Tokyo Exorcism Diary

The razor-sharp blade tore through the air, whistling as it slashed straight at the vengeful spirit’s forehead.

With a piercing shriek, the ghost dissolved into a cloud of black mist, scattering into the air. Hoshino Gen’s strike landed on nothing but empty space. Without pause, he flicked his wrist, pulling out two talismans and tossing them forward. A raging gust erupted, flames bursting to life in an instant. A fiery tornado materialized in the middle of the classroom, swallowing both the black mist and the surrounding desks and chairs.

In mere moments, the once orderly—albeit dusty—classroom descended into chaos.

The sharp clatter of furniture, the wailing of the vengeful spirit, the violent roar of the thunderstorm outside—all blended into a cacophony of noise.

Then, suddenly, a wave of icy cold surged from within the blazing tornado, snuffing out both the wind and the fire. The black mist coalesced once more, reforming into the vengeful spirit at the center of the classroom. Her school uniform was now scorched and tattered, and her bluish-gray skin bore fresh burn marks.

Yet, in contrast, the resentment and hatred on her face had only deepened. The air around them thickened, the oppressive yin energy almost tangible to the naked eye.

Hoshino Gen wasted no words. His figure blurred, vanishing into a streak of motion as his blade arced toward the ghost. But at that very instant, thick ropes shot out from all directions, weaving into a massive net along his path.

His cursed blade struck the net, but instead of severing it, the strands flexed and swayed backward, perfectly absorbing the force behind his attack.

The relentless assault was broken. Hoshino Gen shifted his stance, retreating a step as he flung another set of talismans toward the rope net. Flames flared, engulfing the entire web in an instant. In the blink of an eye, it was reduced to a pile of charred ash.

As he came to a halt, another presence emerged beside the vengeful spirit—this time, a corpse dangled from the ceiling, its face obscured by the noose cutting into its neck.

“Is it just the two of you? If you have any other companions, you’d better call them out quickly.” Hoshino Gen tilted his head, gripping his blade with a lazy smile. His tone was almost casual, as if he weren’t addressing two terrifying ghosts but a pair of lowly street thugs.

Perhaps it was his attitude that infuriated them, or perhaps they were simply inclined to follow orders. Either way, the moment his words fell, a gust of cold wind howled through the classroom—

More ropes slithered down from the ceiling, and with them came more hanged corpses, their tongues grotesquely stretched out. Black mist surged, and pale-faced students materialized, their dead, hollow eyes fixed on Hoshino Gen.

In an instant, the once-empty classroom became suffocatingly crowded.

Outside the window, Shimizu Yuu’s gaze remained locked onto Hoshino Gen, her breath hitching seeing the classroom filled with vengeful spirits.

Even Hoshino Gen couldn’t help but frown slightly. Not because of the extra ghosts—they were just remnants, no real threat to him. No, what unsettled him was the sudden, gnawing sense of unease creeping into his mind.

And in the very next moment, that premonition proved correct.

The vengeful spirit’s mouth stretched wide open, her lips a sickly blue-black. Beyond them lay something so vile, so indescribably foul, that words failed to capture its grotesqueness.

At the same time, the newly-formed student ghosts abruptly turned into streaks of darkness, surging toward her gaping maw.

Hoshino Gen’s eyes sharpened. The instant the change occurred, he sprang into action—talismans shot forward, transforming into fireballs, crackling bolts of lightning, blinding bursts of golden light, and radiant silver glows.

Flame Sealing Talisman, Five Thunder Talisman, Soul Suppression Talisman, Evil-Breaking Talisman—all four were unleashed at once.

But before they could strike their target, the hanged ghosts above swung their withered arms, lashing out with their frayed ropes like whips, intercepting the talismans before they could reach the vengeful spirit.

Hoshino Gen stepped forward—only for the hanged ghosts to shift in tandem, forming a wall of bodies to shield the vengeful spirit.

Somewhere amidst the chaos, he heard a faint sound—an eerie, almost imperceptible wailing. A baby’s cry.

His left eye burned, its crimson hue spreading uncontrollably.

Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

He knew exactly what the ghost was doing.

Pain flared through his left eye, searing through his nerves and spreading across his entire body. His expression darkened for the first time.

That cry—was it awakening something inside his left eye?

There was no more time to hesitate. Ten seconds. If he couldn’t end this within ten seconds, he had to retreat immediately. If that thing in his eye woke up, they were all doomed.

His left hand ran along the blade’s inky black surface, slicing open his palm. The cursed blade drank deeply, greedily absorbing the fresh blood, as if a famished wanderer had stumbled upon an oasis after a long, endless journey through the desert.

He could feel the blade’s excitement. Its thirst.

A faint crimson glow pulsed along its edge. A thick, viscous darkness coiled around his left hand.

No time to purify the curse with a Cleansing Talisman. A bright yellow talisman slapped onto his leg.

The next second—he vanished.

The world seemed to stutter, a frame skipped. In one moment, Hoshino Gen stood still; in the next, he appeared right before a hanged ghost. A gale whipped past as his blood-stained blade traced a scarlet arc through the air.

The ghost split in two, its remnants fading into dust before it could even wail.

The remaining three lunged at him, as if to trap him.

But that was exactly what Hoshino Gen wanted.

As the three ghosts closed in, he clenched a fistful of talismans, his right hand slick with blood and shrouded in dark energy.

The talismans soaked in his blood. Crimson flames erupted.

The hanged ghosts were swallowed whole by the terrifying inferno, vanishing without a single scream.

Three seconds.

All four ghosts, erased.

A small, unremarkable bronze cup clattered to the floor, but Hoshino Gen didn’t spare it a glance.

Instead, he charged straight toward the vengeful spirit, who was now harboring something truly unspeakable inside her.

His blade came down in a single, decisive strike—

It cut through her as easily as a hot knife through butter.

The vengeful spirit split apart, yet the ominous gloom only thickened. A frigid wave of cold air surged from within her torso.

A baby’s wail rang through the air.

Not the cry of a newborn greeting life—

But the harbinger of a nightmare.

A violent gale erupted, nearly knocking Hoshino Gen back as his left eye seared with unbearable heat, as if it were about to burn through his skull.

No more time. He had to leave.

The cursed blade shattered into streaks of light as he spun around, swiftly hoisting the dazed Shimizu Yuu onto his back. Two talismans slapped onto his legs.

With a powerful leap, Hoshino Gen shot past the corridor railing—

And disappeared into the storm.