I Created a Containment Object at the Start, and Became a God

91: A bloodthirsty mask! I’m hungry!Lin Zhi floated silently in mid-air.

Like a detached deity, he coldly observed the dramatic changes unfolding below.

Okamoto Ichiro’s wails, his body’s contortions, and the madly surging dark energy were merely an interesting chemical reaction in his eyes.

This mask was a little gadget he had created on a whim to more “efficiently” collect life energy, named the Bloodthirsty Mask.

The Bloodthirsty Mask would, in a predatory manner, forcibly overdraw all of the wearer’s future vitality, transforming it into a violent and fleeting dark power.

The wearer would gain strength, speed, and reaction capabilities far exceeding mortal limits, as well as terrifying, almost immortal self-healing abilities—as long as their vitality hadn’t been completely drained, severed limbs could even regenerate.

More importantly, the mask could resonate with the wearer’s deepest darkness, using their negative emotions as fuel to summon bound, immortal demon soldiers.

These demons had no self-awareness, only pure killing instinct. As long as the wearer, their Host, was not killed, they could reassemble and revive from shadows even if blasted into fragments.

The more the wearer’s heart was filled with resentment, despair, and a desire for slaughter, the more demons they could summon, and the stronger each individual demon would be.

At this moment, in the bedroom.

Senkuchi Hyakusen was enthusiastically on top of Yoshiko, who was actively accommodating him.

Suddenly interrupted by Jirō’s heartbreaking wails and the sounds of things being violently smashed outside, Senkuchi frowned in displeasure.

”What’s that good-for-nothing outside going crazy about?” he cursed crudely.

A flicker of disgust and contempt crossed Yoshiko’s eyes as she soothed him with a sickly sweet voice:

”Oh, Big Brother Senkuchi, ignore him! It must be his useless pride acting up, and he doesn’t dare to come in, so he’s just smashing things outside to vent! What a complete good-for-nothing!”

With that, she hooked her arms tighter around Senkuchi’s neck and twisted her body. ”Let’s continue, shall we? Don’t let someone like him spoil the mood~”

Senkuchi laughed heartily at her words, patting Yoshiko’s face. ”You’re right! He’s just a spineless coward! Let’s continue!”

He prepared to resume his actions.

However—

The wails and smashing sounds outside, after reaching a peak, abruptly ceased.

A deathly, unsettling silence instantly enveloped the room. Even the noise from the apartment next door seemed to vanish.

This transition from extreme motion to extreme stillness was too bizarre. Senkuchi Hyakusen’s street-smarts, honed from years in the yakuza, made him pause, and Yoshiko also felt an inexplicable chill.

”What’s going on?” Senkuchi frowned, straining his ears to listen.

Just at that instant—

”BOOM!!!!!!!!!!”

A deafening roar! The heavy solid wood door of the bedroom seemed to have been struck head-on by an out-of-control heavy truck.

Along with the door frame and part of the wall, it was brutally torn and shattered from the outside by an indescribably terrifying force!

Wood splinters, bricks, and dust surged inward like an explosion!

The powerful shockwave knocked the furniture in the room askew, and the cheap picture frames hanging on the wall shattered!

Senkuchi Hyakusen and Yoshiko were scared out of their wits by this sudden turn of events.

Senkuchi instinctively rolled to the bedside, grabbing a metal ashtray from the nightstand as a weapon.

Yoshiko let out a scream, clutching the quilt tightly to cover her body, staring in horror at the dust swirling in the doorway.

The dust slowly settled.

Outside the shattered doorway, in the dim light, a figure stood silently.

It was no longer the timid, bruised, and battered Okamoto Ichiro.

His face was covered by a grotesque, seemingly living demon mask that pulsed faintly and emitted an ominous red glow. The mask’s eye sockets were an unfathomable darkness.

His body appeared to have grown taller and stronger, with bulging blue veins beneath his exposed skin, presenting an unhealthy dark red hue, and suffocating black malevolence visibly swirled around him.

What was most chilling was the gaze projected through the mask—filled with the purest, coldest killing intent, as if looking at a dead object.

”Mon...monster?!” Yoshiko stammered, teeth chattering, incoherent with fear.

Senkuchi Hyakusen’s scalp also tingled, but he forced himself to calm down, raising the ashtray and shouting with feigned bravery:

”Baka! What are you?! Playing tricks! Get out of here!”

Jirō, or rather, the being wearing the Bloodthirsty Mask, ignored Senkuchi’s shouts.

His eyes, hidden behind the mask, first swept coldly over the naked, cowering Yoshiko, then slowly fixed on Senkuchi Hyakusen, who was also naked but trying to adopt a fighting stance.

A terrifying, almost tangible sense of oppression, like an iceberg, enveloped the entire room.

”Hoo...” From beneath the mask came a hoarse, indistinct low chuckle, as if from the netherworld.

”Is it... fun... Yoshiko...”

A hoarse, distorted voice, as if vocal cords had been abraded by sandpaper, yet with a chillingly familiar tone, slowly squeezed out from beneath the demon mask.

Although the voice was strange, Senkuchi Hyakusen and Yoshiko recognized it almost immediately—it was clearly Okamoto Ichiro’s voice.

But it was mixed with an inhuman, metallic scraping noise and a madness that pierced to the bone!

”Ji... Jirō?!”

Yoshiko screamed in terror, her soul nearly leaving her body, trembling like a leaf in the wind. ”No... impossible! How could you...”

Senkuchi Hyakusen was also completely stunned. He widened his eyes, staring in disbelief at the ”monster” before him, nearly three meters tall, almost touching the ceiling, exuding an ominous black and red aura and terrifying pressure!

How could this be that good-for-nothing Okamoto Ichiro, whom he had wantonly humiliated and who didn’t even dare to breathe loudly?!

”It’s... it’s me...”

Beneath the mask, Jirō’s lips curved into an exaggerated, face-splitting grin, revealing sharp, beast-like fangs, with viscous saliva dripping between his teeth.

”How could you... not recognize... your husband... my dear... wife...”

”You... how did you become like this?!” Yoshiko cried out in near collapse, the scene before her completely beyond her comprehension.

Hearing this, he paused for a moment, then erupted in fury!

”How did I become like this?!” Jirō’s voice suddenly rose, a roar like a wounded beast instantly exploding!

”ROAR!!! You two adulterers!!! You still have the nerve to ask me why?!”

A terrifying sound wave, carrying tangible malevolence, burst forth.

The remaining window glass, the dresser mirror, and even the chandelier in the bedroom, all shattered with a ”ping-ling-pang-lang” amidst this roar filled with endless resentment.

Glass fragments splattered like a rainstorm!

Senkuchi Hyakusen and Yoshiko’s eardrums were pierced by the roar, their blood surging, nearly making them faint!

However, this extreme rage came and went quickly.

Almost in the next second, Jirō’s massive body swayed slightly, and the roar ceased abruptly.

He tilted his demon-masked head, his movements stiff and eerie, like a marionette.

The voice from beneath the mask suddenly became unusually ”calm,” even carrying a childlike, innocent yet cruel curiosity:

”Hmm...”

He raised a now enormous, dark red hand with razor-sharp nails and gently pressed it against his rumbling abdomen.

”I think... I’m a little... hungry...”

After speaking, his cold, bloodthirsty gaze, emanating through the mask, slowly, like assessing food, refocused on the two naked, terrified, and rigid individuals on the bed.

A predatory hunger, even more chilling than the pure killing intent from before, spread through the air...