Deep in the mountains of the Land of Rivers, hidden beneath an uninhabited wilderness, stood a vast underground hall. At its center loomed a massive statue.
Every detail of its body was meticulously crafted—its eight arms lifelike—yet its face was completely blank, a faceless idol. This stark contrast exuded an inexplicable aura of eerie malevolence.
But what chilled the hearts of ordinary people even more was the enormous blood pool beneath the statue, nearly ten meters long. Filled to the brim with crimson liquid, it reeked of a nauseating, metallic stench.
A middle-aged man in his forties or fifties stood before the pool, inhaling deeply, his face twisting with perverse delight.
Clutching a necklace with an outer circle and inner triangle, his weathered face contorted into madness as he rasped, "The auspicious hour has arrived! Bring forth the sacrifices!"
"Yes!"
At the High Priest's command, dozens of cultists, their expressions equally frenzied, began dumping corpses into the blood pool.
Not just corpses—venomous creatures too. Centipedes, spiders, snakes…
For this annual Jashin Festival, they had prepared for days. And now, the moment had finally come.
The High Priest raised his arms, the thick, cloying stench of blood enveloping him as his eyes glowed with a crimson hue.
"Great, almighty, eternal Evil God!"
"We offer you praise, tribute, and sacrifice!"
"Cast your gaze upon us from the distant unknown, and bestow your blessings!"
As he finished, all the cultists knelt, slamming their foreheads against the ground and chanting in unison:
"Great! Almighty! Eternal Evil God!"
"We offer you praise, tribute, and sacrifice!"
"Cast your gaze upon us from the distant unknown, and bestow your blessings!"
Suddenly, an eerie presence descended upon the hall—as if something, somewhere, had turned its attention toward them.
A crushing pressure weighed on every heart, filling them with terror—and ecstasy. The High Priest's breathing grew ragged, his shock morphing into elation, then exhilaration, then outright madness.
The Evil God had finally looked their way!
If anyone in the Jashin cult could truly receive the Evil God's blessing, it could only be him!
Then, the blood pool began to boil.
A figure slowly rose from its depths.
"It worked! I fucking did it!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Mad laughter echoed through the hall.
The High Priest's frenzy froze.
He was certain they had only thrown corpses into the pool. So why—?
A boy who looked no older than eleven or twelve staggered out of the blood, swaying unsteadily, making bizarre gestures as he muttered to himself:
"I did it! I finally fucking did it!"
"You…"
The High Priest's eyes narrowed—then widened in recognition.
"Wait—you're Hidan! When the hell did you jump into the blood pool?!"
"Huh? Hidan?" The other cultists were equally stunned.
Drenched in blood, Hidan slicked back his hair with a bloodied hand, flashing a grin.
"High Priest, I'm not just some Jashin cult trainee anymore."
"I'm the Evil God's chosen vessel now!"
He spread his arms, laughing wildly.
The High Priest blinked, then gasped. "You mean… you've received the Evil God's blessing?"
"Damn right!"
Hidan licked the blood from his fingers, sneering. "I'm the Evil God's favorite now!"
The High Priest's mind blanked.
Why?
Evil God…
I was here first!
Before he could speak, the blood pool bubbled again.
"Huh?"
Hidan scowled, annoyed at the interruption during his grand moment.
Another figure emerged.
Pale as paper, bare-chested, with black hair clinging to his skin—and wearing a pair of black-framed glasses.
"Pleasure to meet you all. My name is Shimotsuki Simu. Just call me Simu."
Where the hell did this guy come from?
The High Priest and the cultists exchanged bewildered looks.
Hidan had been raised by the cult since childhood. But this guy?
Handsome as hell—probably useless in a fight.
Before anyone could react, Hidan glared at Simu.
"The fuck are you?"
Simu, still dripping with blood, smiled faintly.
"I'm the Evil God's chief vessel."
Predictably, Hidan lost it.
He'd just declared himself the chosen one, and now this guy waltzed in claiming to be the main vessel?
This was a direct challenge.
No way Hidan would tolerate that.
He yanked out a black spear and charged.
"The Evil God only favors me! Die, you fake!"
Hidan lunged with terrifying speed.
Simu merely adjusted his glasses.
Then—
A colossal purple centipede burst from Simu's waist!
The monstrous appendage expanded violently, its shadow swallowing the dim light. Hidan had nowhere to dodge—not that he tried.
With a vicious whoosh, the centipede's tail impaled Hidan's chest!
Blood sprayed as the creature writhed in delight.
Everyone stared in shock.
Damn. The newly anointed "chosen one" got one-shotted?
But the High Priest remained calm. If Hidan was truly blessed by the Evil God, then—
Sure enough, Hidan didn't scream in pain. Instead, he grinned.
"HAHAHAHA! Feels good!"
Locking eyes with Simu, his lips curled into a manic smile.
"As the Evil God's true vessel, I'm immortal!"
He bragged as he twisted the spear still lodged in the centipede, drawing out thick purple blood.
Simu frowned, flicking his tail and sending Hidan crashing into the ground. But the damage only excited Hidan further.
He raised his spear, licking the blood off the blade like fine wine. His chest wound gushed, but he didn't care.
Instead, he dipped his foot in blood and drew a circle with an inner triangle—the Jashin cult's symbol.
The High Priest's pupils shrank.
Between the symbol and Hidan's lack of reaction to being impaled, it was clear—this guy had received the Evil God's blessing.
As Hidan completed the ritual, his body transformed.
His skin turned pitch-black, streaked with white patterns, making him look like a living nightmare.
(Fitting for the Evil God's aesthetic, Simu mused silently.)
Hidan locked onto Simu, his voice a deranged whisper.
"Kid… ready to meet the Evil God?"
"Curse Technique: Dead Controlling Possession Blood!"
Then, grinning madly:
"How do you wanna die?"
"Stabbed in the gut first?"
Without hesitation, he plunged the spear into his own abdomen.
Hidan moaned in pleasure—while Simu's centipede tail split open at the same spot, purple blood oozing out.
(So that's how it works. Damage reflection.)
Simu analyzed instantly.
(A powerful ability… but useless against me.)
Hidan watched eagerly as the "pretty boy" finally clutched his stomach in pain.
(Took longer than expected, but the Evil God didn't lie!)
Of course, with Simu drenched in blood, no one could tell if he was actually bleeding.
Emboldened, Hidan licked his lips.
"After the gut—next is the heart!"
He pressed the spear tip to his chest, eyes bulging with excitement.
"Ready?"
THUNK.
The cultists gasped as the spear pierced Hidan's heart.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Even as blood poured from his body, Hidan raised his arms in triumph.
"Evil God! This is my first offering to you!"
Then—
"If the Evil God knew his 'chosen one' was just a circus act, he'd be disappointed."
Hidan's laughter died.
Simu stood unfazed, casually ripping off the now-lifeless centipede tail and tossing it into the blood pool.
"If you think your pathetic, zero-risk self-harm routine can kill me, you'd better crawl back into the womb and apologize to the Evil God."
Hidan's face twisted.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY—?!"
He lunged—
A crimson blur sliced through the air.
Hidan's head toppled from his shoulders.
A foot stomped down, crushing his skull against the floor.
Simu smirked.
"You dare call yourself the Evil God's lackey?"