Chapter 76: Kūkai Hōshi

Silence!

Dead silence!

In the Oihiro combat zone, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department conference room, the Eastern Forces Headquarters, inside the building, before livestreams, and in front of televisions—everyone was utterly silent.

Heaven and earth seemed to halt in that instant; dust particles froze mid-air; all things fell still.

Watching the arrogant six-eyed demon dissolve into a thousand fireflies, everyone stared dumbfounded, as if caught in a dream.

One move?

No!

It shouldn’t even be counted as a move.

The old monk merely uttered a single Buddha’s name—and killed the six-eyed demon.

Everyone saw clearly, saw truly: from start to finish, the old monk never raised a hand; he only spoke one Buddha-sound, and the six-eyed demon vanished into ash beneath its radiance.

No one could immediately process the six-eyed demon’s death; all stood frozen, stunned in place.

And when they finally snapped back to reality, fully realizing the six-eyed demon was dead…

Countless people erupted; the livestream exploded.

【Dead!? The six-eyed demon just died like that?】

【So powerful! Is this what transcendence means? Now I finally understand why ancient humans coexisted with demons yet never went extinct—we had power to stand against them!】

【I can’t take it anymore—I’m converting to Buddhism tomorrow. From now on, I’m a Buddhist.】

【Join Buddhism—count me in.】

【Got it! Inspiration struck! I’m drawing a manga tomorrow with a monk as the protagonist—titled “I Became a Monk in Tokyo.”】

The six-eyed demon’s death didn’t just ignite the livestream—it also sparked wild celebration in Japan’s most important institutions: the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department and the Eastern Forces Headquarters. There was no trace of solemnity befitting national venues—only jubilation. General Suzuki Kū stood trembling, embracing his colleagues, roaring aloud to release his joy and exhilaration.

Though the six-eyed demon had destroyed only Oihiro, its terror and power had crushed everyone’s spirit, leaving them gasping for air, hopeless, seeing no future.

Imagine—if the six-eyed demon had lived, what followed wouldn’t have been merely the fall of Oihiro, but Japan’s annihilation, the end of every Japanese life.

Thus, no one was indifferent to the six-eyed demon’s fate, nor to the battle in Oihiro.

This was evident from the sheer number gathered before livestreams and televisions—nearly the entire nation.

Now that the six-eyed demon was dead, Japan’s extinction crisis was lifted—who could not rejoice, who could not cheer?

Amid the celebration, countless viewers before televisions and livestreams turned their eyes to the old monk, desperate to see what this monk—possessing incomparable transcendental power—looked like.

Earlier, they’d been too focused on the demon to notice him; now the demon was gone, they finally had time to look.

“Huh??”

The abbot of Asakusa Temple stared at the screen, a strange sense of familiarity washing over him.

“Why does he look so familiar? It’s as if… as if I’ve seen him before.” Other abbots present shared the same confusion—the old monk’s face felt eerily familiar, yet none could place him.

“Lord Tsuchimikado, may I ask—who is this person?”

In the room, someone asked.

In an instant.

All eyes turned to Tsuchimikado Kenji.

Of course! Why are we straining our brains guessing? Just ask Tsuchimikado-sama—he’d know!

“Uh…”

Feeling the burning stares, Tsuchimikado Kenji froze, his jaw twitching, wanting to curse.

How the hell would I know? The one connected to transcendence isn’t my Tsuchimikado family—it’s my granddaughter, my granddaughter!

He had no intention of revealing the truth; with the way everyone was staring, even if he spoke it, no one would believe him. After all, from the moment he tricked them to the moment transcendence appeared, every detail pointed toward the Tsuchimikado family possessing transcendental power.

As he struggled for an answer, he suddenly noticed a single comment in the livestream.

The comment was unmistakable: only four characters, but piled with dozens of question marks—impossible to miss.

Seeing it, he blinked, then unconsciously whispered aloud.

“Kūkai Hōshi.”

A thousand waves surged instantly.

At his words, the abbots present—especially those who’d felt the old monk’s familiarity—froze, their faces paling, gasping in shock.

“What?! Kūkai Hōshi?!”

“It’s him! It’s him! I remember now—yes, that’s Kūkai Hōshi!”

“My Buddha! Now I get it—I finally know why he looked familiar! That’s Kūkai Hōshi!”

…

Tokyo, Japan, Arakawa Ward, Oihiro.

“Kūkai Hōshi?” Director Takahashi frowned.

Just moments ago, Professor Nakata had told Director Takahashi, Mori Tian Takeshi, and others that the old monk was Kūkai Hōshi—but unlike the Asakusa Temple abbots, they had no clear memory of him, only a faint, vague sense of recognition.

“Kūkai Hōshi?” Director Takahashi thought hard, hesitating: “I feel like I’ve heard that name in history class… Wait… Professor Nakata, you’re not suggesting… Kūkai Hōshi is the one from the history textbook?”

Director Takahashi paled, his heart pounding, breath catching.

Anyone appearing in a history textbook was almost certainly dead—history meant ancient times. Even if modern history existed, no monk in modern Japan had ever been recorded in a textbook.

Currently, no monk in modern Japanese history had earned a place in textbooks. Thus, Director Takahashi’s shock was justified—he understood Professor Nakata meant a historical figure.

Could it be someone else with the same name? Impossible. This isn’t a personal name—it’s a Dharma name!

In Buddhism, Dharma names carry profound meaning, especially for enlightened masters. Their Dharma names symbolize not just the person, but their attainment and reverence. Monks may share Dharma names, but they avoid those of enlightened masters—using such a name would be sacrilege, an act of disrespect.

Therefore, Director Takahashi was certain: Professor Nakata meant the historical Kūkai Hōshi.

A figure from ancient times, surely long dead.

“Yes! The Kūkai Hōshi from the history textbook—the Heian-period monk who traveled to Tang China with the Japanese envoy, studied there for over two years, returned with countless Buddhist scriptures, profoundly shaping Japanese Buddhism ever since, even influencing it to this day, and establishing state Buddhism centered on the imperial family and the people!”

Professor Nakata spoke with fervor, quickly searching his phone browser for Kūkai Hōshi’s surviving portrait.

Director Takahashi, Mori Tian Takeshi, and the others leaned in—and their eyes bulged.

The old monk’s face matched Kūkai Hōshi’s portrait almost exactly.

Suddenly!

Director Takahashi snapped his head up, catching the key phrase in Professor Nakata’s words—his voice rose several octaves.

“Professor Nakata, didn’t you just say Kūkai Hōshi was a Heian-period monk? You’re certain it’s the Heian period? That’s over a thousand years ago—so does that mean… Kūkai Hōshi is at least a thousand years old?!”

……