The flow of events in the outside world resumed.
Morimoto Leona wore a spotless white gown, her figure graceful. Having just bathed, she exuded a fresh scent, appearing as a completely different person from the previously violent queen.
She was now nestled submissively in Kanjuro's arms, her demeanor delicate and clinging, as if she had found her only home.
When the chaotic crowd in the school regained their senses, they saw the scene of Kanjuro and Morimoto Leona appearing before them in close intimacy. This abrupt transition left everyone's minds blank.
Takashiro Hiroko covered her mouth in disbelief, looking at Kanjuro with complex eyes. She hadn't expected the man she loved to have such charm that even the overbearing heir of the Morimoto family was subdued by him.
Yuigahama Yui stared at Morimoto Leona with envy, even a hint of jealousy, thinking to herself: 'If I could be as special as her, would Master Kanjuro look at me more and return to my side?'
Then, she comforted herself: 'But it doesn't matter. As long as I can bear Master Kanjuro's child and use the bond of blood to connect us, I won't have to worry about him not taking responsibility for me.'
Not far away, Yukinoshita Yukino was pale-faced with hollow eyes. She was still immersed in the immense pain and numbness of killing her own brother, out of place with the surrounding clamor.
Yukinoshita Kiyomasa's body had long been taken to the cold morgue by an ambulance, leaving behind only endless mysteries and the impending storm.
"Sister, you... you and Master Kanjuro are?"
Morimoto Reina hurried forward. Seeing her sister's intimacy with Kanjuro, she was completely bewildered, her heart filled with confusion and a hint of unease.
Hearing this, Morimoto Leona looked up. Though she was nestled in Kanjuro's arms, the innate arrogance in her eyes had not completely faded; it was just that this arrogance was now entirely at the service of Kanjuro.
She spoke in a declamatory tone: "Kanjuro is the only man I, Morimoto Leona, recognize. He is the master of my life. From today onwards, everything in this school, and even the entire Morimoto family, must unconditionally obey Kanjuro's orders!"
This declaration caused an uproar among the surrounding crowd. They found it difficult to understand what could have happened in such a short time (to them) to cause such a world-shaking change in attitude.
They naturally didn't know that in the realm where time was distorted, Kanjuro had subjected Morimoto Leona to seven days and seven nights of...
"soul-deep" "baptism" and "remodeling,"
thoroughly twisting that deep-rooted pride and hatred for men into an absolute obsession and obedience toward him personally.
The dark bible in Kanjuro's hand seemed to sense the complete fall of another soul, as the strange patterns on the cover emitted a faint but profound light.
He quietly activated the Eye of Truth and looked at Morimoto Leona—her soul spectrum had completely stabilized into a twisted chaotic color of "unwavering loyalty." Her worldview had been completely reshaped, turning her into his most pious believer and... a being who depended on him like a daughter.
Just then, a familiar chill originating from the depths of his soul suddenly rose.
Kanjuro felt his scalp tingle, and the surrounding scenery instantly blurred and distorted.
The next moment, he was once again inside that dark temple that could not be described by common logic.
Inside the temple, the scene was as frenzied as ever.
Writhing tentacles wove between twisted pillars, the space of non-Euclidean geometry shifted constantly, and low whispers containing maddening knowledge echoed directly in the depths of his consciousness.
That elegant and proper female avatar dressed in a magnificent evening gown—one of the manifestations of Nyarlathotep's will—was smiling at him. The smile was perfect yet bone-chilling.
"Another wonderful 'Opera of Corruption,' Kanjuro."
Her voice was like aged wine, mellow and dangerous. "To completely dismantle a soul full of hatred and a desire for control from the inside, and then reshape it into a perfect vessel existing only for you... This extreme 'distortion' is a supreme delicacy to please my Lord."
She approached gracefully, her cold fingertips seeming to lack physical form as they lightly touched the center of Kanjuro's brow, where the Eye of Truth was located.
"Your 'Eye of Truth' has drunk its fill of another high-quality fallen soul. It is time to grant it a new 'vision'."
Her red lips parted slightly as she uttered the name of a forbidden authority,
"This is—the power of the 'Thousand Faces Garment.'
It allows your consciousness to temporarily strip away your physical shell, like putting on an invisible garment, and slip into any 'vessel' you wish to occupy."
Kanjuro felt a certain new 'organ' or 'perception' being awakened in the depths of his soul.
"To use it," the avatar continued to explain, her voice carrying enticement,
"you need a 'coordinate.'
This can be someone whose soul's darkness your Eye of Truth has peered deeply into (such as Yukinoshita Yukino or Morimoto Leona), a servant in whom you have left a powerful mental imprint, or any 'fragile' soul within your sight and mental reach. Of course, the more strong-willed and powerful the individual's soul, the stronger the resistance, and the greater the difficulty and risk of possession."
She turned gracefully, her skirt cutting through the viscous air.
"When you successfully 'wear' this 'living garment,' you will be able to perfectly take over everything about them—their memories, their skills, their social relationships, and even... use the special abilities the other party might possess to a limited extent.
You are them, yet they are no longer themselves.
Meanwhile, your original body will fall into an unconscious slumber and needs to be properly protected."
The avatar's smile deepened, carrying the unique malicious humor of Nyarlathotep.
"Think about it, you can be anyone. You can use Yukinoshita Yukino's hands to resolve unnecessary trouble, possess your enemies to sow chaos from within, make them lose the support of their friends and family, and destroy everything they cherish with their own hands... This is far more... elegant than simple slaughter and control, isn't it?"
"However, be careful,"
She issued a soft warning like a lover's whisper, yet it carried an icy chill. "Every possession is a test of self-identity. In the process of playing others, do not lose yourself in unfamiliar memories and emotions; otherwise... you might forget which side is the real 'Kanjuro.' Moreover, if the 'vessel' you possess is destroyed during the process, your consciousness will suffer a heavy blow, and you might even become displaced, a lonely soul wandering in the cracks of time and space."
She reached out, and a chaotic orb of light that constantly shifted its form—as if composed of countless soul fragments and shadows—emerged in her palm; that was the very source of the Thousand Faces Garment's authority.
"Accept this gift, my dear theater director. Go and weave more frenzied dramas with 'identity' as your stage. Let me admire how you use this Thousand Faces Garment to turn the interpersonal bonds of this world into the most lethal nooses around their necks."
The chaotic orb of light suddenly vanished into Kanjuro's Eye of Truth.
A violent shudder, as if his soul were being torn apart and reorganized, surged through his entire body. Countless blurred faces, fragmented memories, and various emotional pulses flashed rapidly through his consciousness.
He let out a low grunt, feeling this new authority—full of infinite possibilities yet extremely dangerous—taking root in his soul.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze seemed to penetrate the barriers of physical space, seeing those invisible "Soul Hangers" floating above everyone, available for him to "wear."
A more secretive and frenzied infiltration and corruption was about to begin.
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