Chapter 315


The inherent malice of humans is such that it cannot tolerate seeing someone they deemed insignificant surpass them.

In the world, this is called jealousy, and it’s also referred to as envy.

And this principle applies not only to individuals but also to groups formed by people, extending to the nations that arise from those groups.

Japan’s reaction to this can be seen as following the natural order of the world.

Here, what Jinseong and Rise must do is to stoke this jealousy and envy.

They need to toss wind and firewood onto a smoldering ember, making it blaze fiercely, ensuring the fire spreads easily with all their effort.

However, as mentioned before, jealousy and envy are inherent to human nature and the natural order.

Thus, the help they provide should not be direct but indirect, a gentle nudge for those lacking courage is all that’s needed.

[As the Deity has stated, I made sure those under my care do not act rashly.]

Rise reported what she had done to Jinseong.

Her eyes sparkled as if seeking praise.

[Among the council members, many believe that if we use this situation well, we can boost support rates… But, since the Deity is planning to explain this on a set day, they accepted it.]

Having said this, Rise looked at Jinseong.

Her gaze held hope that Jinseong would visit the shrine.

Unfortunately, Jinseong had no intentions of going there.

No, he shouldn’t go there right now.

The situation with the government had changed, and now they were aware of his existence.

The government was showing deep interest in “Park Jinseong, the local Shaman,” and was frantic to employ him to resolve the situation and reassure the citizens.

But suddenly taking a plane abroad?

It was bound to attract attention.

In the worst-case scenario, he could fall into the sights of agents operating overseas, risking being witnessed in his illegal entry to Japan.

While using magic could allow him to hide his presence…

Unfortunately, in modern times, simply hiding would not resolve many issues.

Information itself needed to be concealed and manipulated.

‘There’s no need to go to such lengths.’

Jinseong was not pleased that he had to go through such efforts just to reach Japan.

If it were something he truly needed to act on directly, that would be worthwhile.

But this was not one of those times.

The Japanese government or any organizations had not commissioned ritual magic, nor was he invited to participate in the Great Ritual of Magic, nor would he have the opportunity to observe its process. There was no chance for a private meeting with bigwigs, nor could he gain direct access to the shamanic records and sacred objects held by Onmyoji.

There was simply no reason for him to go there directly.

“How many of those who expressed discontent belong to the clubs?”

[There were no members from the clubs.]

“Murata Ryuunosuke is indeed managing things well.”

Murata Ryuunosuke.

An old man consumed by desire for power, but his capabilities were undeniable.

It was no coincidence that he was referred to as an elder in Japanese political circles, adept at maneuvering people to do his bidding.

He provided ample sustenance to the people to prevent dissent and kept them engrossed in water spirits, leaving no room for wrongful thoughts.

Thanks to this, those harboring grievances emerged from places other than the clubs.

In their quest for pleasure, they were instead igniting hatred and acting in a way that wished for others to plummet into despair, just like Saigo Kenji.

Perhaps this is a natural occurrence.

Their desperation to drag others down to their own level.

Japan’s resentment towards Korea.

These two situations are likely not all that different.

“I may not visit directly, but through special magic, I shall indirectly send my spirit, so prepare for that.”

* * *

Once, there was a great warrior in ancient China.

He was the son of a nameless farmer living in the mountains, and from birth, his strength was extraordinary; despite never learning any specialized skills, he could effortlessly lift boulders as heavy as himself.

Hearing this story, a Taoist approached to assess the child’s physique, noting it bore an uncanny resemblance to that of an immortal.

“This child possesses the potential to transcend human form and become an immortal if he grasps the Dao. Please entrust him to me.”

Thus, the Taoist sought the farmer’s permission and took the boy as his disciple.

However, the child’s abilities were not particularly exceptional; he was far from comprehending the Dao, but he had sufficient talent to mimic the moves of a sword saint.

“What a pity. He merely imitates the pure Yang child through physical skill without understanding the five senses…”

Thus, the Taoist always lamented the slow progress of the child.

This lack of progress did not improve over time, and when the Taoist faced death without being able to guide the child on the path, he left only these words behind:

“You are dull; regardless of how much you meditate, you will not comprehend the Dao. Thus, wield your sword and keep swinging it until you touch the heavens.”

So, following the words of his respected master, the boy swung his sword continually, growing into a youth, then middle age, then into an old man. Rather than seeking the Dao, he pondered on the art of swordplay, desiring the sword to reach the heavens instead of longing for understanding.

As this became his everyday routine, one day he experienced an extraordinary occurrence.

As he swung his sword and paused for a moment, an unusual energy started to ooze from his body, coalescing into the shape of a sword. From that sword-shaped form, a hand emerged, then an arm, and soon it became a mirror image of himself.

The physical body was present yet also absent, resembling him, but formed solely from Qi.

Realizing he had created the sword that could touch the heavens, the boy named this apparition Yuan Ying Shen (元嬰神).

* * *

In Taoism, there exists the concept of the ‘Yang Spirit,’ a body outside one’s own.

The Yang Spirit signifies attaining immortality through enlightenment and training, transcending human form, and only it remains eternal amidst the passage of time.

‘What is the Yang Spirit?’

The Yang Spirit is the path towards becoming an immortal; it represents the immortal itself.

The Yang Spirit signifies immortality and the ultimate realm; those who achieve it are undying, and can fuse with formlessness to create a true body, becoming an immortal as long as the law exists, and can produce a body outside one’s own that exists without a physical form.

‘Forming a body that does not originally belong to the flesh, stitching together the essence inside it. The soul resides in every part from head to toe; thus, the soul also dwells in the imaginary body, which is an extension of the physical form. Therefore, how is this different from the Yang Spirit?’

Then, I ask:

By seamlessly stitching the Yang Spirit into one’s own form, assembling a solid and intense spirit, and causing the soul to mistake it for a part of the body,

Is this not similar to the Yang Spirit?

“Ahhh—”

In a dark room.

Jinseong sat cross-legged, his specially made incense filling the air with its scent in the dim room, making sounds with his mouth.

The tremors in his throat and palate produced sounds akin to strange echoes in a cave, and even reminiscent of the eerie sounds flowing from the gaping mouth of a monster.

He maintained his seated position, back straight, eyes shut, continuing to make those sounds.

Until all the air in his lungs escaped.

“Ahhh—”

The air was completely gone from his lungs.

Yet Jinseong did not stop making sounds.

He squeezed his lungs as if wringing out a wet cloth, expelling every last bit of air, and even when he could barely produce any sound, he kept exhaling and exhaling, refusing to give up the act.

When his head began to spin from the lack of air,

He finally took a deep breath, filling his lungs once more.

“Ah—”

Then, pressing down on his filled lungs, he released another sound.

Again, until all the air expelled from his lungs.

He repeated this process.

Until his head spun, his bodily sensations became ambiguous, and his consciousness grew dim.

A lack of air.

Specially made ingredients in the incense.

Vibrational sounds helping to delve into the depths of his mind.

The combination of those three ensured Jinseong’s spirit reached the profound depths of his mind, into the realm where the flame of Samadhi danced wispily.

Jinseong squeezed his essence into that flame.

And there, he began to carefully observe the countless lives stirring within and their connections to him.

And.

‘I found it.’

A very thin thread woven from minuscule life forms.

He discovered one string that clearly connected to him.

Without hesitation, he grasped that string with his hand.

And believed.

With an utterly natural faith.

With a heart filled solely with truth.

That this thread originated from him.

It was from his own body.

It connected to him.

It was part of his being.

Thus, he connected with the thread and was able to send his spirit and soul to what lay at its delicate tip.

Thud-thud.

Thud.

“Ah.”

He created a Yuan Ying Shen composed of insects.