Tokyo Exorcism Diary

Unable to find the information he wanted in the notebook, Hoshino Gen wasn’t particularly disappointed—this wasn’t the real prize anyway.

Then, Shimizu Yuu, who didn’t understand much about computers, watched as Hoshino Gen tapped rapidly on the keyboard. The screen displayed a black page that looked like something out of a programmer’s coding interface.

Shortly after, Hoshino Gen crouched down and rummaged through the drawers under the computer desk for a while. Eventually, he pulled out a black USB drive and plugged it into the desktop’s USB port.

A “ding” sounded from the computer, and a small window appeared in the upper-right corner of the screen, showing that files were being imported.

The black coding interface refreshed rapidly, and the secondary monitor connected to the same system started switching displays. YouTube automatically opened, skipping the update phase and going straight to the login screen.

The code window refreshed several more times, and the account credentials were automatically entered. Hoshino Gen clicked “Log in” with the mouse, and the screen showed a loading animation before successfully logging in moments later.

Shimizu Yuu was dumbfounded as she watched from the side. Even though she didn’t understand much about computers, she knew what she had just witnessed wasn’t something an ordinary person could pull off. But then she thought about it—if this guy could even use “magic,” then it wasn’t all that surprising for him to pull off something impressive on a computer, right? With that thought, Shimizu Yuu calmed down. Still, she couldn’t help but ask curiously, “You know hacking?”

“No,” Hoshino Gen shook his head. “I just bought some cracking software from someone.”

“Oh.” Hearing that, Shimizu Yuu felt even more at ease. So it was just “money power.” Here she was, thinking this guy was omnipotent or something~

Hoshino Gen didn’t care what Shimizu Yuu thought. Holding the mouse, he navigated to the live playback section of the account’s homepage. However, despite the smooth process up until now, things went wrong at this step. No matter how many times Hoshino Gen refreshed, the page refused to load the live playback.

Eventually, the software crashed altogether, causing the computer to freeze.

Hoshino Gen was briefly surprised but quickly pinpointed the issue. From the pocket containing Chi-chan’s phone, a chilling aura seeped through the fabric, brushing against his skin.

It felt like a venomous snake slithering and climbing over him, Chiding shivers down his spine.

Without hesitation, Hoshino Gen pulled out the phone. The talisman stuck to the back of it had already been partially burned. On the screen, Chi-chan’s eyes were blood-red, and her hair seemed to flutter unnaturally.

She looked quite terrifying, but Hoshino Gen wasn’t scared. He fished out a fresh talisman, ready to replace the partially burned one. But just as he was about to do so, something truly surprising happened.

The white webpage displaying the software crash turned blood-red, as if blood was seeping through it. Snowy static flickered across the computer screen, and when it finally cleared, a video began to play.

It was a livestream video from the perspective of the streamer.

…

The video lasted over two hours. Hoshino Gen and Shimizu Yuu sat on the bed, silently watching it from beginning to end.

Rather than viewing a live playback, it felt more like witnessing two hours of chaos in the comment section. Initially, the comments were filled with adoration, praising Chi-chan’s cuteness and discussing her livestream content enthusiastically. But as the viewer count skyrocketed, the topics shifted to Chi-chan’s past experiences.

Perhaps because this video was drawn from the vengeful memories of Chi-chan, now a vengeful spirit, the overwhelming resentment seemed to distort those dark recollections. The comments shown in the video were entirely negative.

Ridicule, mockery—even vulgar jokes and obscene “stories” made up by the viewers about her misfortunes filled the screen. The filthy and hateful remarks were unbearable to look at.

Hoshino Gen and Shimizu Yuu watched as the girl’s eyes changed—from feigned brightness and cheerfulness, to fear and terror, and finally to emptiness and despair.

They witnessed a “murder” in progress.

When the video ended, the computer screen went completely black.

“That’s so cruel… It’s just too cruel. How could they do that?” Shimizu Yuu murmured, her eyes red-rimmed. Perhaps it was her first time realizing how vile people could be, and the impact on her seemed even greater than when she had seen Hoshino Gen use supernatural powers.

In contrast, Hoshino Gen remained calm from beginning to end. When the video ended, he simply slipped the phone back into his pocket, not even bothering to replace the partially burned talisman.

If Hoshino Gen had previously thought that if Michiko had been a kind person in life, her hatred in death might have been directed solely at the scumbag teacher who caused her downfall, he now had confirmation.

Michiko resenited all those who had driven her to her death—all the abusers and the countless “executioners” hiding behind screens, spewing vile and hateful words.

And in that over-two-hour livestream, the IDs leaving toxic comments easily numbered in the thousands…

What a shame. Hoshino Gen had been mentally prepared to make Michiko his first vengeful spirit contract and transition to becoming a spirit master. Yet in the end, it all came to nothing.

“What do we do next?” Shimizu Yuu, unaware of Hoshino Gen’s thoughts, looked at him with tearful eyes and asked.

Hoshino Gen wasn’t planning to hide anything from her—it would be pointless. Just as he was about to explain his original plan and why it was now off the table, he suddenly remembered something.

Come to think of it… didn’t vengeful spirit Michiko have the ability to traverse the digital world?

A vengeful spirit’s powers often correlated with their dying obsessions. Combining that with the video they just watched… it became quite intriguing.

Realizing a new possibility, Hoshino Gen didn’t answer Shimizu Yuu’s question. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called the special affairs unit number that had provided him with Michiko’s information.

The call connected quickly, and a familiar, pleasant female voice came through: “Good afternoon. Let me guess, you need my help with something?”

From her voice, Hoshino Gen immediately knew it was Asakura Meika. He figured this woman would likely be his main contact for dealings with the special affairs unit in the future, given she had facilitated their collaboration.

But he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Cutting straight to the point, he asked, “In the information you sent me about the vengeful spirit earlier, how many people has she killed?”