Daily Disposable Persona - CH 107

The light gradually darkened, changing from warm, red tones to a dancing, unsettling deep green, like ghostly will-o’-the-wisps flickering in the air.

A variegated dark green mist formed upon the altar, and the closer anyone approached, the stronger they sensed the arrival of an awe-inspiring quantity of water elemental energy.

The sudden appearance of such a unique phenomenon was, beyond doubt, evidence of a successful summoning.

The cultists fell still one after another. Chanting the name of the great Cthulhu, they worshipped the altar in reverence.

They knelt on the ground and kissed the blood-stained soil. Their eyes burned with religious fervor.

“We hail your arrival! Lord Cthulhu! Praise be to your coming, Cthulhu, Lord of R’lyeh!”

Humans cannot look at evil gods directly. Even Paracelsus lowered his noble head and lowered himself to the ground on one knee.

No one dared to gaze directly at the unspeakable horror that had appeared in the green fog.

So at first no one really noticed anything was wrong.

But inside that green fog, the indescribably horrific tentacles and ghastly shadows imagined by the faithful weren’t actually there.

—Instead, there was just a black-haired young man who’d somehow been transported to the altar.

Zong Yan maintained a defensive stance. Extremely vigilant, in one hand he held the card of the Night Watchman.

The green light that suddenly appeared for no reason at his feet had given him an odd feeling of familiarity. It reminded him a lot of something from his prehistoric trek through R’lyeh. He was so surprised that he didn’t pay attention and was immediately dragged through the circle of runes.

Then his surroundings changed from a cemetery full of tombstones to an endless tropical rainforest. In the distance, he could see the sparkling ocean. He was standing on an altar with a circle of people kneeling at his feet???

Blinking in surprise, he didn’t react for a while. “Uh, what are you doing… exactly?”

“My lord Cthulhu!”

The cultists continued to chant, but as they gradually realized something wasn’t right, they looked up, trembling with fear.

Huh? Did something go wrong?

At first glance, they didn’t see an unspeakable horror that could cause incurable mental contamination with a single look. Actually, within that green mist they could vaguely glimpse a human figure.

A human?

When an evil god descended upon the Earth, it wouldn’t choose a completely human form, right?

“Did I hear something wrong…? I thought I just heard a voice?”

Another cult disciple was even more confused. “Is it possible that our Lord deigned to use human language for some reason?”

As the cultists looked around at each other they saw confusion and doubt within each other’s eyes.

When Paracelsus took in the situation, he was silent for a moment. Hesitantly he asked, “My Lord?”

That was English!

When Zong Yan realized it, he immediately switched to fluent English. “Help! Help!”

As he spoke, he waved his hand to disperse the dark green fog. Oddly enough, the fog was poisonous and obviously should have had some effect on him, but it didn’t hurt him at all. Instead it surrounded him like the stars surround the moon, patiently safeguarding its treasure.

It was at this point that the cult finally got a good look at the person standing at the center of the altar.

Black hair, black eyes, fair skin, slender body. This was clearly a being that should be classified as human.

He was wearing the simplest clothes, a shirt and black trousers, and his face was calm but alert.

What was even more surprising was that the green fog began to disperse towards the edge of the altar. The instant the green mist came into contact with the tall green trees and plants nearby, they began to dry up and turn yellow, but the person standing in the middle wasn’t affected in the slightest.

Most embarrassing of all, Paracelsus kept thinking that face was really familiar.

Not only did the young man look familiar to Paracelsus, many of the people present felt the same. After all, many of those in the R’lyeh sect were professors or teaching assistants that Paracelsus had arranged to work at MU, while other underlings were inducted later.

In addition, Zong Yan’s face was well-known throughout the occult world. Although Zong Yan himself didn’t really fathom it, the tenth Monarch had a towering reputation among the new generation of investigators, not to mention the fact that he also was also the school chief of Miskatonic University.

Zong Yan’s name had become a legend in the school. New students who’d just entered the school eagerly listened to stories their seniors told them about the school chief. Even Wang KeMing, a member of the chief’s investigation team, was now a prominent figure on campus. Anyone who saw him had to give him a little face.

“—!!!”

After waving away the green fog, Zong Yan saw how strangely these people were dressed. He was on guard and warily took a few steps back. A golden alchemical magic pattern sprang to his fingers.

‘Black robes, pointed hoods, white bone masks… These are cultists.’

He was the chief of Miskatonic University, considered a highly talented student by many professors.

During one of his magic pattern practice classes, his professor had talked about this kind of costume….

Astonished, Zong Yan looked down.

He was standing on a dark green altar. Around it was a pile of shriveled, desiccated corpses that had already been corroded by the green fog. A few were little more than skeletons. Combined with the dried-up blood on the altar, Zong Yan’s righteous heart began to burn.

For a while, everyone fell into awkward silence.

“The tenth Monarch?!”

They might not have been certain at first, but after Zong Yan summoned a magic pattern, the cultists confirmed his identity.

No, wait, didn’t they successfully link up the summoning array just now?

The believers exchanged glances.

What the hell was going on with MU? Sure, there were cultists and infiltrators scattered left and right, but there was an evil god in the mix too?!

The disciples were stunned.

The ritual to summon an evil god was incredibly strict. Not only did it require a lot of specific materials, the cultists weren’t allowed to make a mistake at any point.

If the summoning failed, the altar wouldn’t give even the slightest response. But the summoning had completed, and the jade tablet of R’lyeh—

Oh, right, what happened to the R’lyeh jade?

Paracelsus turned sideways to look. The R’lyeh jade piece sat on a small altar across from the big altar. It had shattered into countless pieces, and when he saw that, his heart was in awe.

When the jade piece was discovered, it was covered with mysterious writing. The linguists at Miskatonic University who studied ancient languages tried for years to translate it before concluding it was an object that could be used as a summoning medium.

According to basic alchemical principles, if the summoning medium was destroyed, it meant it had fulfilled its mission.

And the R’lyeh jade piece was broken, which its target had been summoned.

There was a pause, and then a cultist suddenly said, “Is it possible that the tenth Monarch is an incarnation of His Majesty?”

Fck, now there was an interesting hypothesis.

Paracelsus fell into contemplation.

Firstly, the summoning medium had broken, and the summoning had successfully activated. Also, the strange green mist still seemed to obey the black-haired young man’s commands. Even if this new arrival wasn’t His Majesty, he was inextricably linked to His Majesty in some way.

Secondly, Zong Yan was the tenth Monarch, a supremely powerful individual who was recognized throughout the occult world as an ultra-high spec combat force, able to tear apart Great Old Ones with his hands. Everyone knew the tenth Monarch was extremely capable, but somehow no one ever thought this was unusual in any way. Only when Paracelsus considered it now did he realize that something about it wasn’t right, and a cold sweat broke out on his back.

There were many, many mythological stories in which a god was sealed and yet its avatar or stream of consciousness still walked the earth.

According to this logic, the tenth Monarch might be the incarnation of the Lord of R’lyeh. He had great power, but Zong Yan himself didn’t realize what was behind it.

“Be good! Hands up, you’re under arrest!”

While Paracelsus was lost in thought, Zong Yan crushed the Night Watchman card.

After a flash of dark light, the Night Watchman with a black umbrella in hand was already standing before them. His eyes were sharper than a razor.

When they taught reserve investigators what to do when encountering cultists, every professor at MU told them just one word: Fight!

As a group, fanatics and investigators were in irreconcilable conflict, and there was no chance of a mistake. Zong Yan had proof they were up to no good. The altar under his feet was clear evidence.

For a high school student like Zong Yan, who was outraged by injustice, he couldn’t bear it! Throw caution to the winds—we’re going to fight!

But the next moment, a few people who were MU professors in their daily lives, but infiltrator evil cultists in reality, looked at each other, knelt down again, and cried out in unison, “My Lord!”

Their brains made up a dramatic story in which the king of R’lyeh fell into a deep slumber while his consciousness roamed the world as a human who’d forgotten his memories. They got so into the scene they were totally convinced that it was true.

“The jade piece of R’lyeh can’t be wrong. You’re the great lord of R’lyeh, Your Majesty, the incomparable king!”

The believers bowed and worshipped one after another, earnestly persuading and exhorting him: “You may have become a human being and forgotten your original memories, but as your followers, our loyalty to you shines throughout heaven and earth. There’s absolutely no way we could be mistaken!”

Zong Yan’s pupils quaked. Under the Night Watchman’s command, the shadows he’d just uprooted from the ground retracted again.

Zong Yan’s experience in R’lyeh was a highly-classified secret. Aside from Yog-Sothoth, it was absolutely impossible that any other creature in existence knew about it, let alone humans.

As for his connection with Cthulhu… Zong Yan had already thrown the SS-rank persona card into the trash space. The card was completely destroyed. There was no way at all for him to use it.

When he considered the R’lyeh jade piece that was stolen from MU, it was easy to identify the group in front of him.

He looked at the red-haired high priest before the altar. The other party had obvious injuries to his arms and legs. It looked like he’d seen the losing end of a fight.

Oh, Paracelsus, we meet again so soon.

So—how on Earth did these people know he had a connection to R’lyeh?!

Based on their appearance, they could be followers of Cthulhu who tried to summon their god. Maybe through some mistake they ended up summoning him instead?

Zong Yan’s thoughts were spinning fast, but his face was unmoved as he tried to figure out what to do next.

Part of him wanted to immediately find the Lord of Time and Space and ask if his after-sales service included a warranty.

Then something suddenly happened.

The sky darkened. Lightning rolled and thunder roared behind the dark clouds.

On the surface of the sea, a huge whirlpool slowly began to take shape.

Something deep beneath the sea had just announced its imminent arrival.

TL Notes:

If you want to avoid cliffhangers, I suggest stockpiling the next 3 chapters (108 – 109 – 110). Of course, I’ll do my best to get them out quickly  ٩(◕‿◕)۶

Speaking of which, I have some RL stuff over the next few days, and that means I need to temporarily change my posting schedule. I will post updates about 12 hours later than usual (around 17:00 UTC). I’ll try to post earlier when I can!!

Help! Help! – This was in English in the raw

Hands up, you’re under arrest – 束手就擒 – allow oneself to be seized without putting up a fight; allow oneself to be arrested without offering any resistance; be captured; fold one’s hands for capture

Transliterated names, titles, and places—new in this chapter:

Lord Cthulhu – 吾主克苏鲁 – Wúzhǔ Kèsūlǔ

Cthulhu, Lord of R’lyeh – Lāláiyé zhīzhǔ Kèsūlǔ

My Lord – 吾主 – wú zhǔ – Can be used to address a god (“Lord” God etc.)

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