Little girl!
Finally showing your fox tail, huh.
Trying to take a shot at me?
Looking for shit!
Damian turned around; seeing Pansy sprawled on her back with her eyes rolled up, a wicked smile curled at his lips.
There had just been a faint, odd ripple on Pansy—she must have been about to use some kind of divine art.
If he hadn't reacted fast—circulating qi to his dantian, wriggling his large intestine, turning into a "spray warrior"—he'd probably have been hit.
For Hades, Pandora carries special significance, so it's no surprise she's been endowed with some divine power.
Presumably that unknown divine art is Pandora's trump card.
Too bad. Before you cast a divine art, there's a faint Cosmo fluctuation.
"Pandora, you worked so hard to get to the Sanctuary and infiltrate the graveyard—are you looking for the casket that seals the twin gods of Death and Sleep?"
Damian asked her, half to himself.
Just now he had coaxed a secret from Aphrodite: the holy casket sealing the twin gods of Death and Sleep is still kept in the Sanctuary, guarded personally by the Pope.
That doesn't match the original plot. By rights, thanks to Hades's meddling, the casket should have drifted to Pandora's home in Heinstein, Germany, and more than a decade ago Pandora should already have opened it, releasing the twin gods, with Hades's soul also descended.
Yet the casket sealing the twin gods was still in the Sanctuary.
And Pandora had disguised herself as Pansy to enter the Sanctuary graveyard.
This plot was crooked enough to be unexpected.
It can be inferred that Pandora's infiltration was most likely to open the casket and release the twin gods.
Truly a box-opening ace.
Traveling all that way just to hand over your head so big brother Damian can use you as a ball to kick?
"I'll leave you be for now. Let's see what tricks you've stirred up in the graveyard."
With that, Damian flashed back into the graveyard.
In the blink of an eye, he reached the spot where Pansy had traversed to the Underworld earlier.
This whole graveyard lay shrouded in his Cosmo. Anyone using Cosmo or pulling little stunts couldn't escape his surveillance.
Naturally, Pansy's little stunt couldn't escape his eyes.
"Underworld aura—with a strange spatial ripple."
"Did Pansy just open a passage to the Underworld?"
Damian narrowed his eyes.
"Sekishiki Meikaiha!"
Without another word, Damian used Sekishiki on himself.
Sekishiki can grant the user the ability to traverse the Underworld.
Today, he was going to take a day trip to the Underworld and see what tricks the box-opening ace was up to.
Underworld, Yomotsu Hirasaka.
The sky was gray, the earth was gray—everything around was gray.
Pale souls, one after another, expressionless, marched with stiff, mechanical steps toward the depths of Yomotsu Hirasaka.
In an endless line stretching beyond sight, they dropped mindlessly into the deep pit of Yomotsu Hirasaka, one after another, never stopping.
The pit leading to the Underworld was like a monster's giant maw, radiating powerful gravity, devouring all souls.
"This is really our lucky day—Lord Pandora actually summoned us."
"Killing a man? That's a cinch."
"To kill a gravekeeper from the Sanctuary—do we even need all four of us?"
Four Specters sat on a hill at Yomotsu Hirasaka, awaiting Pandora's command, ready to strike and complete their mission at any time.
Though they weren't wearing Surplices, they were true Specters, because each had grasped the Cosmo.
They counted as candidates for the 108 Demon Stars.
Being summoned by the legendary Lord Pandora made the four feel thrice blessed, thrilled beyond words.
The mission was very simple.
Go kill a Sanctuary gravekeeper. After the kill, return to the Underworld. An easy credit to earn.
Perhaps once it was done, Lord Pandora would reward them with Surplices, maybe even grant them Demon Star status.
All they needed was Lord Pandora's order, and they would strike straight into the human world through this fissure and kill the target.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?"
A gentle voice sounded by their ears.
"Waiting for Lord Pandora's call, of course. As soon as she gives the word, we'll kill that gravekeeper… what was his name again?"
"Who cares what he's called—he'll be a dead man in a moment."
"A mere gravekeeper of the Sanctuary—just a few moves and he won't even have a grave to be buried in."
They were raring to go.
The voice spoke again: "I'll tell you. That gravekeeper's name is Damian!"
"Damian?"
"Who!"
The Specters snapped to and looked toward the boulder behind them.
A young man in a black cloak stood atop the boulder.
He was strikingly handsome, draped in a black robe; his bearing was upright and confident.
"A living aura?"
"Who are you? Why are you in the Underworld?"
The leading Specter reacted fast, killing intent surging.
His triangular eyes brimmed with viciousness and bloodshot veins. He tore his clothes off in one motion, baring his muscles.
The others, realizing the newcomer was alive, also tensed up.
This was the Underworld's entrance—no living person could enter.
If someone could show up in the Underworld, he was no soft touch.
"That body… ugly as sin. You call that muscle?"
A twitch tugged at the corner of Damian's eye.
The man's cords of muscle were knotted, but oddly proportioned—deformed and asymmetrical.
It also meant his hide was tough and he had plenty of strength.
His raised head and faintly contemptuous gaze screamed of a dog looking down on people.
"Boss, this kid's got a fine figure—skinny and tender. Even as a man, he's better than a lot of women… look at his chest, heh heh."
One gaunt candidate stared at Damian, eyes shining, clearly into men.
"Hey, he is decent. Third, go take care of this kid. Then give him a good time. I want to hear him scream!"
The burly leader's eyes lit up at Damian.
"Got it!"
Cackling, the gaunt man clenched his fists and shuffled forward.
"I may be elegant as jade and handsome as can be—loved by all and a blossom wherever I go—but I've got zero interest in men."
Seeing him, Damian's scalp prickled, and he glanced down at his own pecs.
He'd ground so many basic attributes that his strength was high—and so were his pecs, overly inflated.
He now felt keenly that big pecs were, in fact, a sin.
A bunch of macho dudes, and they liked pecs.
No wonder the big dogs at the gym always attracted the same sex.
Faced with the threat, Damian smiled slightly, then lunged forward and threw a classic straight. Clean and neat.
He didn't use any Cosmo—just a fist that whispered as it cut the air.
The tall, skinny Specter hadn't expected the other to strike first, much less so fast. Before he could react, his chest took a punch.
"Ow!"
The powerful force hit him square on and sent him flying.
Pfft!
He slammed into a boulder several yards away. Blood fountained from his mouth; the rock behind him dented in.
The other three, who'd been watching, were stunned. They'd never imagined anyone so ferocious—the punch was too fast to see.
So strong!
This guy's a real hard case!!!
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