The inner hall of the Eternal Paradise Faith.
Night had fallen deep—but there was no peace to be found.
The air here felt almost frozen in place. Massive ice lotus flowers were arranged all around the hall, exuding a pale, white chill.
An ordinary person wouldn't last more than a few moments here before their lungs were damaged by the subzero cold.
Kotoha was wrapped in a thick fox-fur cloak. Even though she herself couldn't really feel the cold, that Upper Rank Two had still insisted on bundling her up.
"You look better wearing it,"
Doma said firmly.
"Don't let yourself freeze."
In his hands, Doma casually toyed with his pair of refined metal fans, yet his gaze rested on the platform beside him.
There, Inosuke lay sprawled out on his back atop the hard, icy surface, sleeping soundly—there was even a trace of drool at the corner of his mouth.
For someone with an Ice Spirit Physique, a place that could freeze others to death felt as comfortable as a cool bamboo mat in the height of summer.
"How unfair," Doma murmured.
He turned his head, his eyes drifting back and forth between Kotoha and the soundly sleeping Inosuke, a playful smile curling at his lips.
He extended a pale finger. At the tip of it, a tiny ice butterfly condensed and fluttered down, gently landing on the tip of Inosuke's nose.
The icy touch didn't wake him. Instead, the faint itch from the butterfly's wings made him frown.
Irritated, Inosuke waved a little hand, shattering the ice butterfly in one slap, then groggily opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was Doma's face—eerily beautiful under the moonlight.
A wave of waking-up rage surged inside him.
"Awake? Perfect timing. The moonlight is nice tonight—Daddy will teach you something new."
Doma straightened, cleared his throat.
In an instant, his presence changed.
The usual frivolous smile vanished. He lowered his voice, his chest subtly vibrating as he produced a sound that was utterly unique—one that seemed to pierce straight through the ears and into the soul.
"Wan—shi—ji—le."
Those four simple words, spoken aloud, carried a soul-gripping, bewitching power.
Inosuke nearly felt like peeing himself.
This was Doma's exclusive resonance voice—the con artist's divine tone he had used for over two centuries to deceive countless believers, making them willingly offer up flesh and blood.
In the corner, Kotoha's eyes instantly grew unfocused, as though she had fallen into an illusion.
[Ding! God-Tier Villain Cultivation System activated!]
[Current situation: Doma's personal instruction.]
[Please make a choice:]
[Option A: Follow the original plot and become a mute beauty. Reward: Boar head mask.]
[Option B: Acknowledge the enemy as your father. Learn whatever Dad teaches. Reward: Lung capacity enhancement.]
B! Obviously B!
Back then I had no choice—having a better voice can only be a good thing!
The instant he heard that sound, the system panel in his mind flickered slightly.
The Absolute Pitch talent—derived from his mother and enhanced by the system—automatically activated.
To Inosuke's ears, Doma's voice was no longer some mysterious, bladder-threatening divine oracle.
It instantly broke down into a waveform—one that only he could see.
He could clearly distinguish how Doma's Adam's apple contracted, how airflow traveled between the vocal cords.
So that's how it works!
This is this guy's brainwashing trick?
"Come, Inosuke. Try calling out once."
Doma looked at him expectantly, strange light flickering in his eyes.
"Once you master this voice, those foolish believers will obediently listen to you and offer everything they have.
"Who knows—maybe Daddy will listen to you someday too~"
Inosuke rolled over and sat cross-legged on the ice platform.
He wasn't interested in being a cult leader—but if he wanted to survive and thrive in a world where people ate people, mastering this kind of trick was clearly useful.
He took a deep breath, his tiny chest swelling as he tried to control his immature vocal cords and reproduce the sound.
Doma watched with great interest, waiting for babyish babbling.
However—
The very next second, the sound that burst from Inosuke's mouth made Doma's pupils contract sharply.
"HU—NGRY!!!!!!!!"
The word itself was different.
But the texture of the sound—the ethereal, sacred cadence, the soul-shaking frequency—was virtually identical to Doma's own!
The childish voice echoed through the hall.
Clang!
In the corner, the hand warmer slipped from Kotoha's grasp and hit the floor.
She stared at her son in shock. For a fleeting moment, she felt an illusion—
That Inosuke wasn't a baby at all,
but a miniature god.
"Perfect!
Perfect!"
"Kotoha-chan, you're incredible!
What kind of genius did you give birth to?!
"This child… he's really not my biological son?!"
Doma muttered to himself, completely forgetting to fan himself.
Excitement practically overflowed from his eyes, as though he were gazing at an unparalleled treasure.
"This isn't just imitation—this pitch, this breath control, it's me!
"It took me ten years to figure this out, and you mastered it after hearing it once?!"
Doma suddenly lifted Inosuke high overhead, his smile twisted and fanatical.
"A genius! No—
a monster born to rule humanity!
"Inosuke, you are truly my child!"
Inosuke stared blankly at the wildly excited Doma, completely unmoved—he even wanted to roll his eyes.
What's so hard about this?
With cheats like mine, isn't this basic stuff?
If you understood that I said I'm hungry, shouldn't you hurry up and serve food already?
Just then, a trembling voice came from outside the hall doors.
"C–Cult Leader… that believer who stole the offerings is still kneeling outside, begging for your forgiveness. Should we…?"
Doma's good mood was interrupted. A cold displeasure flashed through his eyes.
"Ah. That ungrateful little mouse."
He casually pulled Inosuke into his arms, his tone returning to that false gentleness.
"How annoying.
"Let him in. He can serve as a teaching aid for my Inosuke."
Moments later, the heavy doors creaked open. A gaunt, middle-aged man was dragged inside by two guards.
His entire body trembled. His clothes were tattered. The moment he saw Doma on the dais, he began kowtowing frantically, his forehead thudding against the icy floor.
"Please spare me, Cult Leader! Please! I was just too hungry—my children at home are waiting to eat!
"You have a child too!
You must understand!"
Doma looked down at the man as if he were an ant.
"I'd like to forgive you too," he sighed, wearing an expression of divine compassion.
"But what you stole were offerings meant for the gods. If the gods are unhappy, it puts me in a difficult position."
The man's wailing grew even more desperate. Despair flooded the hall.
Doma lowered his head and whispered into Inosuke's ear, his voice like a devil's temptation.
"Inosuke, look—this person is crying.
"Since you've learned the voice of the gods, why don't you tell him what to do?"
"Should he die?
Or should he leave behind that thieving hand as penance?"
It was a lethal question.
Doma was testing him—guiding him—trying to stain that blank sheet of a soul with its first drop of blood.
Inosuke looked at the sobbing man below.
Acknowledging an enemy as his father was one thing—but Inosuke still had principles.
Bullying someone who couldn't even eat his fill—what kind of skill was that?
You want me to decide? Fine. Don't blame me for not playing along.
Inosuke took a deep breath. His small chest filled with every bit of air it could hold.
Activating his Absolute Pitch simulation once more, he unleashed a childish yet thunderous roar toward the despairing man below:
"GET—OUT!!!!!!!!!!"
One word.
Simple. Brutal.
And it echoed terrifyingly through the grand hall.
The man felt as if struck by lightning. His mind went completely blank.
To him, this wasn't a baby's cry.
This was divine forgiveness. A revelation.
The god told him to get out—which meant he wouldn't be killed!
"Th–thank you, Divine Child! Thank you, Cult Leader! Thank you, Saintess!
"Long live the Divine Child!
Long live the Cult Leader!
Long live the Saintess!"
Ecstatic, the man scrambled and crawled out of the hall, terrified that if he was even a second too slow, the Divine Child might change his mind.
Silence returned to the hall.
Doma raised an eyebrow, looking down at the baby in his arms, his gaze turning playful.
"'Get out'?"
He chuckled, gently poking Inosuke's cheek.
"I thought you'd tell him to leave his hand behind. After all, stealing should be punished, right?"
Inosuke yawned, burying his head into Doma's chest and rubbing against it, using the demon's icy body temperature to cool himself down.
He sneered internally.
Leave his hand my ass, dumb old man.
That guy's nothing but bones—he wouldn't even taste good. And he'd dirty the floor.
Let him go, and he'll spread the word that the Eternal Paradise Faith has a merciful Divine Child.
More believers. More offerings.
That's called casting a long line to reel in a big fish.
Doma looked at the seemingly harmless yet deeply calculating baby in his arms and suddenly laughed.
"Hehehe… I see.
"Not even worth punishing an ant?
Or were you trying to buy people's hearts?"
"What a greedy—and clever—little thing you are.
"I'm liking you more and more~"
As Doma's words fell, Inosuke felt a warm current surge up from his chest.
That was the system's reward for successfully using the voice skill to achieve his goal—
Lung Capacity Enhancement.
His breathing grew longer and stronger—an absolutely critical foundation for learning breathing techniques in the future.
Excellent.
Bigger lungs mean more power later—whether I'm cursing people out… or swinging a blade.