Chapter 66
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Underground Club and the Faithful's Gathering (Captured Exorcists - Public Humiliation) (2)
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They were the faithful of the Camellia Cult, and this gathering was their rite of worship—offering tributes to their god under the banner of "Camellia."
But worship here didn't demand any piety.
The priestly robes were just something a few obsessed vice bishops had pushed for; the god himself hadn't asked for them.
There was no rule saying you had to wear them, so plenty of people dressed freely.
"Worship prep" just meant grabbing the booze, snacks, and women that were laid out and indulging in whatever debauchery struck your fancy. That was it.
And the actual scene of the worship was much the same. After all, their god reveled in pleasure, games, revelry, and decadence above all else.
The performance kicking off now was clearly another tribute to that very god—a core part of the rite.
"Faithful! Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, one and all, to this fucked-up night!!"
The pounding, upbeat music swelled once more.
The crowd erupted in ecstasy alongside it. The believers who'd been toying with and fucking the bunny girl servers just moments ago didn't even pause—they just lifted their heads and cheered wildly.
Everyone was more fired up than usual.
After all, these exorcists were bitches who'd been offered up to the god as sacrifices just once before.
Sacrificed bitches remained the god's property until he grew bored of them.
They were handed over to him and plunged into a world of sticky ecstasy, every moment of every day. From head to toe, their minds, the bones and organs beneath their skin—all melted away in that drenched, blatant rapture.
The god had been thoroughly pleased with this batch of offerings.
He clearly hadn't tired of them yet, which made it all the rarer for him to show them off to the faithful like prized possessions, urging everyone to have a taste.
These were the impudent exorcists who'd dared probe into the god's true nature.
Some believers wanted to punish their insolence; others were intrigued because these were bitches the god had taken a special shine to.
Either way, with all eyes drawn more intently than usual, the emcee cracked the short whip in his hand through the air and paced behind the four of them with deliberate steps.
"Up on today's stage, we have tributes specially provided by the god himself. It's rare for ones still in his possession to be paraded before everyone like this. They're such favorites that he just had to brag about them to you all."
Bitches personally endorsed by the god.
And sure enough, every one was top-shelf.
The emcee hammered the point home, flaunting them, then lightly tapped their asses with the whip.
"Nngh♡"
"Mmmph...♡"
The sacrificial bitches on stage twitched oversensitively at even that gentle touch.
Some were already drooling pussy juice in streams; others had their nipples stiff and perky.
Proof they'd basked in the god's lavish favor.
The aphrodisiac smokes the faithful favored, the lotions used here—all came from the god's own body.
The emcee varied his strokes, smacking their asses, tits, thighs, bellies, and such with the whip.
Each time, they writhed in delight like they might shatter. Pleasure far outweighed any pain.
One even came right there from the whip alone.
"Already desperate to get fucked, aren't you, you exorcist sluts."
The emcee pulled one of them—the short-haired exorcist—into an embrace and whispered in her ear.
Her body shivered in rapture at his voice once more.
She was the leader who'd commanded the exorcist team that came sniffing around here. An A-rank, top-tier exorcist.
But now? She was a lewder, piggier slut than anyone else in the room—especially favored by the god.
"Tormenting women is fun, isn't it? So damn fun! You pious faithful must agree. Then let's move to the next act for even more thrills. Helpers! Get up here!"
Fresh cheers rang out as the male assistants climbed onto the stage.
Along with all the gear and setups needed for what came next.
Topless, wearing bizarre masks, leather belts, and other accessories—their getups were grotesque.
Veteran helpers and trainers, ready to wring new pleasures from these exorcist sows.
Ryeong watched the steadily progressing performance, eyes fixed on the jubilant stage.
─What the hell are these fuckers so thrilled about?
She observed the scene coolly for a moment.
Her rage burned cold.
When the exorcists were dragged onstage, she hadn't charged in right away—not out of any grand strategy.
The mob's feverish cheers, thick with heat, had blocked her reflexive lunge.
They were cheering like madmen, and curiosity bloomed: what the fuck has them so entranced?
So before acting, she'd hung back to gauge their reactions. Watched intently to see what performance was about to unfold.
The first round of introductions passed, giving way to binding the exorcists in restraints and tormenting them.
Public whippings for all to see, shoving things into their asses, lightly zapping their erogenous zones to show off the reactions.
One modded to lactate even sprayed milk, turning it into a full milking show.
A female believer was called up, strapped on a writhing yokai cock, and fucked one of the restrained exorcists.
The emcee rubbed his face gleefully against the ass of one exorcist whipped bright red and swollen.
The bound exorcists were slathered head to toe in a bizarre, transparent slime.
The "woman-maddening lotion" provided by the god—smeared on thick—and their reactions amped up even more.
The short-haired A-rank exorcist—someone Ryeong knew—couldn't hold back after fresh whippings on her lotion-slick ass and squirted wildly.
"Tormenting women is so~oo much fun! How can it be this enjoyable?! Let's all thank the god who grants us this pleasure! We must give thanks!!"
The emcee's excited voice boomed through the speakers.
The crowd agreed wholeheartedly, screaming in frenzy.
─Enough now.
The initial frenzy had thrown off her timing.
Then curiosity kept her watching: what's got them this hooked?
But that was done. The performance was just starting, but Ryeong had seen plenty.
"Ryeong? What's the plan?"
"Don't get in my way."
"Wouldn't dream of it. Whatever Ryeong wants, I'll make it happen."
Dom sidled up, having caught on, and smiled as always.
In this insane space, she alone felt unchanged. It brought a sliver of calm.
"...Time to wreck the place."
"Yeah. Gonna wreck it."
"Turn it into a total shitshow."
"Yep. Total shitshow."
"Everyone here in priest robes? Kill 'em all."
"Got it. Massacre."
"Dom, get out."
"Sure thing☆ Go wild, don't mind me☆"
That ended the talk.
Dom wouldn't interfere. No intention to. Just watching with thrilled eyes.
White spiritual power flames ignited silently in Ryeong's open palms—no sound, no presence.
Next instant: her signature short wooden club and an energy-forged blade.
She gripped one in each hand and advanced toward the chairman.
Her movements were utterly silent amid the din, making her presence stand out all the more.
'Is this really okay?'
Rationally, no—not smart.
For the mission, better to lurk unseen and dig for intel.
Left alone, they wouldn't die; exorcist bodies could endure that level of torture easy.
She knew, being one herself.
So not the wise choice.
She knew that—and still had no plans to stop.
The emcee was still ranting: "Tormenting women is so~~~ much fun! Can't stop!!"
It infuriated her beyond endurance. Vision went blood-red with rage, then cooled to sharp clarity.
But the flames of fury burned undimmed.
Why this anger?
Empathy with those captured sisters, sharing a woman's body?
'No, not that.'
Mocking women pissed her off.
But mocking men would too.
Ah, right.
This rage wasn't because she was a woman.
These subhuman scum dared mock humans.
That—treating humans like jokes—enraged her past bearing.
'Fine. Decided. No changing course.'
'─Massacre every last one, you ape trash.'
One more step forward.
Cold fury into flames.
Weapons blazed pure white with her rage-infused spiritual power as eyes on the stage began slyly noticing the odd vibe.
That's when someone in black priest robes drifted up beside her.