Chapter 50
Chapter 50
3. The Feeding God
"The Feeding God...?"
I repeated. The old man walked away as if saying it was pointless to talk.
A shadow fell from behind me, and when I turned, the man called "Sensei" was so close our noses nearly touched.
"It seems you came all the way from the city to see me."
The smell of rust hit my nose from the blood-filled washbasin, and I felt like choking.
"First-timers are often surprised. But everyone here can vouch for its effectiveness."
The villagers all nodded in unison.
I tried to step back, but Ryoko grabbed my arm and wouldn't let me. Her fingers dug in like a corpse's—cold and stiff.
Ryoko gave a faint smile, resembling the man's.
"Is that bloodletting, Sensei?"
Bloodletting?" I whispered, and Ryoko replied, "An old medical practice. Though they don't usually cut with a scalpel.
"It's a bit different. Not treatment, just assistance."
"Assistance with what?"
Ryoko didn't say 'with whom.' The man kept smiling.
"It's difficult to explain, but if you give me a moment, I'll tell you."
"...Seems my nephew isn't mentally prepared yet, so we'll just observe for today."
Finally, her cold fingers released my arm. Ryoko and the man kept smiling to the end. I felt like I was being cornered by two monsters.
We left the community center and walked down a path lined with mulberry trees. The shade made it cool, but I still had goosebumps and longed for the sun.
"Uyuu, did you see anything?"
Ryoko asked without turning. Her voice was as cold as her fingers.
"I saw something like a cocoon. And white threads. They seemed to be wrapped around the man called Sensei."
"So it was silkworms after all. But I still don't think this place's god and that New Religion are directly connected. Maybe they just happened to choose a village with similar beliefs..."
The mulberry-lined path ended, and warm sunlight poured in. Along the irrigation ditch, rows of stonework stretched on.
The terraced stones held dried grass and muddy water, with blue netting sunken beneath. It must have been rice paddies once.
At the edge of the paddies, the station attendant old man was sitting.
As I approached, the old man looked up at me with a cigarette between his yellowed teeth.
"You again?"
"You again?"
"Brat."
The old man exhaled smoke and sneered. His smile felt far more natural than the man's or Ryoko's.
"Hey, what's this 'Feeding God' thing you mentioned earlier?"
The old man fell silent. Only the smoke unraveled in place of words. After a while, he spoke.
"Outsiders wouldn't understand."
"That again?"
"It's true. As long as we understand, that's enough. Doesn't matter what others say."
The old man stood up with his cigarette still in his mouth. Ryoko watched his back and spoke.
"Did he say the Feeding God?"
"I don't get it either. Something about feeding something?"
"...So many unknowns. Then we'll just have to dive right in."
The setting sun reflected off Ryoko's glasses.
By the time the sun had set, Ryoko and I stood in front of the community center again.
"Can a public servant really trespass like this?"
"It's still illegal even if you're not a public servant."
Ryoko quickly went around to the back of the prefab hut. A rusty padlock hung on the door, but she fiddled with it using a removed hairpin and it opened easily.
"You're more used to crime than I am."
"I've got official approval. Let's go."
I gave up and followed Ryoko.
Even in the darkness, the cocoon on the roof glowed white, like the moon had fallen.
Ryoko took out a flashlight. The inside of the community center was bizarre.
The narrow wooden hallway was plastered with the oval motif we saw at the station. But that wasn't all.
The walls were tangled with red veins like blood vessels and white threads like silk, resembling the inside of some massive creature.
Even Ryoko looked pale—so she could see it too.
From deeper inside came a thump like a heartbeat. The red lines in the hallway pulsed in time with it.
Ryoko silently moved forward. With each step, a soft sensation spread through the soles of my feet, reminding me of the silkworm hallucination spilling from my shoes.
Just as Ryoko reached for the sliding door at the end, I heard a squelching sound near my ear. Countless white bugs crawled and the silk trailing across the hallway quivered.
Before I could stop her, Ryoko threw open the sliding door.
I covered my nose from the rush of stench and heat.
A giant with its skin peeled off. A Kannon statue made of flesh and blood.
That's the only way to describe it.
The humanoid figure, tall enough to touch the ceiling, was made of layered pink flesh. Exposed blood vessels twitched, and from torn areas, steam and rot stench burst out along with blood.
The lump of flesh sat enthroned, spreading spiderweb-like capillaries across the walls.
"What the hell is this...?"
"Good evening, Mihara-sensei."
A calm voice echoed, out of place for the scene.
The flashlight beam crawled up the wall and illuminated the sliding door.
The man who had been collecting blood from villagers earlier stood there.
He's here.
I tried to distance myself, but remembered the meat lump behind me and froze. Either way was a monster.
A moment later, I realized he had said Ryoko's last name.
"It's been a while. I wonder why he remembers."
Ryoko spoke in a voice as hard as struck steel. So they did know each other.
"Even after we applied human measures?"
The man narrowed his thin eyes. I repeated the unfamiliar phrase.
"Human measures...?"
"So he knows nothing. As always, so underhanded. He's not even real family, is he?"
I glanced at Ryoko. The flashlight's reflection lit her profile—colder and paler than the moon.
"Who is that guy? What is he talking about?"
"He was the successor of a shrine in a village that worshipped Territorial Divine Offenses. It was a dangerous god, so the countermeasure headquarters neutralized it."
"I think your organization is far more dangerous."
The man stepped into the sea of blood vessels.
"I thought Mihara-sensei would understand, so I broke the lock here."
"That oval motif and the bogus treatment resembled the god your village had. The one that created human-like copies of those who offered blood, turning them into its own followers—the Devouring God."
The lump of flesh behind us steamed, its foul heat brushing my neck.
I shook off the fear and spoke.
"But people said their illnesses were cured..."
"They weren't cured. He just offered their blood to the Devouring God and made copies of the villagers. Maybe he killed the originals?"
"The villagers didn't notice the switch. We could create a better community that peacefully worships a single god. What's so evil about that?"
I was speechless.
"So you came to this village to steal faith from the similarly named Feeding God and create the Devouring God?"
"Faith is created by gods. That's what Mihara-sensei said."
The veins on the wall began to writhe like snakes. The lump of flesh slowly rose.
Is it planning to do something to us?
The muscle and veins tore with a sickening sound, spraying rotten blood. The mouthless lump of flesh spewed steam in place of a scream.
It was unlike anything I had ever seen. I found myself whispering.
"There's no way something this eerie and hollow could be a god."
In that moment, the red veins of flesh were overwritten by white.
Silk threads swirled like an illusion of light, wrapping around the lump of flesh.
A thread slithered toward the man's feet. He muttered, "Ah..."
In an instant, the thread wrapped around the man and the lump of flesh, forming a cocoon that compressed tightly—and vanished.
The veins on the wall, the lump of flesh monster, and the man's figure were all gone.
All that remained was the old tatami and a pile of cushions in the community center hall. It felt like a dream.
"What about them...?"
The flashlight slipped from Ryoko's hand and lit up the floor. A few small, light Cocoon Balls rolled across the tatami.
As Ryoko and I stood there in a daze, a shadow passed by the window. Something smooth and cocoon-shaped was descending from the roof.
We rushed outside, but there was nothing there. Not even the cocoon on the roof remained.
"Was that the Feeding God...?"
"Yes."
A hoarse voice answered my murmur.
My heart nearly leapt out of my mouth. An old man in an indigo-dyed shirt was standing there.
"You followed us here?"
In response to Ryoko's question, the old man raised his chin.
"Not you two. I was following our god."
The old man stared off into the distance.
"Kuwasu means to dwell in mulberry. It's the god of silkworms. Since long ago, whenever things got out of hand in this village, it would descend, wrap everything in cocoons, and take them away."
"So that's why..."
The man and the lump of flesh monster disappeared.
"Where did the Feeding God go?"
"Who knows. Once it's done, it vanishes right away. Maybe it thinks it has no face to show."
"Why?"
"Because it can erase, but it can't heal. That's the kind of earnest god it is. Some people speak ill of it, but as long as we understand, that's enough."
That god asked for nothing in return and drove away the village's crisis before leaving. Or perhaps the old man's faith alone was enough. Like a silkworm that offers precious silk to its keeper in exchange for mulberry leaves and ends its life, it was humble.
In the deep navy darkness, only the white threads glimmered, reflecting the stars and moon.
I dragged my feet along the unlit path between fields. The eerie silence nearly drove me mad, and I let out a deep breath.
"So much happened, but it also feels like we didn't do anything at all..."
"We were just swept along this time."
"Can't be helped if our opponent was a god."
"Still, we gained something. The Feeding God is benevolent, asks little in return, and is powerful. If used well, it might help eliminate the evil gods."
Ryoko's voice was tired, but firm.
A heretical man, a grotesque monster, and the Feeding God. One wrong move and we might've been crushed in their clash, yet she could still say that.
"Maybe it's true what they say—don't touch the gods and you won't be cursed."
Ryoko softened her cheeks and chuckled.
"If only all gods did nothing unless touched. We'd better hurry back and report."
At least we agreed on wanting to get home quickly.
When we reached the station, we finally saw light. That ad on the bulletin board had been torn down. Probably the station old man's doing.
The station wasn't sealed off, and we entered without issue.
Maybe that was the old man's consideration. Whatever. I collapsed onto a bench at the station.
There was still time before the first train. I wanted to sleep, without thinking about the gruesome memories or the mountain of questions.
Ryoko sat beside me and let out a small breath.
The vivid morning sun gradually illuminated the village's sloped terrain.
The withered terraced fields glowed a brilliant orange, like countless mirrors—beautiful, yet useless and offering no salvation.