I have an unlimited number of shikigami

Upon hearing this, Asuka Kasahara immediately sat down on the ground.

"Waaaaah~ Senpai, you're so cruel," she rubbed her eyes with both hands, crying in a coquettish voice, "Why won't you wear matching earrings with Asuka? Do you have someone else on your mind, that's why you hate Asuka? Waaah, you bad guy..."

All five or six thousand eyes turned to look at us at once.

On the wooden floor, her skirt spread out like a flower, and the little witch sat in the middle of the flowers, her voice pitiful and her posture incredibly cute.

I think so, Izaya Fujiwara.

Right now, it seems like... thousands of people are secretly cursing him as a scumbag.

"Alright, alright, get up now." Although Fujiwara Izaya had a headache, he could only stretch out his hand. "How about I go with you to get your ears pierced?"

"It's a couple's style."

"Good good..."

Kasahara Asuka lowered her hand and looked up at him.

Her eyes brightened slightly, a hint of shyness mixed with a touch of mischief. Then, she chuckled, her smile as radiant as a flower.

In the audience, Hoshimi Rinko gritted her little tiger teeth, her face turning green.

The people sitting next to her felt a chill run down their spines and quickly got up to keep their distance.

On the high platform.

Mrs. Kasahara whispered something in Mrs. Hoshimi's ear.

Then, Mrs. Hoshimi looked at her daughter.

The expression seemed to be blaming, and it also revealed a sense of disdain, as if to say, "You were the one who went first, how did things turn out like this?"

then.

Rinko Hoshimi's face turned even greener.

The second round of voting has been completed, and the final results have been tallied and presented to the abbot, Mr. Kasa, who is presiding over today's meeting.

The hall fell silent again, and all eyes were on the elegant and dignified woman, waiting for her to announce the result.

A gentle breeze wafted by, causing the candles in the lantern to vibrate slightly. Mrs. Kasahara raised her eyebrows slightly; her face was radiant, and though she had not yet aged, her eyes always shone with an enduring and captivating charm.

"1356 votes, against."

"302 votes, abstentions."

"186 votes, in favor—"

The final note faded away with a hint of coldness.

Mrs. Kasahara stood up with a serious expression, her gaze sweeping over the directors who had voted in favor, intentionally or unintentionally.

In an instant, the air inside the hall seemed to be squeezed out of the shop by frost, and everyone felt a chill. Everyone knew why the chairman was like this.

With all four chairpersons explicitly supporting Asakusa Shrine, the fact that some people still voted in favor was blatantly a sign that they had been bribed, or that they were deliberately opposing the four chairpersons. Even those who abstained felt a sense of unease, fearing they might be implicated and harmed.

A moment later, Mrs. Kasahara suddenly smiled.

Her smile made the whole world, which had just escaped death, smile too.

"The resolution to expel Asakusa Shrine has been rejected after a vote by all board members. Board members who have objections, please stand up and make your statements." After solemnly announcing this, Mrs. Kasahara smoothed her sleeves and gracefully returned to her seat, her dignified eyebrows slightly raised, revealing a hint of anger.

Those council members who had originally voted against the proposal and intended to voice dissent have now backed down.

We are all smart people.

At our age, living a few more years is more important than anything else.

A bunch of unreliable bastards... Fujishima Miyaji was trembling with anger. In the past, when those people used his own money to drink their own alcohol, they shouted louder than the Prime Minister. Now that he needed them to stand up, they all became ninjas, performing invisibility jutsu right here!

Bastard! Bastard!

After gritting his teeth and cursing a few times, Fujishima looked at Takagi across from him and saw that his old rival looked indifferent. He cursed a few more times before standing up from his seat with a gloomy face.

"Distinguished chairpersons, I have an objection!"

Mrs. Kasahara didn't even lift her eyelids: "Please speak."

"I don't think we should discuss the fate of Asakusa Shrine in the first round." Director Fujishima composed himself, looked at Fujiwara Izaya in the middle, and said coldly, "The issue we should be discussing is whether Fujiwara Izaya is a yokai and how to deal with him."

“Okay!” Kasahara nodded slightly, his gaze falling downwards. “Regarding the question of Fujiwara Izaya’s identity, is there any director who can provide an explanation or evidence?”

Many council members who had been silently observing the situation turned their heads left and right, looking at their colleagues and discussing it in hushed tones.

Amidst a buzzing noise, Fujishima Miyaji looked around, and his initial anger and slight panic gradually subsided.

Haha!

He couldn't help but laugh to himself.

Not a single board member spoke up for Asakusa Shrine, which shows that Asakusa Shrine is completely unpopular.

Even if they manage to stay this time, they will still face countless rumors and criticisms in the future. Asakusa Shrine's future will remain the same as it is now: an anomaly in Shintoism, regarded as an ominous existence!

Fujishima Miyaji had a very shrewd plan in mind.

As long as the infamy that Asakusa Shrine bears remains, it will never be able to regain its former glory. The position of chairman will naturally remain vacant; as long as no one takes it, he will have ample time to scheme.

Fujiwara Izaya was certainly aware of this as well.

But the prejudices in everyone's hearts had been there for a long time, and he couldn't change them overnight. Looking at the more than a thousand directors whispering among themselves, he didn't feel discouraged. Instead, he encouraged himself: even if the prejudices in people's hearts are a mountain, he will move it one day.

however.

Just when Fujishima Corporation was having high hopes...

"Gentlemen, this old monk has something to say."

In the council chamber, an old monk dressed in a pure white robe slowly stood up.

Fujiwara Izaya looked over with a mixture of surprise and expectation.

That old monk was the abbot of Shanguo Temple.

He is Ikeda Seiji's father.

Fujiwara Izaya felt a little warm.

That seemingly unshakeable mountain has begun to loosen.

Chapter 102. A Little Boy, Small Yet Great

It was a rainy morning at the end of May.

In the tense atmosphere, the head priest of Zenkokuji Temple stood up and slowly bowed towards the high platform. Then, he turned his gaze, his gentle eyes falling on Fujiwara Izaya, and also slowly bowed, offering a solemn gesture of thanks.

"The story begins a year ago."

Under everyone's questioning gaze, he began to recount the story between him and Fujiwara Izaya.

“One day last June, the old monk’s son, Qing Si, suddenly asked the old monk for a burial plot, saying that he wanted to bury the remains of a victim who was killed by a vengeful spirit and whose family had not claimed them.”

In the vast hall, only the abbot's kind and gentle voice echoed.

"At the time, this old monk thought that Qing Si's Buddhist cultivation had advanced and that he had had a new enlightenment, which was why he did such a thing. For this reason, this old monk was comforted for a while. But..."

At this point, a helpless smile flashed across the abbot's face.

"Last September, Qing Si approached the old monk again, asking for another burial plot. He still wanted to bury the remains of a victim killed by a vengeful spirit who had not been claimed by any family. The old monk felt something was amiss, but didn't ask too many questions and gave it to him. But in November, he came to the old monk asking for a third burial plot. The old monk's doubts grew stronger. After all, that was his son. Once in a while, he could be considered to have had an epiphany about Buddhism. But the second time was only three months later, and the third time was only two months later. Qing Si wasn't cut out for that; it was impossible for him to have three epiphanies in just five months."

Laughter erupted inside the hall.

It wasn't malicious laughter, but rather the kind of laughter that comes from deep empathy when someone is criticizing their son.

"Under the old monk's persistent questioning, Seiji told the truth: all three burial plots were requested by his classmate, and it was also his classmate's idea to bury the homeless remains." The head priest of Zenkokuji Temple looked at Fujiwara Izaya and said with a slightly helpless but gentle tone, "In May of this year, Master Fujiwara asked Seiji for a fourth burial plot."

Upon hearing this, Fujishima Kyoji's expression changed drastically.

Everyone's attention shifted from the host to Fujiwara Izaya.

"What makes the old monk happy is that the fourth burial plot was not taken for nothing by the monk Fujiwara, who gave Seiji 400 million yen."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

400 million yen.

Buying a cemetery plot in Zenkokuji, in the heart of Tokyo, is a fair price.

At this point, the abbot of Zenkoku-ji Temple said, "The payment for all four burial plots has been settled in one lump sum."

"Pfft~"

Someone couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The laughter spread like a virus, and soon more than half the people in the hall were laughing.

Even Fujiwara Izaya, who is usually very thick-skinned, couldn't help but scratch his cheek.

"I was there when the fourth victim was buried," the abbot of Zenkokuji Temple said, his voice still gentle and his gaze still tender as he looked at Fujiwara Izaya. "She was a woman whose remains were never found; all that was buried with her were her personal belongings. Seiji even offered a free Buddhist service for her. Kasahara Koboshi was also there; she can testify to what I have said."

"Uh-huh!"

Kasahara Asuka excitedly raised one of her small fists.

In May, the female victim's remains were never found... On the high platform, the old monk Hongwen seemed to remember something and asked, "Were those buried Miss Momose's belongings?"

"The name engraved on the tombstone is indeed Momose Hayashi," the head priest of Zenkokuji Temple confirmed.

The Venerable Master Hongwen wanted to say something, but the abbot of Shanguo Temple continued speaking.

“Buying burial plots for strangers, paying hefty management fees every year, gaining no fame, and not seeking recognition from others—Fujiwara no Shiro was simply doing this quietly by himself.” The abbot of Zenkoku-ji Temple stepped out from his seat, went straight to Fujiwara Izaya, and earnestly asked, “Fujiwara no Shiro, can you tell this old monk what you are after?”

Five or six thousand pairs of eyes followed his movement, all looking at Fujiwara Izaya.

Fujiwara Izaya's feelings were complicated at this moment.

The old monk's words were unexpected; he had never imagined that buying a burial plot could bring him a good reputation.

The reason I did that was because my father was an extremely gentle person.

Gentleness does not mean always giving in.

Instead, it means having goodwill and patience towards all things that exist reasonably in the world.

It was because of his gentleness that his father became a mountain god, receiving the affection and love of all living beings. And it was because of more than a decade of being influenced by his father that Fujiwara Izaya's thoughts and actions bore his father's shadow, enabling him to inherit the mountain god's legacy and become a deity representing the land and nature.