Chapter 86

Master Kūkai and Jizōdōji were speaking.

Professor Nakata and the others stood frozen in place, eyes wide, convinced they were hallucinating.

That side?

An experiment they created?

Lord Shuten-dōji?

Petri dish?

…

One piece of information after another overwhelmed them, their minds overloaded like a CPU overheating, on the verge of exploding.

“That side? What does that mean?” Professor Nakata felt his mind was insufficient; recalling the tone and content of their conversation, he murmured in confusion: “Could it be that the relationship between demons and the supernatural isn’t hostile, but actually friendly? Have we misunderstood all along?”

The moment he finished speaking.

Professor Nakata immediately shook his head, rejecting the thought, his mind scanning through ancient texts he had read about demons, temples, and shrines.

“No! The texts record that they were indeed hostile, but not outright enemies—more like a strained relationship, not absolute opposition. Something must have happened to change it.”

As an expert in demonology, Professor Nakata knew well that ancient historical records were never baseless fabrications—they had grounds.

Suddenly, he recalled the demons eating people at Yunhu, the six-eyed demon eating people, and even animals eating people…

In an instant.

Professor Nakata suddenly understood: demons eating humans wasn’t necessarily hostility—it was merely natural selection, part of the ecological chain. Demons were born to consume humans; humans merely resisted being consumed.

Strictly speaking, they were ecological adversaries, not irreconcilable enemies, with potential for coexistence—like cats and dogs, naturally opposed, yet still capable of peaceful cohabitation.

The friendly conversation between Jizōdōji and Master Kūkai now proved it perfectly.

Their relationship was likely both adversary and ally, with the balance tipping far toward ally.

“Something must have happened—something that turned this ecological enmity into alliance, even… into shared front.”

Slapping his head hard, Professor Nakata muttered frantically to himself like a madman, recalling ancient texts: the records showed demons and the supernatural as ecological adversaries, yet now they appeared friendly—there must be a trigger, impossible without cause.

Then he carefully replayed their dialogue, suddenly lifting his head, eyes gleaming.

“It’s ‘that side’! The so-called ‘that side’ is what forced them onto the same side, changing their relationship.”

In their conversation, they had mentioned “that side” more than once.

At first, Professor Nakata assumed it meant the side of man-eating demons—but upon reflection, Jizōdōji had also harmed humans. Further, every part of their dialogue revealed the truth was far more complex than he’d imagined.

“What does ‘that side’ refer to?”

Professor Nakata frantically scratched the back of his head.

“Something powerful enough to make demons and the supernatural unite against it—yet…”

He struggled. Master Kūkai and Jizōdōji’s power was undeniable. If even they aligned, how powerful must “that side” be? What in history or ancient records could match such a scenario?

A flash of insight.

Professor Nakata’s face changed abruptly—he remembered what ancient records described that fit this scenario.

“The gods!!”

Only the gods fit this: supreme, the true rulers of heaven and earth, the only force powerful enough to make the supernatural and demons stand united.

But… that didn’t seem right either.

“It can’t be the gods,” Morita Takeshi interrupted. “Master Kūkai is using divine Buddhist power.”

Hearing this, Professor Nakata froze, deflating instantly.

He had overcomplicated things, forgetting the simplest possibility.

At that moment, Director Takahashi spoke up:

“If not the gods, then what? And if what Morita says is true—that the supernatural of shrines and temples are, in a sense, aligned with the gods—then doesn’t that mean the gods themselves are also on the same side?”

As his words spread, everyone’s breath caught, pupils shrinking, a chill crawling up their spines.

Gods, the supernatural, demons—all on the same side? How immense must that force be? If such a vast power united against “that side,” how terrifying must “that side” be?

For a moment, Director Takahashi and the others dared not think further.

Too terrifying.

What great horror did this involve? They were mere ordinary humans—better not pry into such upper-tier secrets. Who knew what hidden truth their minds might uncover, inviting the supernatural to come eliminate them?

Secrets are called secrets for a reason—they must remain unknown.

And the easiest way to keep a secret? Kill the witnesses.

Unfortunately, humans are wired with the genes of curiosity and self-destruction. After a moment of silence, Takahashi and the others couldn’t resist—they began thinking again.

Then.

Morita Takeshi spoke slowly: “I’m not sure if I heard right, but did Jizōdōji say the world where the six-eyed demon comes from was created by Shuten-dōji as an experiment?”

The next second.

Director Takahashi and the others turned their gazes toward him.

Meanwhile.

Online, the internet erupted.

Netizens were debating the relationship between demons and the supernatural, and now discussing the gods.

Clearly, their thoughts aligned with Professor Nakata’s—they were stunned by “that side,” and as Jizōdōji and Master Kūkai spoke, they turned to the six-eyed demon’s world and the suspected lord of demons, Shuten-dōji.

Countless netizens were horrified.

Emperor2333: “Did I hear that right? That world, much larger than Earth, was created by Shuten-dōji? And… just for an experiment?”

Salted Fish: “This is the biggest lab I’ve ever seen—no contest.”

Three-Year-Old Cute: “Friend upstairs, that’s not a lab. Jizōdōji just said he created the six-eyed demons purely to study ‘that side.’ In other words, this world is nothing but a cage for lab rats—a petri dish.”

Ryōgi: “How powerful is Shuten-dōji? He made a lab cage that’s at least tens of thousands of miles across—insane!”

At that moment, netizens suddenly understood.

Why, despite demons and the supernatural being so powerful, was Earth still so small, not destroyed? Because demons and the supernatural stood united—they could never truly fight each other, at most minor skirmishes.

Xuanxuan: “Maybe that’s why ancient texts depict demons as weak—they’re just playing around, never going all out, so they appear feeble by comparison.”

Example: “I think powerful demons and the supernatural might fight not on Earth, but beyond it—maybe even in outer space.”

At this moment.

Someone murmured a different theory.

“Actually, I think just because demons and the supernatural are on the same side doesn’t mean they don’t fight. Don’t forget ‘that side.’ So maybe Earth used to be much larger—perhaps demons, the supernatural, and ‘that side’ have been fighting since ancient times, and Earth shrank to this size. Remember, the solar system has eight planets, and Earth isn’t the biggest. Maybe Earth was once the largest, only shattered by war, leaving just this fragment.”

…