Anime Multiverse: Building a Pantheon from Scratch

In the third block of Beika Town, inside an unfinished apartment building wrapped in green construction safety netting, Sharon had made temporary use of one of the rooms as her hideout. This apartment was a project built by the well-known Chiba-based contractor, Yukinoshita Construction, as part of its expansion into the capital's construction sector. Though the main structure and inner walls were 80% complete, it had been suspended due to under-the-table industrial conflicts between construction firms.

Taking advantage of the current halt in progress, Sharon had claimed a space for herself. Now slumped in a corner of the room, she stripped off clothes stolen from a nearby residence, tending to her wounds with white gauze and ointments. Drained both physically and mentally, she reached for the medical kit beside her.

Click. The kit opened with a snap, revealing 20 test tubes filled with various colored liquids. Sharon downed each vial one by one. As the concoctions entered her system, her gunshot wounds began to visibly regenerate. The potions included those that healed injuries, restored stamina, and even stabilized mental imbalances—alchemy-made elixirs crafted specifically for commander-class demon hunters. In just a short while, her bandaged wounds had all but healed, and her stamina had recovered to about 80%, though her complexion still remained a little pale.

The cost of recovery was steep: half her potion stock was now depleted, and special gauze previously white wrapped around her body had turned a dull gray.

"Tch... credit where it's due—the alchemists back in the organization aren't half bad."

Sharon rotated her arms to test her condition. Satisfied she had regained combat capability, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, gazing at the ceiling as she reviewed what had just occurred.

"That man... there's no way he's ordinary."

Recalling the seemingly naive, student-like officer she had encountered back at the villa, Sharon couldn't help but feel both bitter and alarmed. Despite appearing inexperienced, the man had demonstrated skills and insight that were far from normal.

"Someone who's never encountered demonic script before shouldn't be able to use it so fluently. And that insane predictive ability—"

She went over the battle in her mind again. It wasn't just his instinctive grasp of demonic incantations that unnerved her. When she had activated her Eye of the Mists, the man had immediately opened fire in the direction of his allies, driving them out of its effective range. That wasn't something one could do without prior knowledge.

She was sure no information on the Eye's capabilities had been leaked. So how had he known its limitations?

Even earlier, inside the villa—when he had initially headed toward the living room—he'd suddenly turned back toward the entryway, going straight to the shoe cabinet and unearthing a hidden demonic script. That sort of move wasn't just uncanny—it bordered on precognitive.

"It's as if he could see the future..."

Could he be a sorcerer with future-sight? It was hard to believe, but based on everything that had transpired, that seemed the most likely explanation.

"A power that almost completely negates ambushes... Tch."

Sharon ground her teeth in frustration. A simple retrieval mission for an Abyssal artifact had turned into a complete disaster. Not only had she lost her most powerful defensive Abyssal tool, but she also likely had a metaphorical time bomb lurking inside her soul—planted by that man's cursed chant.

Under such circumstances, not wanting to kill him would be the real surprise.

But the biggest issue was that if he truly could predict the future—even if just moments ahead—it made assassination nearly impossible.

Thinking about his ability naturally reminded Sharon of another figure who deeply disgusted her—Natsuki Minamiya, the infamous stench-ridden witch who dabbled in time and space manipulation.

"Time-based and space-based freaks are always the worst."

Still, in her mind, no one beat Natsuki in terms of sheer loathsomeness. After all, she was practically a poster girl for making deals with devils. If she weren't already notorious throughout the field, Sharon would have suspected she was a high-ranking member of the True Celestial Astronomy.

Beep—!

Sharon's eyes shifted to a nearby custom-model phone, which had just buzzed.

Without hesitation, she picked it up and checked the message. It was short, but its contents made her pupils narrow instantly.

[SDS is mobilizing. Retreat immediately!]

"SDS? That newly established department from Japan?"

The moment she saw the name of the team, Sharon's face changed drastically. "Damn it!!"

She began rapidly packing up all her tools and used potions, erasing any remaining traces of her presence with a neutralizing agent. Then she changed into a customized, bulletproof nun's outfit stored on-site, fixed her headscarf in place, and retrieved a 9mm micro-submachine gun and three loaded magazines from the adjacent room.

Once fully geared up, she pressed her ear to the wall, using her enhanced hearing to sense the faint tremors of approaching movement.

"Stairwell—15 men... a Special Operations Team squad?"

She instantly realized she was surrounded and clenched her teeth.

"Of course it's those goddamn attack dogs."

She should've known—only someone insane would send just two people to retrieve an Abyssal artifact, and one of them was a young sorcerer with abnormal abilities. That kind of reckless deployment only made sense for a specialized national unit tasked with Abyssal artifact management.

Only expert handlers of Abyssal threats dared operate with so few people.

As a member of the secretive Demon Hunters organization, Sharon rarely clashed with official units like the SDS. The reason was simple: these official groups were infamous for their rabid retaliation. If they suffered losses to an Abyssal phenomenon, it was tolerable. But if they confirmed it was human-caused—if even one agent died—it was a declaration of war against the entire department.

And such departments never lacked access to terrifying Abyssal tools of their own.

To provoke one meant facing a relentless onslaught of state-backed weapons and cursed objects.

"But... something's off. I'm the one who got screwed here, aren't I?"

Despite having taken a huge loss, SDS was now mobilizing against her. That didn't make sense.

Suddenly, a terrifying possibility dawned on Sharon—one she had overlooked.

"Don't tell me... that man lied to his department?"

Under normal protocol, after engaging her, the man would have reported everything—including the Level 3 Abyssal artifact Sanctified Shroud, the demonic spell, and the Level 2 artifact Eye of the Mists. But if he'd done so honestly, those items would've been seized and logged by the organization.

So, if he hadn't reported it accurately—if he'd fabricated a story to keep the artifacts for himself...

And most crucially—when he had used the demonic chant on her, forcibly taking control of her body—there was something seriously wrong with that.

It was common knowledge that anything related to demons—be it technology or artifacts—fell under the purview of the True Celestial Astronomy.

Putting it all together, Sharon suddenly had a terrifying realization.

That man... could he be an undercover agent from the True Celestial Astronomy embedded inside SDS?

Had he falsified his report and was now using SDS's full force to kill her and erase all evidence?

In that moment, Sharon felt like the veil of confusion had lifted and the truth lay bare before her eyes.

"That bastard!!"

She had never taken such a devastating loss in her career—and she was practically fuming with rage.

But perhaps the most tragic thing was, even if she tried to report the truth to SDS, they'd see her claims as lies—an attempt to mislead them.

"You bastard... I won't forget this."

Gritting her teeth, Sharon grabbed her weapon, stashed the remaining potions into her habit, and prepared to break out.

Revenge could come later. Right now, her only priority was escaping the encirclement—and surviving.