Tokyo Gods Only Want Beautiful Priestesses

Jingu, who was watching the show from the sidelines, couldn't help but click his tongue twice.

This plot is so familiar; isn't this the classic cosplay storyline? The aggrieved boyfriend and the promiscuous cosplayer girlfriend—this kind of NTR story can basically be labeled as a real-life adaptation.

Unable to defend herself, the woman simply changed the subject.

"Chun Jun, where did you get this gun? Put it down! Murder is a serious crime. Are you going to kill me too?"

Continuing to delve into why you went to the comic convention with this man will only further provoke your boyfriend.

"Chunjun, put down your gun and let me go with you to turn yourself in. I will accompany you to atone for your sins."

The woman calmed the man down, trying to persuade him to put down the weapon in his hand, and showed a sincere and gentle expression.

But that was no use in the face of a madman.

"Xiao Hui... do you know? I found forty-six pieces of evidence that you cheated on me, but I still don't want to believe it."

The man's hand trembled as he pointed the gun directly at the woman.

"As long as there is one piece of evidence, as long as there is one piece of evidence that you still love me, I can take that evidence as the only truth and not doubt it."

"Chun-jun, what are you saying? Of course I love you."

The woman forced a smile, trying her best to project a tender expression.

"Hehehehe..."

The man chuckled maniacally, his hands trembling even more.

"No! You're not! You're not my lover! You're my demon! You're my torment! I want..."

"boom!"

"boom!"

"boom!"

Three shots pierced the woman's slender body and delicate arms, and finally, completely destroyed her once pretty face.

The man and woman lay in pools of blood, and the murderer was completely insane in both speech and behavior. Only then did the security personnel arrive, belatedly.

Equipped only with ordinary safety shields and batons, they only dared to approach slowly.

"Those rioters over there, please lay down your weapons and surrender as soon as possible to receive lenient treatment!"

He was surrounded by security personnel, bystanders watching from afar, and two corpses lying in a pool of blood in front of him.

why?

The man was somewhat puzzled.

Even though the root of his troubles had been eliminated, he felt no joy or relief at the moment of severing those troubles.

Problem

Where is it? Is it because the root of the trouble hasn't been completely eliminated? Or is there some problem that you haven't noticed?

His gaze swept across the crowd, ignoring the security guards who surrounded him, and met the eyes of a figure not far away.

With a mocking, ruthless, and indifferent gaze, the boy looked at him as if he were swallowing his behavior as amusing sustenance, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I see," the man suddenly realized.

The root of troubles has not been eradicated. As long as one can still think and is still born into this endless, turbid world of endless suffering, one will not truly sever the afflictions.

The man pointed the gun at himself and laughed miserably, bitterly, and incomprehensibly.

"boom!"

The farce ended with the prisoner's suicide, and the shrine lost all interest in continuing to explore.

"Let's go."

The atmosphere was ruined by such a bloody drama, so the shrine naturally didn't plan to continue exploring and left with Kuga Hikaru.

"Obsessions, so troublesome..."

Sitting in the car, Jingu casually mentioned the man's last two frantic sentences.

Jiuwo kept his mouth tightly shut, not daring to speak.

She was slapped hard in the face. Yesterday she was assuring the shrine that the gun-worshipping cult had been wiped out, and today she encountered a shooting incident.

It's probably just a coincidence.

"They must be remnants of the Gun Worship Cult. I'll have them conduct a thorough investigation when I get back!"

Whether they are remnants or not, I cannot let myself be humiliated for nothing; I must deal with them cleanly.

"Really? This sect has already influenced so many people?"

It's quite a coincidence to encounter something like this at a comic convention, although it's a very interesting scene.

"Ah...it seems the impact is quite significant."

Kuga Hikaru, who hadn't even read the report, felt a little guilty at that moment.

Ultimately, she had no idea what the Gun Worship Cult was.

She is still a minor. Will these things have an immeasurable impact on her physical and mental health?

"Does it look like that?"

Jingu looked at her with a half-smile, and Kuga Hikaru felt even more guilty.

"Well, you don't need to worry about this. Anyway, you don't seem very reliable to ask me to do anything."

There was no excessive criticism of Kuga Hikari, since she hadn't originally planned to be assigned to handle this matter.

Kuga Hikaru breathed a sigh of relief, but then immediately realized that he had been completely seen through by Jingu.

"Hey hey, I knew you were the best, Jingu. I'm still a child, and I can't let minors work."

Faced with Kuga Mitsu's fawning behavior, Jingu simply enjoyed it without a care in the world, while also giving it a moment's thought.

Who should we ask to handle this gun worship cult matter? Who else is reliable and suitable to handle such a small matter?

Regardless of the circumstances, it's unpleasant to allow others to tamper with and smear one's own scriptures, but the shrine wouldn't do it itself.

Just as the shrine was pondering this question, they arrived at the shrine's entrance.

After getting off the bus with the shrine, the shrine staff entered and encountered an unexpected uninvited guest.

Ogasawara Yoriko stood in the courtyard of the shrine, reserved and respectful, and only turned around when she heard footsteps behind her.

"What a surprise, Lai Zi. Did you finally figure out what you wanted to do before coming to me?"

Jingu sat down on a stone bench in the courtyard, watching Ogasawara Yoriko with great interest, anticipating how she would answer him.

"Yes, Lord Jingu, I understand what I want to do now."

Ogasawara Yoriko stood before the stone table, her attitude toward the shrine more respectful than ever before, and her entire demeanor was quite different.

"Really? Then tell me, you must want my help with something to come to me, right?"

Chapter 273 All Can Be Killed

The black armored truck drove out of Tokyo and headed out of the city.

The people in the car were key members of the Gun Worship Cult, who had been identified after interrogation. They were to be secretly sent to a prison outside Tokyo without trial.

This prison was built on the coast and was directly managed by the military.

Unlike many prisons with excellent facilities and good treatment, it's impossible to get a birthday cake here.

Human rights are not something that can be discussed everywhere.

Behind the car, a blindfolded bald man was still whistling happily.

The officers in the front row couldn't help but chuckle to themselves.

This guy probably thought he'd be sent to trial, then used money to pave the way, manipulated the legal process, and finally left in style.

The vehicle quickly reached the outskirts of the area where the troops were stationed and was stopped at the gate.

After a brief exchange of documents and orders, the prisoner in the vehicle was handed over to the other party.

The bald man's blindfold was removed immediately after the escort vehicle left.

"Colonel, you're so slow. I thought I was going to be killed by those bureaucrats from the Metropolitan Police Department."

The bald man grinned at the person in front of him, revealing several gleaming gold teeth.

The soldiers behind him had already unlocked his handcuffs, and he easily regained his freedom.

"how is the situation?"

Ignoring the man's witty remarks, she simply asked him indifferently about the specific results.

"It's too slow. A mere few hundred pistols are simply not enough to satisfy our people. The progress is too slow."

He took a cigarette from the other person's shirt pocket, then realized that all his belongings had been confiscated by the police, so he could only ask the other person for a lighter.

"Colonel, how about something more powerful? Didn't they phase out the next batch of Type 89 rifles a few years ago? How about giving them to me?"

The man took out a lighter, tossed it to the bald man, and sneered.

"Then they discovered that the weapons all came from the Self-Defense Forces, and then they came after us, and in the end, we were all treated as political prisoners and sent to a military court?"

Handguns are widely circulated worldwide, and their origin cannot be traced in a short period of time.

But if we just take the army's old equipment, wouldn't that be telling them that there's an internal problem?

"Sigh, where's the Prime Minister? Isn't he from a common background? Has he tried to win him over?"

Squatting beside the sentry post, the bald man took a deep drag on his cigarette, while the colonel, who was his accomplice, also squatted down and lit a cigarette for himself.

"I tried a little bit, but it didn't work. Even a commoner politician is still a politician, just like those nobles."

The man's voice made no attempt to conceal his contempt and hostility toward these politicians.

"But this won't do. The progress is too slow. Even if they manage to get me out of trouble every time, they'll eventually find out what's going on, right?"

After taking a couple of puffs of their cigarettes, the two squatted down and whispered something they couldn't let anyone else know.

After all, those who stand at the top of power are all genuine monsters.