Transformed into the leader of an esoteric sect in Japan

Kurosawa Shizuki hesitated, unsure how to respond to love. Was her sister truly so indispensable to her that she would go to such lengths just to prove she was still useful?

"Don't worry, Ai, I will live on. You don't need to tell me, I will definitely live on." Kurosawa Shizuki didn't want to die, no matter what, she didn't want to die, and Ai didn't need to tell her that.

"But, Ai, I have one more question, do you know, about our real names...?" Kurosawa Shizuki finally couldn't help but ask this question.

“Real name—” A look of fear appeared in Kurosawa Ai’s empty eyes. “I don’t remember, I can’t remember, it was stolen by Dad… Sister, that’s the name we’ll never forget, it’s best if we never remember it. If we remember it, we’ll never be who we are anymore.”

Our real names were stolen by our father? Names can be stolen? And their real names are quite dangerous? What will be awakened after their real names are revealed?

Kurosawa Shizuki felt increasingly confused, but since Kurosawa Ai had already said so, she couldn't press the matter further. "I understand, Ai. Goodnight, get some rest."

"Goodnight, sister." Kurosawa Ai's voice was very low, filled with an inescapable fear.

Kurosawa Ai fell asleep again, with lingering tears in the corners of her eyes, and glistening blood seeping into the teardrops.

Kurosawa Shizuki turned around, turned off the light, and left without looking back.

She also needed to find a quiet place to drift off to sleep; in her dream, there was still one place she wanted to visit.

P.S. Thank you everyone for reading this far. I'll try to release another update later.

Chapter 56, Section 56: Mu Zi's eyes were empty.

Following the basic principles of the art of the invisible, cut off a lock of hair, tuck it under your pillow, and then silently pray, your words being a hymn of praise to the gods.

The original owner once mentioned in her diary that during the second stage, she often entered dreams in this way under her father's guidance, communicating with the dark matter in her dreams.

The power of the dark matter is not stable; on the contrary, it is cruel, violent, and always thirsts for blood. If mortals want to tame the dark matter and prevent it from betraying and turning against its master, they must rely on dreams, constantly communicate with the dark matter, and undergo a long period of adjustment and familiarization.

Of course, for Kurosawa Shizuki, who possessed the fragments of the Black Sun Divine Stone, the black spirit was as obedient as a well-behaved puppy, and the only troublemaker in the black spirit was that shadow that seemed to be the original owner.

Now, Shizuki Kurosawa is about to enter a dream to visit another of her servants.

Kurosawa Shizuki lay on his own bed, covered with blankets, half-asleep, his long, narrow eyes narrowed like a cat's, and he exhaled a long breath.

As she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she couldn't see the strands of hair she had tucked under her pillow, which slithered out like snakes and crawled into her ear canal, making a hissing, trembling sound.

She heard whispers again, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and an unknown creature flapping its wings.

The sky overhead was a deep, blood-red darkness. A massive, suffocating planet obscured most of the sky. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be shaped like Earth, but the positions of the continents were subtly inconsistent.

Under the moonlight, the vast forest stretches out, with ancient trees reaching for the sky, extending to the very edge of the world. The land is sticky and filthy, and countless dead decay silently in the forest's stillness.

Kurosawa Shizuki's consciousness soared with the wind, weightless, flying and frolicking with the forest spirits under the crimson moonlight.

She saw the black ancient well spewing out jet-black mud, she saw the prayer wheels in the ancient temple spinning endlessly, and the long river illuminated by the moonlight flowing with a blood-like, thick color.

She saw a huge cocoon of flesh beating like a heart in the center of the dead ancient tree, its surface covered with obsidian-like shiny scales.

"What will be lost?" She heard a girl's clear and melodious voice singing from inside the cocoon, like a choir in a church singing hymns, full of joy, pleasure and excitement.

However, the writhing cocoon was not Kurosawa Shizuki's target. She dared not touch the divine egg that was about to hatch. She knew that when faced with the egg's frenzied power, she might not be able to maintain her composure and would be lost forever.

As Kurosawa Shizuki lay above the forest, she noticed that her right little finger was bound by a tuft of glossy black hair—the very hair she had cut before going to bed. Now, it was stretched taut by an invisible force, like Theseus in a labyrinth chasing a ball of thread. She too was chasing this incredibly long strand of hair, which shimmered with an eerie light in the dark forest sky—a guide from her dream.

They found themselves in the dream of the woodland, a dark and mysterious dream realm that symbolizes everyone's subconscious, and that each person has their own unique woodland.

All who dabble in the arts of the invisible can travel through their hair to this dreamlike forest, uncovering the primal power hidden deep within their bodies and souls. The Black Sun Cult will find the Dark Matter here, the Age of Gods will undergo transformation here, the Zero Cult will find silence here, and the Opening Gate will seek their scars here…

At the end of the hair, Kurosawa Shizuki found the body of a dead boy, his entire body entangled in hair and black mud. His left little finger was also wrapped in similar hair. Yamauchi Yuki, leaning against a withered tree, stiffly raised his head and gave Kurosawa Shizuki a dry smile, dust shaking off his body.

"Master, you heard my call? I am truly honored."

"What do you want, summoning me in the Woodland Dream?" The manipulated Shadow Servant no longer dreams, so he enters his master's dream while the master is sound asleep. There is a strong, invisible connection between the Shadow Servant and his master, and communicating with each other through the Woodland Dream is the most reliable and least noticeable way.

Theoretically speaking, the shadow that is suspected to be the original owner should also be in this dream of the woodland. However, Kurosawa Shizuki did not feel any connection between herself and the shadow. In such a vast woodland, it would be difficult to find a shadow that was deliberately avoiding her. Since the shadow was unwilling to show herself, Kurosawa Shizuki would not force her to look for her anymore. If the shadow felt that this state of mutual ignoring each other was good, then so be it.

“I infiltrated the underground base of the Shedding Clothes Club under the guise of participating in the Thunder Ritual. Master, would you like to use my eyes to see the headquarters of the Divine Generation Society?” Yamauchi Yuki said in his unchanging tone. “They are preparing for war. They are going to use the power of a cult to fight against the entire secret cult forces in Heijing. They have already been able to spread the red mist with the help of Mizukiko.”

"They also sacrificed time; they were not fighting alone, they had allies."

"The Shepherds and Apostles of the Divine Age are all here..."

"You'd better hurry, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold on much longer." There was an ominous air in Yamauchi Yuki's voice.

Kurosawa Shizuki's consciousness entered Yamanouchi's body.

She found herself in a damp, cold underground cave, filled with the strong smell of blood. Burning torches were stuck in the hollowed-out rock walls, illuminating countless ancient murals on the walls.

A thunderous roar shook the earth's heart; moths clung to withered trees, their wings folded; primordial worshippers, adorned with feathers of various colors, danced around the offerings; and some winged creature, its wingspan obscuring the sky, crawled out of the filth...

Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted by a grand and frenzied scene of a Tantric ritual.

The drummer, wearing a silver moth mask, played a large drum made of human skin, booming like the beat of a heart.

The handsome young man wore a flower crown, his face was painted with purple dye, and he was dressed in a long robe. He played a flute, producing a melodious yet unexpectedly mournful tune.

The esoteric practitioners chanted ancient, incomprehensible incantations in unison, their voices grand and mournful, many voices merging into one. The gods of the underworld were speaking through human mouths, and Kurosawa Shizuki was watching all of this with the eyes of the mountain dweller.

All members of the Divine Society wear peculiar masks. In ancient times, their predecessors were first-rate actors and dancers who would use dance as a ceremony during the full moon to offer their bodies to the gods. At the appropriate time, they would shed their outer skin in search of the possibility of ascending to a higher life form.

The masks come in all shapes and sizes, each expressing a different emotion: fiery red anger, silver-white calmness, pitch-black hatred, pink adoration, and bluish-purple sorrow...

Yamauchi, now also dressed in a black robe and wearing a sorrowful mask resembling that from an ancient Greek pantomime, sang hymns with many other believers.

Almost naked dancers moved to ancient rhythms. Dozens of dancers spun around the center of the altar like moths. They were all dressed in gold and jade, and the whites of their eyes were an eerie yellow. They looked up and spat out moths that fluttered and soared.

At the very center of the dance floor stood the chaotic and ferocious statue of Wuquanzi, its body entwined with vines, covered in swollen pustules, crawling with brownish-gray centipedes, with moth wings spread on its back, a beautiful girl's head, and the hooves of a mare on its lower body. Its left hand held a moon-white sacrificial knife, and its right hand carried a long, gleaming golden flute.

On the shoulder of the statue of Wuquanzi sat a thin, expressionless girl with long, black hair disheveled and interspersed with a few pale strands. Her eyes were empty and unfocused. Although she was looking down at the many believers from her high position, she seemed not to be looking at anything at all.

She wore a black velvet dress adorned with exquisite gold trim, her bare feet swinging naturally. There were black holy marks like teardrops at the corners of her eyes, and her slender nails were also a bottomless dark color. She just sat there, and an intensely suffocatingly icy aura spread out, and a layer of frost formed on the altar.

Unlike when Kurosawa Shizuki first met the girl in the park, she now seemed to have grown a few years older, appearing to be a twelve or thirteen-year-old girl.

The apostle Kirie, a girl known as Muko, calmly accepts the rituals performed by the followers of the Shindai-kai.

The offering is about to be presented; the transparent shadow inside the insect egg rejoices, primal instincts stirring...

P.S. Regarding Muko and the protagonist, while writing this, I was reminded of Belle and Eldridge from back in the day.

Chapter 57, Section 57: Sister, I will come to find you.

Amid the priests' drumbeats, flute music, and choral chanting, incense was lit, torches flickered, and people moved about.

A dozen or so wooden stakes were lifted up, each with a person bound to it by hemp rope. These people, mostly very young boys, were barely covered by tattered cloth. If Kurosawa Shizuki wasn't mistaken, several of them were actually Yamauchi Yuki's men from before. Seemingly to prevent them from breaking free, their hands and feet were nailed with rusty nails, and blood dripped continuously onto the cold stone surface.

All the people on the stakes were still alive, but most of them were pale with fear, or in despair, or in a daze, or mentally unstable.

"I'm calling the police! You bunch of lunatics!"

"He clearly said he would help us pay off our debts..."

"Boss Yamauchi, you lied to us, you monster!"

"Hehehe, the girls dance so beautifully, show more skin~"

At the forefront of the many believers stood a tall, slender woman with piercing eyes and sharp demeanor. Her hair was gray, but her face was wrinkle-free, making it impossible to guess her age. She wore gold rings on her ankles and earrings made of gold and topaz. As she took her first steps, the hearts of all the believers quickened in unison. Every move she made seemed to expound an invisible art. With a gentle clap of her hands, the altar fell into a silent stillness.

Behind the woman followed a middle-aged officer in a black military uniform, wearing a peculiar badge on his chest. The badge featured a dodo bird, and the officer had a striking, thin scar over his iron-gray left eye. His left hand, gloved in deerskin, rested on the hilt of a sword at his waist, which appeared to be a Turkish scimitar.

"Let the apostles grant us transformation," the woman smiled serenely.

"Transformation, transformation, transformation!" the believers shouted excitedly in unison.

Then the believers brought out silver platters, on which purple worms were wriggling. The worms' bodies were translucent, giving the impression of being both crystals and living creatures. Each one was a pure and clear purple, not frightening, but rather exuding a mysterious elegance.

Amidst the desperate and frenzied screams of the sacrifices, the cultists ascended the platform and poured plates of worms over them:

"Ugh... What the hell is all this stuff?!"

"It's in! It's in! Drill, drill, drill!!! I've been opened up!"

"Come and devour me, change me, it's all meaningless now..."

"Huh? Is this a special gift for today's performance? So exciting~"

Insects deftly pierced the skin and crawled beneath it, while the sacrifices watched helplessly as the creatures protruding beneath their skin drew ever closer to their heads.

Some insects simply plunged headfirst into the human's pupils, and after a few breaths, the person fell silent amidst their desperate screams.

Some insects travel along the blood vessels and eventually enter a person's heart, taking over the heartbeat...

The tall, thin woman took out a strange, dark gold bell, a mysterious smile on her face: "My dear children, dance, stir, revel! The era of blood mist is coming, we will all be transformed, we will all be sublimated."

With a crisp ringing sound, all the offerings parasitized by the amethyst worms let out screams of unbearable pain.

Mu Zi's small face, which had remained completely expressionless, furrowed slightly; she seemed to feel a little uncomfortable.

As for the officer, he remained expressionless and unmoved, observing coldly with a gaze as sharp as a knife.

Then their bodies grew bigger and bigger like inflating balloons, until finally, they all exploded with a series of bangs!

The putrid mist of blood instantly filled the entire cave, plunging everything into a suffocating crimson hue.

The mountain dweller, possessed by Kurosawa Shizuki, also couldn't help but inhale the foul red mist—it was an overly soft and warm smell, the kind of scent that a living being would inevitably emit when leaving its body, hot blood, elastic and juicy muscles, thin and fragile skin, or tough bones.

The offerings were decomposed, evaporated, and sublimated into blood mist as they were devoured by countless amethyst worms. The blood mist nourished everyone, allowing them to undergo a transformation.

Mu Zi raised her head, her small mouth wide open. Through the blood mist, she sang a bizarre and eerie song, each monotonous syllable carrying an ancient desolation. Despite its clear, melodious girlish voice, it gave off an incredibly evil and frenzied feeling.

“Metamorfos, Metamorfos, Metamorfos…” She sang in a language no one had ever heard before, but once the syllables entered the ears, almost everyone could immediately understand their meaning; the meaning of the words was “metamorphosis.”

The slender little girl spread her arms wide, swaying them like a moth fluttering in a flame. You could see the rice-grain-sized scales on her skin shimmering with fluorescence, and the small facets at the corners of her eyes sparkled like coal crystals.

The beautiful purple insect has now grown wings to the sound of song, dancing gracefully in the blood mist, each flap of its wings shaking off shimmering silver powder.

The cultists danced and sang in the blood mist like madmen, frantically sucking in the blood mist, and then, in Kurosawa Shizuki's eyes, they began to undergo bizarre transformations at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Their bodies grew taller, their skin peeled away, revealing a dark blue membrane beneath, with clearly visible veins beneath the skin. Their eyes shone in the darkness, and their claws were deep, dark, and strong.

At the highest point, beneath the statue of the Fog Spring God, a smiling woman, though surrounded by blood mist, tilted her head back, casually picked up a purple crystal worm, and tossed it into her mouth to chew. She didn't blink; the worm crawled across her eyeballs, yet she remained completely unaware.

"Mom, is this alright?" Mu Zi stood quietly beside the woman and said softly.

"That's right, Muko, that's enough. We will win. Your sacrifice will bring a new era. We will eventually reunite in the blood mist, and then we will have eternal happiness." The smiling woman hugged Muko and rubbed Muko's head.

"Praise be to the great transformation, from the depths of the leaves to the bones!" The believers who had undergone the transformation fervently sang praises.

"Mom, there's one more thing that can't be changed; he's already been controlled by other forces." Muko's little finger pointed to Kurosawa Shizuki, who was manipulating the body inside the mountain and stealthily retreating into the darkness among the crowd.