Chapter 176 (Patreon)

Content Note: This chapter is a work of supernatural fiction. It condemns hatred and does not endorse any real-world government, armed organization, or violence against civilians. All supernatural entities and events depicted below are fictional.

Dubai—the glittering metropolis of excess, a jewel of opulence displayed before the entire world.

A paradise for the wealthy.

A purgatory for the poor.

At its heart stood the Burj Khalifa, a monument to human ambition that pierced the clouds.

Yet beneath the brilliance of that city, boundless darkness and corruption festered unseen.

High above the tallest man-made structure in the world, a golden fissure split open across the sky. It resembled a celestial gate, spilling dazzling radiance over the city below.

From within the void descended the Crown of Greed.

With its arrival, insatiable avarice spread throughout the region.

A torrent of golden cursed energy poured from the heavens and fused with the Burj Khalifa. Even the waters of the Persian Gulf were stained by its influence, shimmering like liquid gold beneath the sun.

That beguiling radiance drew countless people toward it, each dreaming of laying claim to limitless wealth.

Meanwhile, the interior of the Burj Khalifa had been transformed by a unique barrier.

It was a labyrinth that devoured human lives.

Like a ravenous beast opening its jaws, the tower patiently awaited those willing to walk inside of their own accord.

Anyone could enter the Burj Khalifa’s Labyrinth of Greed.

The barrier promised enough wealth to change a person’s life forever. Merely participating entitled one to an enormous reward.

There was, however, an entrance fee.

The participants had to wager their own organs.

What could possibly be fairer than that?

Those who had once occupied the summit of Dubai’s wealth and influence—magnates, financiers, and powerful officials—had all been reduced to puppets of the tower.

Their souls were imprisoned within its walls, forever denied escape.

At the summit of the Burj Khalifa floated the Crown of the Scales, formed from the crystallized greed extracted from the tower’s former masters.

It hung above the city like a golden sun, radiating an authority suffocating enough to bring anyone to their knees.

The Crown could measure the purity of every person’s greed.

It was judgment itself, passed upon the darkest depths of human nature.

[Dubai of Greed]

——————

London.

The ancient and enigmatic city had vanished beneath a shroud of envy.

A distant resonance rolled across the sky as the Crown of Envy descended, its call resembling the mournful horn of a demon.

DONG—!

The Elizabeth Tower, home to the great bell known as Big Ben, had become the vessel for an accursed ritual.

Its monumental frame now bore the terrifying cursed energy of the Crown of Envy.

Countless grieving eyes had been carved across the clock face—eyes belonging to those who had suffered beneath the British Empire’s colonial rule.

They stared out over London in silent accusation.

The clock hands had been forged from jewels plundered across the former empire, each stone stained by the resentment of those from whom it had been taken.

They shimmered with an unnatural light, resembling the fangs of some enormous demon.

Shrill cries echoed beneath the clock tower.

The screams carried the metallic presence of blood, stirring nausea in anyone unfortunate enough to hear them.

Another heavy toll reverberated through the city like the roar of a ravenous beast.

London’s dense fog writhed as though it had been given life, transforming into a vast mirror formed from cursed energy.

That merciless mirror reflected the lives of everyone caught within it.

Whenever the bell rang, anyone standing within a hundred meters of another person could have their souls forcibly exchanged under the Crown’s influence.

But the exchange was not random.

The victims would always trade places with someone who had come from circumstances resembling their own—the very person whose life had become the object of their envy.

The phenomenon was only temporary.

Every thirty minutes, Big Ben tolled again, forcibly returning the displaced souls to their original bodies—and to the lives they had once despised.

An overwhelming tide of envy consumed London.

Yet the ringing of Big Ben had awakened something far more sinister.

The Curse of the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets.

The treasures displayed throughout the British Museum began to tremble.

Under the influence of the Crown of Envy, the resentment accumulated within those stolen relics over centuries took physical form, transforming them into grotesque cursed spirits.

The chain reaction caused by the Never-Setting Sun Curse weakened the space throughout London’s streets. Cracks appeared in the air itself, as though the city might shatter at the slightest disturbance.

The Crown’s descent also awakened countless cursed spirits that had long remained dormant.

They surged from the Abyss of Resentment like a rising tide, driven by the compulsion to devour every living being happier than themselves.

[London of Envy]

——————

Gaza.

The Crown of Wrath descended over the war-torn land.

Its baleful radiance illuminated the divided territory, feeding upon every grievance, every loss, and every desire for revenge that had accumulated across generations.

Hatred surged like a raging sea.

The Crown cared nothing for history, justice, or truth. It stripped every tragedy of its meaning and transformed human suffering into cursed energy.

Wrath spread like a dense storm cloud, blanketing the entire region.

Soldiers and civilians alike felt the flames of hatred clawing at their minds, urging them to abandon reason and surrender to violence.

War was no longer merely imminent.

It had already begun within their hearts.

Sensing the volcanic fury rising from the land, the Crown of Wrath reshaped the barriers dividing it into the Corridor of Eternal War.

Smoke poured from the ground.

Within it appeared countless faceless cursed spirits, shaped from the memories of combatants who had perished throughout generations of conflict.

They bore no flags or insignia.

The Crown had erased every identity and allegiance, leaving behind nothing but hatred.

The cursed spirits threw themselves at one another like starving demons. Even death had failed to silence the rage imposed upon them.

Across the sky appeared fractured visions of ruined streets, abandoned homes, and lives consumed by war.

The spectral images repeated without end, clawing at humanity’s darkest instincts and tempting the living to continue the cycle.

RUMBLE—!

The earth split apart as black cursed energy erupted from beneath the ground.

Its suffocating presence spread throughout the region, carrying generations of grief, terror, and resentment.

Shattered weapons, collapsed stone, and rusted lengths of barbed wire rose into the air.

They twisted together under the Crown’s influence, forming the Throne of Hatred.

Beneath the throne flowed a molten current of cursed energy resembling oil mixed with tears.

It churned like the lava of hell, saturated with bottomless resentment.

[Gaza of Wrath]

——————

Thus, the Crowns of the Seven Deadly Sins descended upon seven locations across the world.

“So this is the evil humanity has nurtured...”

Sukuna stood beneath the darkened sky, feeling immeasurable cursed energy pour from all seven locations.

The vast currents converged upon him, continuously filling his body.

Then a streak of silver tore across the heavens.

Like a falling star, it struck Sukuna head-on.

BOOM—!

The impact hurled him through the air.

“Cough...”

Sukuna looked down at the bowl-sized cavity punched through his chest. Not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound’s smooth edges.

A grin slowly spread across his face.

“Heh... What a troublesome weapon. There’s no defending against it, is there?”

His four eyes lifted toward the figure in the distance.

“Ragnar Kagenou!”

The hole in Sukuna’s chest regenerated in an instant.

Without hesitation, he swept one arm through the air and released a pitch-black slash imbued with the concept of erasure.

As the slash closed in, Ragnar quietly opened his mouth.

“Return—Gungnir.”

The silver Divine Spear embedded in the ground dissolved into a stream of light and returned to Ragnar’s hand.

He swung it once.

CRACK—!

The black slash shattered on contact, fragments of cursed energy scattering through the air before fading into nothingness.

Sukuna’s smile disappeared.

‘He destroyed a conceptual slash that easily...’

The last trace of complacency vanished from his expression.

Ragnar raised Gungnir and leveled its silver tip at Sukuna.

“Sukuna, I know exactly what you intend to do.”

Conceptual slashes, barriers, even the foundations of magecraft and jujutsu—none of them held any meaning before the Divine Spear in his hand.

“Do you?”

Sukuna’s grin returned, colder than before.

“Knowing won’t help you stop me.”

An immeasurable torrent of cursed energy flowed into Sukuna from the Crowns of the Seven Deadly Sins.

That power was the purest crystallization of humanity’s negative emotions. With such an inexhaustible source sustaining him, Sukuna could continue fighting for a thousand years without exhausting his reserves.

Silver light gathered at Gungnir’s tip.

The surrounding space groaned beneath the weight of its Divine Authority as Ragnar declared the outcome that was about to be imposed upon the world.

“I hereby declare—the curse before me shall be pierced.”

The silver radiance erupted, transforming into a pillar that tore across heaven and earth.

“Gungnir—Declaration of the Great God!”