In Tokyo, the dungeon master

While those nearby were filled with fear and curiosity, they failed to notice that in the shadows of distant buildings, several pairs of emotionless eyes were coldly observing the scene.

These temporary derivatives are mostly random combinations of elements from ghost stories, and their appearances are even more bizarre than the monsters that Gu Meng summons. Each summoning is subtly different.

It's not the kind of bizarre creature that gives birth to aliens, but rather it has a Frankenstein's monster feel to it.

The ghosts in the hospital area are the strongest on average, all of them are at the cadre level, and the demonic energy here has not completely dissipated.

The first one was hunched over like a dead tree, covered in glossy black hair, each hair standing on end like steel needles, and its eyes were two dancing balls of scarlet ghost fire. Wherever its saliva dripped, black bubbles would instantly appear on the ground.

This one is more suitable for scaring people; he's like a low-ranking official among this round of ghosts, a top-notch worker.

Then another noblewoman ghost appeared, dressed in a dignified twelve-layered kimono. Her clothes were already stained with black and red stains, and the air rippled with distortion wherever she passed. This was one of the stronger ghosts generated this time, and it also contained some fantasies about beautiful ghosts.

Her posture was also quite elegant and glamorous; she was clearly an upper-class lady.

Gu Meng quite likes these kimono-clad female ghosts, and they even give out perks. However, he doesn't allow them to expose their bodies to others when they're out in public. Anyway, Gu Meng's main purpose this time is to collect terrifying fantasies to pave the way for the evil god dungeon, and he doesn't need any erotic fantasies.

Finally, there was a demon wielding a rusty, broken katana. It was a headless demon samurai, with blackened scabs of blood clots on the blade and rotten strips of cloth wrapped around the hilt. It exuded a nauseating, bloody stench, and its shadow stretched long and ghostly behind it.

He is quite strong in combat; he might be able to fight a trainee magical girl one-on-one, and he could easily take down ordinary police officers or self-defense forces with a single blow.

Of course, there are also classic modern ghost stories that continue to appear in other places, such as the fusion of the eight-foot woman and the slit-mouthed woman, and the fusion of Sadako and Hanako.

They come in all shapes and sizes, silently lurking in the shadows of the city, like hunters waiting for their prey, watching everything that happens not far away, as if they want to spy on humanity from the darkness forever.

This scene is not an isolated case, but is happening in every corner of Tokyo.

Although the magic was centered on Gu Meng's casting point, the actual activation spread outwards from every corner of the city where resentment was strong. Locations with supernatural legends, such as the abandoned school that Gu Meng had simulated, were more likely to be selected.

The ghost of the abandoned school is the ghost of the girl who jumped off the building in the legend; it's just based on everyone's imagination.

Even if there really are some mysterious scholars from the end times, like the Tokyo Magical version of Wang Yuyan, there's no need to worry about Gu Meng being found out, because the Hundred Ghost Banner has already been moved to the hands of the Guiyi Sect's divine messenger avatar. Even if someone can calculate these nodes and deduce the magic center through ancient mysticism, they can only find the Guiyi Sect.

It was all Shinichi Utsunomiya's fault, and had nothing to do with Gu Meng of the Shirakawa family.

And so, ghosts and monsters began to slowly emerge from the shadows.

They move swiftly, their figures flashing by in the interplay of light and shadow.

Although the number is not particularly large, not tens of thousands or even hundreds of millions, placing a few at each paranormal location, just to let these ghosts lurk in special areas of the city, spread fear, and arouse people's unease and panic, should be enough.

Gu Meng thought this way: he didn't have the energy to pay attention to so many places at the same time, let alone control them one by one.

Let these monsters hunt themselves.

Anyway, ordinary people will be resurrected, and if the pain is too great, they will forget their memories of the time before they died. If they can forget a fraction of it, it's practically the same as not feeling any pain at all.

Ugh, this is so troublesome, and I even feel a little ashamed and guilty.

Damn it, I wish I weren't human!

Those ghosts that quickly disperse into the shadows and infiltrate the city are not random attacks; they come prepared and may even imitate horror movies to deliberately frighten people.

It possesses basic intelligence and, as Gu Meng wished, will prioritize killing the more wicked, though it cannot completely avoid harming passersby.

If Gu Meng wanted to focus his attacks on a specific area, the intensity would naturally increase. For a secret technique whose core is spreading fear, it's not bad. If they had this banner, even those useless members of the Guiyi Cult who are worse than Valon might be able to complete the mission.

Gu Meng didn't have too many requirements. After all, magic power was limited, and Gu Meng wouldn't make these monsters too strong. The stronger the monster, the more magic power it would consume. Gu Meng could only produce this much magic power each day. He had already gone too far by squeezing Wan Hua and the others. Fortunately, the number wasn't too large. Otherwise, in order to reduce energy consumption, Gu Meng would have to actively suppress the average strength of these monsters.

Currently, Gu Meng will prioritize converting ghosts with higher immortality and greater difficulty in killing, or those that can regenerate quickly even if killed. Other abilities can be prioritized later.

The most terrifying ghost stories are the unsolvable immortal ghost stories. The police's small pistols can only do so much, and they certainly can't stop anything at first. Even if the ghost stories are physical and relatively weak, such as the Slit-Mouthed Woman, they are not afraid of these police officers.

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Tokyo mornings always carry a lingering damp chill. The morning mist, like unwrapped cotton, wraps around the lingering smells of alcohol and the sour stench of garbage from the streets and alleys, temporarily concealing the filth hidden in the city's folds in the dim light and shadow.

The narrow alleys of Okubo are crisscrossed like a forgotten labyrinth, far from the hustle and bustle of Ginza and the morning light of the Sumida River. Only a few lanterns of izakayas are still hanging down, and the wine stains on the lantern cloths gleam dimly in the mist, as if the revelry of last night has not completely subsided.

Okubo is considered a rather peculiar place in Tokyo. After all, it is a capitalist country, and big cities always have a lot of shady places. Homeless people also exist, and there are even more street prostitutes and gray-area industries in Tokyo.

In the most extreme case, it would become like a twin-city Zaun, with a giant metropolis next to a giant slum.

Tokyo is already quite good, compared to American cities.

But even foreigners who come to Shanghai can find some dirty and messy places by searching everywhere. Naturally, a huge city like Tokyo will also have some messy corners. Capitalism really can be a monster.

Sato staggered along the stone path, a heavy smell of alcohol emanating from his pores.

The hangover headache felt like countless tiny needles pricking me; everything in front of me was swaying; my steps felt unsteady, as if I were walking on cotton; I had to hold onto the wall for every step.

He drank himself into oblivion at an izakaya last night, squandered all the cash in his wallet, and forgot a lot of things. Today, being the weekend and not having to work overtime, he was planning to relax at a hostess club… Damn hostesses, he accidentally spent too much, and he's still not out! He might as well just go to a bubble bath hostess club…

In his dazed state, another thought popped into his head: the urban legend that many people talk about—picking up corpses… There's a secret: he himself had actually done it.

After picking it up, just find a suitable place to throw it away, and generally nothing will happen.

Women who get drunk and pass out near izakayas are often the targets of men like him.

Not only does it cost no money, but it also gives you a thrill of theft or candied fruit.

The thrill of doing bad things is worse than that of a concubine. Of course, he knew he had indeed broken the law and would feel ashamed if he were discovered.

But the key issue is that for many Japanese people, the culture of shame is mainly about feeling ashamed of being caught committing a crime, rather than the crime itself being something to be ashamed of. This is very important.

Even now, there are still many situations where people won't feel ashamed even if they are discovered, because everyone knows what kind of people each other are, and all they have to do is act ashamed and bow.

Red bean paste, a private Marseille!

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