Genichi's figure emerged from the void and landed in the middle of the Demeter Familia's living room.
His body swayed slightly, as though he had just returned from a long journey, before he steadied himself.
His face was as black as the bottom of a pot, his brows knotted tightly together, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were filled with suppressed fury and deep disgust, like he'd just crawled out of a sewer and wanted nothing more than to scrub himself clean ten times over.
"I just got sent to the Colosseum again."
Genichi walked over to the sofa and dropped onto it, sinking into the soft cushions.
His fingers clenched hard around the armrest until his knuckles turned white, then loosened, then tightened again.
He repeated the motion several times, as though desperately suppressing something.
"I met another version of myself."
His voice was calm, but every word sounded as though it had been forced through clenched teeth.
"From a female-oriented cultivation world."
Demeter's brows furrowed slightly.
She walked over and sat beside Genichi, gently placing her hand over the back of his.
Her fingertips were cool, carrying a faint sense of comfort.
Genichi glanced at her.
He didn't pull his hand away, nor did he say anything.
He simply took a deep breath and began explaining.
He spoke quickly, as though he didn't want to linger on those memories any longer than necessary.
That Genichi had lived in a female-oriented cultivation world.
He had been the chief disciple of a prestigious sect, exceptionally talented and already possessing profound cultivation.
He had a beautiful master and three junior sisters, each with their own charms.
Everything had seemed perfectly normal.
Perfectly pleasant.
Then the junior brother appeared.
His master began showing favoritism.
His junior sisters grew distant.
The sect's resources began flowing toward the newcomer.
Then came the accusations.
Stealing the sect's treasures.
Betraying his master and destroying his own sect.
Colluding with the demonic path.
One charge after another was piled onto his shoulders like mountains, crushing the breath from his lungs.
He defended himself.
No one listened.
He resisted.
No one believed him.
He refused to confess.
Someone confessed on his behalf.
His master looked at him coldly.
His junior sisters looked at him with disgust.
The junior brother stood behind the crowd with a smug smile on his face.
In the end, his master personally acted.
She dug out his supreme spiritual root and transplanted it into the junior brother.
Genichi was thrown out of the sect.
His cultivation was completely crippled.
His spiritual root was gone.
Like a stray dog that had been discarded once it was no longer useful, he eventually died alone in the wilderness.
After Genichi finished speaking, the living room remained silent for a good ten seconds.
Then Demeter spoke.
Her voice sounded somewhat dry.
"What are you planning to do?"
Genichi raised his head and stared at the ceiling.
The chandelier's light flickered in his eyes like countless restless fireflies.
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest in a steady rhythm.
"I'm going to head to that ancient female-oriented world first and refine a Myriad Souls Banner. Then I'll upgrade it into a Human Emperor Banner. After that, I'll take it back to the cultivation world."
His voice was quiet, but carried an unquestionable determination.
"When the time comes, every grievance will be repaid, and every debt of blood settled."
The Myriad Souls Banner.
Those three words landed like a bomb in the living room.
Demeter's pupils contracted sharply.
Astraea's hand shot up from her knee.
A cold light flashed through Artemis's emerald-green eyes.
Hephaestus's single eye widened in shock.
Hestia's mouth fell open, and she even forgot to breathe.
It wasn't as though they didn't know what a Myriad Souls Banner was.
It was one of the most evil, cruel, and terrifying artifacts found in cultivation worlds.
To refine one, thousands upon thousands of innocent people had to be slaughtered, their souls sealed within the banner and their resentment and suffering used to strengthen the artifact.
Those souls could not pass on.
They could not reincarnate.
They could not find peace.
They could only remain trapped inside the banner forever, enduring torment until their souls were finally destroyed.
Whenever a Myriad Souls Banner appeared, rivers of blood followed.
Corpses littered the ground.
Not even grass survived.
It represented neither justice nor revenge.
It represented nothing more than unchecked slaughter and annihilation.
Astraea shot to her feet.
Her usually composed face was filled with rare agitation and anger.
She stared fixedly at Genichi, the fire of justice blazing in her eyes as though it might burn everything away.
"No!"
Her sharp, resolute voice echoed through the silent living room.
"Absolutely not! I don't object to you taking revenge, but a Myriad Souls Banner is out of the question! I will never accept something that evil!"
She was the Goddess of Justice, Astraea.
She could accept Genichi killing people.
She could accept him taking revenge.
She could accept him using whatever means necessary against those who had harmed him or the people he protected.
But she could not accept a Myriad Souls Banner.
An artifact that imprisoned, tortured, and enslaved innocent souls.
That wasn't revenge.
It wasn't justice.
It wasn't punishment.
It was simply another, greater evil.
If Genichi truly refined a Myriad Souls Banner, how would he be any different from the people who had hurt him?
How would he be any different from the madmen in those female-oriented worlds?
Genichi looked at Astraea.
There wasn't the slightest ripple in his eyes.
"I understand how you feel, but this isn't up for discussion, Astraea. Don't try to stop me."
His voice was soft, but carried an unquestionable firmness.
"Don't worry. I won't slaughter innocent people."
His promise did nothing to reassure Astraea.
If anything, her frown deepened.
He wouldn't indiscriminately kill innocents?
Refining a Myriad Souls Banner didn't require random killing.
It required a massacre.
Thousands upon thousands of lives were needed to refine even the lowest-grade Myriad Souls Banner.
"Trust me."
Genichi's voice was quiet.
Astraea gave a bitter smile.
There was helplessness in it, resignation, and an indescribable trace of heartache.
Slowly, she sat back down on the sofa and closed her eyes.
"Fine. Go."
Her voice was quiet, as though she were speaking both to herself and to Genichi.
Hephaestus walked over from the wall and stood beside Astraea.
A complicated light flashed through her single eye.
She reached out and gently patted Astraea's shoulder.
The motion was soft and gentle, like she was comforting a wounded friend.
"Don't worry. Genichi won't disappoint us."
Her voice was calm, yet carried a reassuring strength.
She trusted Genichi.
Not because he had never made mistakes, but because everything he did had its own limits and boundaries.
He wouldn't slaughter innocents indiscriminately.
He wouldn't massacre countless lives for selfish desire.
He wouldn't allow the Myriad Souls Banner to become something beyond his control.
He would use it for revenge.
And afterward, perhaps...
Perhaps he would destroy it and allow those souls to finally rest.
Genichi stood up.
His movements were slow and quiet, as though afraid of disturbing something.
He turned around and looked at each goddess in the living room.
Demeter's gentleness.
Astraea's sense of justice.
Artemis's purity.
Hephaestus's steadiness.
Hestia's innocence.
His gaze lingered on each of them for a moment, as though committing their faces to memory.
Or perhaps saying goodbye.
"I'm heading out."
"Besides, you'll be able to watch everything I do from that mysterious space anyway."
(End of Chapter)
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