Tsk. Tsk. Tsk…
Mizunotsuki Seiren suddenly felt a trace of ironic "shame."
He really was becoming an old hand at this.
Displaying power at just the right moment. Using concepts humans were already familiar with. Guiding events subtly, without ever stepping onto the stage himself.
Yes.
Takeda Mitsue now carried his cursed power.
Through the spell, Mizunotsuki Seiren had shared a Grade-One curse with her. As long as that connection existed, he could observe the world from Takeda Mitsue's perspective—and, when necessary, use that curse to gently correct her course if she strayed too far.
After all, system points were limited.
Copies, templates, emergency bursts—every option consumed resources.
So he had no choice but to live frugally and squeeze every last drop of value out of each "actor" he possessed.
What a waste it would be not to.
Closing his eyes, Mizunotsuki Seiren felt the smooth circulation of cursed energy within his body. The sensation of standing above the mundane still brought him quiet pleasure.
No hurry.
No hurry.
The best part of the show had yet to arrive.
The Next Day — Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department
"Are you serious…?"
Inspector Megure Juzo leaned back in his chair, staring at the elderly woman standing before him with an expression that bordered on disbelief.
A… shitamachi fortune-teller?
"It's the Shitamachi Goddess, young man," Takeda Mitsue corrected calmly.
The corner of Megure's mouth twitched.
In all his years on the force, this was the first time he had been called young man—and in his own office, no less.
His gaze shifted to Kudo Shinichi, who wore an awkward, helpless smile.
Don't look at me.I didn't want this either.
But facts were facts.
The list of names Takeda Mitsue had produced was accurate.
Uncomfortably accurate.
"…Is this altar really necessary?" Megure asked, rubbing his temples.
"Of course," Takeda Mitsue replied without hesitation.
Then she paused.
"…No. It isn't necessary."
The altar itself was useless.
It existed solely as a symbol—an expression of reverence toward the Curse King, the Fallen Angel, the Lord of All Demons.
As a messenger of such a being, how could she command the shikigami he bestowed without first showing respect?How could she not allow these mortals to witness a fragment of the truth?
And more than that—
Was this not her chance to publicly wash away decades of ridicule?
Her clouded eyes carried a depth born of long years. Memories of the divine domain surfaced in her mind. The shrine. The presence that had gazed upon her without contempt.
Yotsuya Miko.
That child truly was blessed.
From the very beginning, she had drawn the attention of something far greater.
Takeda Mitsue smiled bitterly at the thought.
In myths and legends, this was nothing unusual. Gods descending to love mortal women. Deities appointing shrine maidens on a whim.
So common that it was almost mundane.
Because of that, Takeda Mitsue no longer felt the urge to interfere.
Some destinies were never meant to be touched.
"…Shall we proceed?" she asked softly.
With Kudo Shinichi's nod of assurance, Megure Juzo examined the Shitamachi Goddess more carefully.
Once, she had been famous in religious circles.
But that was the past.
Now she was merely an old woman whose steps were unsteady, whose body looked frail.
And yet—she stood at the center of the most difficult case the Metropolitan Police Department had faced in years.
"How about this," Takeda Mitsue said calmly. "You prepare the altar. In return, I will provide more information."
Megure hesitated.
"…Fine."
Her confidence finally forced him to take a step back.
He still believed she might be making a fool of everyone.
But even if it was a joke, he had no choice but to endure it. The clues she provided were real—and the pressure from above left him no room to refuse.
Grateful or not, this case would be used as a performance either way.
Megure turned away, barking orders as he made preparations, his irritation obvious.
Kudo Shinichi, meanwhile, tried—consciously and unconsciously—to extract more information from Takeda Mitsue.
As a detective, he should have kept his distance.
But he had personally witnessed Seiichiro's inexplicable death.
He had seen reason collapse.
"There is a curse at work," Takeda Mitsue said evenly."It grows stronger with each death.""It will not stop until the entire zodiac is consumed.""It is invisible without clairvoyance.""And human weapons cannot harm it. This is no illusion—it is a genuine evil spirit."
Ridiculous.
The word burned in Kudo Shinichi's throat.
But he did not say it.
Because this was the same old woman who had already proven herself once.
Around them, dignitaries watched in silence.
Some were amused.Some were uneasy.
They expected a spectacle.
Yet a whisper of fear lingered:
What if it's real?
Megure Juzo moved quickly.
All individuals whose fates aligned with the remaining Heavenly Stems were gathered and placed into sealed rooms—one person per room, under constant surveillance.
No contact.No escape.
Takeda Mitsue glanced at Yukinoshita Haruno, who stood nearby with an easy smile.
Knowing there might be danger, she still came?
Why?
Takeda Mitsue misunderstood.
Yukinoshita Haruno had no intention of approaching the isolated individuals. The Metropolitan Police Department kept them far away, monitored only through cameras.
The powerful were cautious with their lives.
This place was far safer than people imagined.
And besides—Takeda Mitsue was an acquaintance.
Wasn't it natural to show support?
Hmph.
Another opportunistic woman.
Megure Juzo no longer had the energy to criticize such things.
Night fell.
Tokyo's neon lights flickered to life.
The Metropolitan Police Department, once quiet after dark, became brightly illuminated.
Surveillance screens glowed in the control room.
Megure Juzo.Kudo Shinichi.Takagi Wataru.Takeda Mitsue.Yukinoshita Haruno.
All of them stared at the monitors in silence.
Then—
Takeda Mitsue spoke.
Her voice was low, steady.
"It's here."
And in that instant, the atmosphere in the room changed completely.
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