The Pureblood Society Is Wiped Out

Higashino Makoto stood atop an abandoned factory in the outskirts of Tokyo, his golden eyes looking down at the dense crowd below.

One hundred thousand people.

They were dressed in all sorts of clothes; some were in suits, some in work clothes, and some in worn-out trench coats. But their expressions were the same—

Fanaticism.

That kind of fervor, stirred up, suppressed for too long, and finally finding an outlet.

Gospel Zealot stood on a makeshift platform, their white missionary robes fluttering in the wind.

Its face was mostly covered by the hood, with only its mouth showing.

The mouth kept speaking, its voice not loud, but amplified by magic and technology, it reached the ears of everyone present clearly.

As a monster with professions such as "missionary" and "zealot," its voice possesses a special magic.

It can evoke the deepest emotions in people, making them unable to resist listening to its words and entering a state of frenzy.

In the game, this is just a regular enhancement buff, but this is reality.

Therefore, the anger and fanaticism in these people burst forth.

Do you hate it?

It asked.

"Hatred!"

One hundred thousand people answered at the same time.

Whom do you hate?

"Gastrea! Those man-eating monsters! Those beasts that destroyed our home!"

The Gospel Zealot's lips curled slightly upward, a compassionate and gentle smile carrying a resonance of "I understand your pain."

"Then why don't you go and kill them?"

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Then, a voice boomed from the crowd.

"Kill them? How can we kill them? We can't beat those monsters!"

"If you can't win, then you shouldn't fight?"

The voice of the Gospel Zealot still carries a hint of madness, but every word is like a knife.

"You have 100,000 men. 100,000 men, each with a bullet, how many Gastrea could you kill? Each with a knife, how many Gastrea could you cut down? It's not that you can't win. It's that you dare not."

The crowd fell silent again.

The Gospel Zealot gave them no time to think; they continued, their voices growing increasingly impassioned.

"Your parents were eaten by Gastrea. Your children were eaten by Gastrea. Your wives, your husbands, your friends, your neighbors were all eaten by Gastrea. You've hated for so many years, feared for so many years, and hidden for so many years. How much longer will you hide? Until the Gastrea topples the last Monolith, until they rush into the city and devour the rest of you? Will you still hide then?"

No one spoke.

But Higashino Makoto could see that those people's hands were trembling.

That was anger that had been suppressed for too long and was finally ignited.

The Gospel Zealot raised his hand and pointed to the distant black Monolith.

"Over there, outside the Monolith, Gastrea. They're still alive, and they can live a long time. They can wait, wait for you to grow old, wait for you to die, wait for your city to become their lair."

"Are you going? To kill those monsters that ate your family members?"

"Do you want to be cowards for life, or Hero for a fleeting moment?!"

"We are pure-blooded humans! We are the lambs approved by God! We need to show those damned monsters what human courage is! What a golden spirit is!"

Silence, a long silence.

Then, someone stepped forward.

The man was middle-aged, with some gray hair and a scar on his face that stretched from his forehead to his chin.

His hands were trembling, but his voice was firm.

"I'll go."

The second person stepped forward.

The third, the tenth, the hundredth, the thousandth.

The sounds rose and fell, like tides, like tsunamis, like floods that had finally breached their banks.

"Holy crap--!"

"I'm going too!"

"Kill them! Avenge my family!"

"Kill those beasts--!"

The Gospel Zealot laughed, as if with a sense of compassion that God was with them.

It stepped down from the platform, walked to the edge of the crowd, and opened the warehouse.

There were boxes of weapons piled up there.

Standard firearms, bibliized bullets, bibliized blades, bibliized spears.

A metal specifically designed to control Gastrea; humanity's last hope.

"Pick it up."

The Gospel Zealot's voice was soft, but everyone heard it.

"Take it and kill. Kill the monsters that devoured your families, kill the beasts that destroyed your homes, kill the nightmares that have kept you alive for so many years, yet you've never dared to face them."

The best way to overcome fear is to face it!

"Awesome!"

People rushed to the weapons crates.

Each person carried at least one gun and its special ammunition; some also carried knives, and others carried spears.

Their hands were still trembling, but their eyes were burning.

Higashino Makoto stood atop the factory, overlooking everything. His golden eyes held no emotion.

"Grown ups."

Shinano stood behind him, her purple eyes also looking down at the crowd receiving their weapons.

How many do you think will die?

"A lot of."

Higashino Makoto spoke calmly, as if he were about to face not humans, but a swarm of ants, and his fear was directed not at humans.

"Most, perhaps all."

"Then why did you let them go? Don't you like humans?"

"It's precisely because I like humans that I let them go."

Higashino Makoto's voice is calm and still, like a tranquil sea.

"Because they need to face it, they need to face the things they've hated and feared their whole lives. I help them confront their fear and overcome it; that is compassion."

He paused.

"But they will pay the price. Those children, whom they beat, verbally abused, and killed, will pay the price. This is the punishment I have imposed."

Shinano looked at him, her purple eyes flashing with a complex light.

One hundred thousand people were divided into eight teams.

Each group of about 10,000 people set off from eight directions, entering the Gastrea -controlled area through the gaps between the Monolith.

Higashino Makoto didn't give them maps, tactics, or any guidance.

He just needed them to face it, to kill, and then...

Go to hell.

The first team encountered Gastrea three hours after setting off.

It was a giant scorpion-like Gastrea, over ten meters long, with a purple stinger.

It also has bird wings and feline claws.

Several pieces of birch metal were embedded in its shell, scars left by humans in the past.

"Fire!"

The commander's voice trembled.

As time went by, the duration of the Frenzy buff ended.

Many people have already begun to regret their actions, but they have already lost the chance to escape.

They have no choice but to face it.

Gunfire erupted—a dense, chaotic, and unpredictable barrage of shots.

The bullet struck the carapace of the Gastrea, scattering sparks and leaving a shallow dent.

The scorpion did not fall.

It charged into the crowd, its tail spurs sweeping across, piercing through the bodies of more than a dozen people, blood gushing out.

"Scatter! Scatter!"

But the crowd was too dense to disperse.

Scorpions rampaged through the crowd, each sting taking several lives with every strike.

Some people started to run away, dropping their guns and turning to flee.

But many more were shooting, roaring, and crying.

They've hated and feared for so many years, and now they've finally faced it.

Then they discovered that facing it was much harder than hating it.

Ultimately, using specially made weapons, they killed the monster.

But more Gastrea kept arriving, and they had no follow-up support.

In the seventh hour, the first squad was completely wiped out.

There were no survivors.

More than 10,000 people died.

Their bodies were scattered across the wilderness, some intact, some mutilated, some mostly devoured by Gastrea, and some transformed into Gastrea.

The second team soon encountered Gastrea as well.

Numerous giant Gastrea, with eight legs, each as sharp as a spear.

It weaves through the crowd, each leg passing through the bodies of several people.

Occasionally, it would spit out a wisp of silk, entangle the person, and drag them into its mouth.

The third team also encountered Gastrea.

It is a giant beetle-like Gastrea with a carapace so thick that even a ball bullet cannot penetrate it.

The beetle rushed into the crowd, crushing their bodies as if they were ants.

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh, the eighth...

Every squad encountered Gastrea, every squad fought, and every squad died.

Some died in the first wave of attacks, some held out for hours, and some killed a lot of Gastrea...

Eight teams, 100,000 people.

No one came back alive...