Chapter 316: Could It Be a Smida Bloodline?

Kaneda Hideki was one of the moles planted by the Countermeasures Department within the Truth Cult, specifically dispatched to Kamimura Town to meet them.

The moment Kanzaki Rin stopped speaking, Fang Cheng summoned over a dozen Blood Eagles that swooped down from the sky.

These rooster-sized crows, called Corrupted Crows, usually gathered in swarms around mass graves or battlefields but were seldom seen in wilderness areas.

Their presence here hinted at numerous corpses or graves nearby.

Fang Cheng avoided explosives to prevent drawing attention, relying solely on the Flying Rain Needles to eliminate the flock.

Steel needles rained from the Blood Eagles like a storm, wiping out the Corrupted Crows within seconds. Their corpses plummeted to the ground in a cacophony of thuds.

The pursued vehicle pulled over, its middle-aged driver wheezing in the driver’s seat, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Soon after, Fang Cheng and Kanzaki Rin descended, retracting the Blood Eagles before approaching the car with their luggage.

Kaneda Hideki squatted by the roadside, smoking. His plain appearance matched his unassuming Truth Cult Ritual Robes.

He offered a strained smile to the pair. “Sorry for the trouble. Years undercover without combat left my skills rusty—couldn’t even handle minor monsters.”

Fang Cheng stayed silent, letting Kanzaki Rin handle the conversation.

She spoke softly, “We’re the ones imposing, Kaneda-senpai. I’m Hasegawa Asuka, and this is Higashinozawa. We appreciate your assistance.”

Both used false names to hide their identities, knowing clashes with the Truth Cult were inevitable. Revealing their genuine identities to terrorism-prone cultists would be reckless.

Kaneda Hideki, long detached from the Countermeasures Department, didn’t recognize Kanzaki Rin—the department’s rising star—or Fang Cheng. He assumed they’d been sent as agents, privately questioning why youths were assigned such a dangerous mission.

Unaware of their objective, he’d only been ordered to cooperate.

After brief exchanges, they boarded Kaneda’s car and departed Kamimura Town for Nampoku Village.

En route, Kaneda inquired about the Countermeasures Department. Kanzaki Rin shared only superficial updates.

“How are the other moles faring?” she asked.

Kaneda’s smile turned bitter. “What’s there to say? This cult’s no place to survive. Some moles cracked under torture—suicide, escape. I’m barely holding on.”

His tone hinted at a desire to end his undercover duty, but Kanzaki Rin offered no promises. Her role didn’t involve cult operations, and she lacked authority to intervene.

Kaneda’s disappointment went unspoken as they entered Nampoku Village. He briefed them on the Truth Cult’s structure.

After the village’s abandonment, a gang took over until the Truth Cult absorbed them, establishing it as their headquarters due to its strategic location.

Decades of growth transformed Nampoku into a self-contained enclave of tens of thousands—every resident a devout follower. Governments of Gunma and Nagano Prefectures turned a blind eye, demanding only that the cult avoid disturbances.

The reclusive leader remained hidden, delegating daily affairs to the Grand High Priest. He only emerged to meet wish-granting outsiders.

“How do we infiltrate?” Kanzaki Rin asked.

“Pose as wish-makers,” Kaneda replied. “You’ll meet the leader swiftly.”

Rumors claimed the leader could fulfill desires. Though Area 11 dismissed this as fraud, officials and elites secretly visited, enabling the cult’s unchecked expansion.

Fang Cheng interjected, “Many come to wish?”

“Countless,” Kaneda said. “It’s the cult’s primary income now.”

“And these people risk the journey?” Fang Cheng frowned. Monsters infested the routes, endangering even guarded convoys.

Kaneda chuckled. “They arrive by private jet. There’s an airport nearby.”

Fang Cheng: …

Poverty had indeed constrained his imagination.

At Nampoku’s entrance, armed personnel with semi-automatic rifles halted them. Kaneda flashed his Priest-status ID, earned through years undercover. Higher ranks like High Priest or Grand High Priest required the leader’s trust.

The guards waved them through without inspecting his “guests.” Security seemed lax, but Kaneda clarified: “Outer areas are loose; the core’s tightly controlled. Strangers face constant surveillance. Outsiders can’t wander freely.”

Renovated religious buildings dotted the village—churches, temples, even a Taoist shrine. Fang Cheng scoffed at the derivative hodgepodge.

Did Asahara Nikkou have Smida ancestry?

White-robed believers shuffled past, faces vacant. Notably, no elders were in sight.

“Where are the elderly?” Kanzaki Rin asked.

Kaneda answered flatly, “Discarded at sixty. The cult claims they’re impious, but really, they’re deemed useless. Factories here produce goods using scavenged equipment and smuggled materials. All believers work.”

Fang Cheng grimaced. A cult masquerading as a sweatshop.

As they drove deeper, structures grew grander. The believers here seemed livelier, almost zealously vibrant.