Published at 28th of January 2026 6:24 am

Chapter 1949 The truth about the chosen

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"...Perhaps he can enlighten us?"

The shaggy-haired young man revealed a broad grin, one that carried a sharp edge of provocation, as if he were deliberately trying to stir the waters.

Whoosh Whoosh

Two more figures materialized inside the Chamber of Truth. The moment their feet touched the ground, their attention snapped to the unusual gathering. Without hesitation, they moved closer, joining the loose circle forming around the old man with the dog's head.

"What's going on here?" one of them asked, his tone alert and curious. "...Heh~"

The dog-headed old man let out a long, weary sigh as he counted the faces around him-six people now, all having appeared within just a few short minutes. "If Metal Face were here... or as you prefer to call him, Lord Human... he would be utterly stunned by the sheer number of Truth Chosen who dare to show themselves these days."

He took several slow steps away from the center, deliberately removing himself from the heart of the circle, as though distancing himself from their accusations. "The spiky-haired one and I continued to come here, accepting missions openly and with pride, while all of you kept your heads lowered- scurrying about in search of somewhere safe, somewhere that could shelter you and guarantee your daily sustenance. I will not accept being cast aside now, not for any reason whatsoever." His voice hardened. "If anything, you should be coming to me for advice and guidance... that would be far more worthwhile than this hollow, meaningless chatter."

"Tsk- he's dodging the question again."

"This isn't the first time he's tried to turn the tables"

"Honestly, he should've chosen a fox's head as his secret emblem-not a dog's." "I won't let you get away this time, old man."

The shaggy-haired young man stepped forward, closing the distance behind him. "I'm not like these newcomers. I've been coming here for hundreds of thousands of years- even if it was only once every few decades." His gaze sharpened. "And what kept me from attending more frequently to increase my income wasn't fear of being tracked by the Soul Society, nor fear of exposure through the missions I accepted. No... it was you, and the spiky-haired one." He stopped, then raised his hand and pointed directly at him. "You're suspicious by nature, and he's utterly diseased with competitiveness. Each of you is a danger signal on your own. I can't believe Lord Human had to endure dealing with the two of you, forced to look at your repulsive faces for decades... perhaps even centuries." His lips curled with disdain. "No wonder he stopped coming here altogether and began accepting requests outside. You made him despise something called the Truth Chamber, and possibly hated all other Truth Chosen. He spread his hands wide, as if presenting an undeniable verdict. "You ruined the opportunity for all of us."

"That's... true."

"I really wish I could see Lord Human just once... even if only to exchange a few words with him."

Whoosh

At that exact moment, another figure appeared-a man with sharply spiked hair. The instant he took in the scene, his brows knitted together in irritation. "What's going on here?"

"The usual..."

The dog-headed old man sighed once more upon seeing him, then turned away and walked toward his favorite seat. "They're accusing us of driving Metal Face one out of the Truth Chamber."

"Tsk!"

The spiky-haired man waved his hand casually, passing a sphere of light to the fairy without even slowing down. He then strode toward the wall, scanned the requests with practiced efficiency, and within barely ten seconds tore a single request from the seventh row. Turning back, he returned to the midpoint, his movements smooth and decisive, and calmly prepared to depart-as if everything that had just transpired was nothing more than background noise. "Hey!" The shaggy-haired young man's voice boomed across the Chamber of Truth, sharp and commanding, "Aren't you going to say anything? At least tell us how it feels-what it truly feels like-to be one of the most hated Truth Chosen in the entire universe? Surely it must weigh on you!"

"...!?"

The spiky-haired one froze mid-step, his expression hardening as he realized he had been cornered by words. "Oh, I do have something to say," he finally admitted, his tone low but laced with defiance. Then, pointing directly at the shaggy-haired young man, he hissed, "Go to hell, both you and Metal Face! I will be the next Great Truth Chosen, and mark my words, I will make both of you crawl under my feet, trembling, desperate, longing for even a single glance from me!!"

Whoosh

And just like that, he vanished into the ethereal shadows of the chamber.

"Heh~ his mind has completely flown off the rails."

"They say he's been like that ever since the auction. Every opportunity he gets, he curses Lord Human with every ounce of his being. That behavior earned him the instant hatred of all the new Truth Chosen here in the chamber and led to his expulsion, He only comes to get new requests and leave immediately, no longer have the right to work or stay here."

"Hehe, he imagined that because Lord Human could just accept missions without ever showing up in the chamber, that he could do the same. His request was promptly rejected. He had no choice but to return, accept the missions, and leave without saying a single word."

The shaggy-haired young man glanced to his side, his expression slightly amused. "At least he has some courage in his veins, some fire in his blood. Not like certain others, still glued to the chamber as if stuck in place with invisible glue, refusing to ever leave."

"Heh-" The dog-headed old man exhaled a slow, weary sigh. "I suppose today I'll give you all a reprieve from my presence."

Whoosh

Somewhere in Sector 720-

Bam

An old man struggled to push himself upright from his heavy, dark chair. His joints creaked with effort, yet he forced himself to stand tall. Placing both hands behind his back, he advanced slowly toward a stone-framed window, his gaze fixed on the cold, distant moon above.

His appearance offered no certainty as to whether he was fully human or not. His skin was slightly sun-kissed, a dull wheat-like tone, but his face was deeply wrinkled and lined, aged and weathered from years of knowledge and struggle. Not much had changed from the way he looked in the Chamber of Truth, yet now his presence carried an aura of solitary gravity.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth, his voice low and wavering: "...Did I make a mistake?" His eyes, reflecting the pale moonlight, seemed to pierce the darkness outside. Then he continued, "Did I make a mistake when I informed on Sector 100?"

He lowered his gaze toward the sprawling city beneath him, its streets alive with countless children playing under this perpetual night. "Did I err because I sought to gather more funds to support everyone through selling this information? Because I wanted to reduce competition for requests in the Chamber of Truth so I could strengthen my world, ensure its stability, and provide for all under my care?"

"...I did make a mistake."

After a long, uncertain pause, he spoke again, his tone bitter yet resolute. "I erred by acting too hastily. I didn't try to gather enough information before selling it. Had I done so, I could have ensured its removal, as I had with every previous case. The boy was foolish, speaking out without my permission!" He exhaled a heavy sigh. "Heh- the spiky-haired fool-if he hadn't intervened at that precise moment, shouting at Metal face and scaring him into silence... Agh,

It's his fault!"

/Farewell to the lucky one, and see you soon to the rat./

"...." The old man fell silent, the phrase reverberating ominously in his mind. "... Impossible, right? Surely he suspects the spiky-haired one more, and even if he suspects me... my method of selling information is flawless. This is not the first time I've done this, and it will certainly not be the last!"

A soft, dry laugh escaped his lips. "I have intelligence on thirteen fools. I

wonder... what would be the price if I sold all of them at once?" His eyes glimmered with a sharp, calculating light as he stared up at the pale moon. "And as for you... Metal face, continue your work, climb higher and higher, push yourself beyond all limits, forget the likes of me... embrace the endless void of

oblivion."

Knock Knock

"Hm?"

The old man's leathery brows knitted together as he turned toward the door.

His spiritual senses strained, unable to discern the fine details of those standing outside, yet he could feel the presence of roughly five individuals, each of different size, stature, and physical build. "Who is there? You are not of this world!"

"We are the Enforcement Forces."

The short man at the front spoke with a firm, authoritative tone. Then, Bam!-

he kicked the door open with force and entered, wearing a broad, confident grin. "A removal order has arrived for you!"

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