment.

It shouldn’t be.

The road is so quiet, no one moving—why didn’t we see the old monk, yet only a few did?

If we were hallucinating, it couldn’t be this many people hallucinating.

If they were mistaken, even less likely—one person mistaken is possible, but not dozens.

Meanwhile.

As everyone on the highway was stunned and confused,

Inside the Higashio lockdown zone,

“The Atsuta Shrine’s Ōmikami family?” Mori Tian Takeshi’s gaze settled on Ōmikami Xia Mei, hesitating slightly: “Ōmikami shaman, are you certain you can fight the monster?”

It wasn’t that he doubted Ōmikami Xia Mei’s extraordinary status—she was simply too young.

In his mind, enlightened masters should be elderly; after all, attaining supernatural power isn’t easy—it requires years of arduous cultivation.

He feared Ōmikami Xia Mei’s cultivation was insufficient to defeat the six-eyed monster.

“I don’t know.”

Ōmikami Xia Mei shook her head, responding awkwardly:

“Actually, this is my first time fighting a monster. I can’t be sure I can defeat it—but I want to try. Not to show off, but because I don’t want anyone else hurt by monsters. I just want to do what I can.”

In fact,

On the way here, Ōmikami Xia Mei had watched the monster’s terrifying destruction via live stream—and in that instant, her heart wavered, doubt rising.

Doubt in herself, doubt in Shinto.

She recalled how, before leaving, her grandfather had pulled her aside, eyes red, desperately pleading with her, insisting he didn’t know if Shinto’s supernatural power even existed, but he knew neither he nor his granddaughter was supernatural.

At first, she thought he feared the monster was too strong—even he couldn’t defeat it, so she’d just be walking to her death.

But when she saw the live stream, that thought vanished.

The monster wasn’t just strong—it was apocalyptic.

Could human strength possibly fight a monster?

Ōmikami Xia Mei doubted herself, her heart shaken. Perhaps… her grandfather’s words in the deep mountains were true—that Shinto was fake, all a lie told to her.

She considered retreating.

That thought never faded—it only grew stronger, until after seeing the monster annihilate the entire First Division, it swelled to infinity.

Yet.

In the end, she did not retreat, because she saw the monster brutally kill an officer, devouring his eyes.

In an instant,

Faces flashed in her mind—her mother, her father, her grandfather, many kind elders of her family, her newest friend, Kamikawa Mitsu—all those she knew.

If monsters ran rampant and human strength could not resist, the world would fall into ruin—and all these loved ones would not survive.

They… might die like the officer—skull pierced, eyes torn out, head severed—and perhaps even worse.

No.

No way!

Ōmikami Xia Mei panicked—she didn’t want to see her family die.

She must understand: her obsession with Shinto wasn’t because of its power, but because of the justice and kindness it embodied, which she deeply loved.

Ōmikami Xia Mei simply believed, purely and simply, that Shinto brought happiness, that it could fill the world with peace—and in such a peaceful world, if everyone was happy, wouldn’t that mean her family and friends were happy too?

At this moment,

Ōmikami Xia Mei felt no retreat—she hardened her belief even further: Shinto was real! Her grandfather had lied.

Because she dared not imagine—if Shinto was fake, who could fight the monsters? This was only one monster; more would come—Yunhu’s vision proved there were countless more.

If Shinto was fake, how could humanity resist a full-scale monster invasion?

She deceived herself, prayed to herself.

She hoped—she fervently, desperately hoped—Shinto was real, so humanity might still have a sliver of hope, a way to defeat the monsters, so her family might live.

So she made a decision: to try fighting the monster, to prove Shinto existed.

Since monsters were real, the possibility that Shinto and Buddhism were supernatural could not be dismissed.

You may think her foolish—but this was the only thing she could do. After all, if one monster appeared, a second, a third, even a mass invasion was inevitable—and then it would be too late to act.

She had prepared herself: even if she died at the monster’s hands, if she proved Shinto existed, it would all be worth it—at least she gave her family a spark of hope to survive.

“I’m going.”

Ōmikami Xia Mei gripped her exorcism bow tightly in one hand, the other resting on the ancient satchel holding her spirit paper talismans, lips bitten red as she walked toward the monster.

Divine One,

If you truly exist…

Please protect my family, protect me in defeating the monster—I don’t want my family to die.

…

(PS: Four chapters today!!!! Definitely real content!!!!)

(PS: Some readers might find Ōmikami Xia Mei annoying, her thoughts foolish. But you’re viewing this from a god’s-eye perspective—you think she’s a fool for dragging others into danger and now rushing to die, so you judge her as stupid. But you can’t see it that way.

Ōmikami Xia Mei doesn’t know any better. You must see it from her view: raised since childhood with Shinto teachings, she truly believes in it, and unintentionally dragged others into danger—but she doesn’t even realize she did. She simply believes in Shinto, refuses to let her faith be insulted. And her decision here? I ask you: if anyone learned their family was in mortal danger, who wouldn’t act without hesitation? Don’t judge the characters with a god’s-eye view….)