The name of the emerging religious group was known as the Life Enjoyment Association.
The patriarch is only a seventeen-year-old girl, whose name is Kumi Hangato.
"Can you really do what you do to change your personality? Even if you can, it's a lot of trouble, isn't it? How many people have succeeded in changing their personality properly in their lifetime..."
In the Japanese-room, Kumi chins over the tablecloth and squeaks with an annoying face. The figure has no majesty or flattery as a patriarch and is very much invisible to believers other than executives and ancient shrines.
"Isn't that less of a guy who hasn't changed at all? Rather than being forced to change, while I'm alive... I go through a lot and change just a little bit."
said the little fat middle-aged man with the eyes of a ship sitting in the front of Kumi. His name is Dermouth Sabbath, and he is a lifelong executive.
"Huh? Kind of unbelievable......"
Kumi looks at her breasts with a surprise voice. It wasn't actually a bit of a place, I couldn't believe it at all. But due to the difference in age, Kumi accepts with reason that the world she sees is different from herself, and that what Sa Chest says is more correct.
"Kumi, is something bothering you?
Kaihe Kenzo, a boy executive two years younger than Kumi, sitting next to Kumi, asks.
"One of the faithful told me. It doesn't look like a patriarch. He said it was too open. The problem with behavior is that it's coming from your personality, so change it to the contents."
"I'm a believer, but I say that much to the Patriarch..."
Hear Kumi's words, heartbreaking Shinzo.
"I'm here now and then. I don't care if my position is against the person above me, the type that I don't feel right about."
says a mid twenties woman whose makeup is a little flashy. She is also an executive. Her name is Anna Mezuka.
"Or maybe a crossing of emerging religions"
Three other people throw a gaze of doubt at Sa Chest's words.
"Literally. There's a guy like Emerging Religion Mania, who's crossing emerging religions. Or maybe I'm just trying to get in a lot and try not to be right for me."
"Some people like that..."
Listening to Sa Chest, Kumi remembered her surprise and shudderness at the same time.
"If someone is being too rude, we executives need to be very careful. Tell me your name."
"Hey... if that happens again, please, but this time, well... seriously"
"Excuse me, I'm here to see Kumi..."
Ancient Ginseng member executives come and speak up.
"When I say Arlaune Lupa, I say yes."
Out of the mouth of the executives who came to report, in the name of Arlaune, the expression of the four people who were in the Japanese-strong room.
"Don't let that pass by just Arlaune. Let me through."
Kumi's tone and atmosphere change dramatically. His consciousness shifted from Kumi to the parasitic Arlaune.
"Shall we take our seats off?
"It would help if you did that"
To the care of Sa Chest, let Kumi smile a completely different smile, Arlaune Kumi. Lacking girliness, it entailed an excessive amount of air, and the expression and tricks also gave the impression of being more like an adult man than a woman.
Three people left the room, and eventually, in the room with Kumi, a boy visited.
Age ranges from thirteen to fifteen. He was a white boy with squeaky dark blonde hair and watery eyes.
(There is no resonance between Arlaune. I came all the way here to hide... something. Before that, I don't use the phone or SNS, but I would like to meet and talk in person, so I guess it's quite an important story)
Looking at the boy who would be the host of Arlaune, Kumi thinks.
"Are you used to living here?
"You're a bummer. This is my second host. When the host changes, so does the circle of life and freshness."
When Kumi speaks, the boy - Arlaune Lupa - smiles and answers. This smile is also a substitute for age-appropriate boys.
"So, what can I do for you?
Kumi had an interaction with several Arlaunes who moved here from the planet Glass Due.
"You know Cornelis Van Damme's paranormal management plan is going to start in earnest, right? Thanks to his achievements in crusading Leviathan, his endorsements have increased dramatically, and 'Grim Penis' is said to be saddled with a paranormal management group rather than an environmental protection group"
"You're telling me you'll manage Arlaune, too?
Well-researched Arlaune Kumi just listens to the story and thinks of the conclusion.
"Your presence has been found out by Grimm's penis. Your planting copies all over the faithful, what kind of creature Arlaune is, and what you fall under. They're all falling apart on grimm penises."
But the fact that Arlaune Lupa told was the worst substitute Kumi could have imagined.
"Junko, Milk, and Misaki are relative patterns to Grim Penis. No, even if they don't, there's no way the Junkos would do such an unfair imitation... Where'd you find out?
"It's from among us."
Kumi is further shocked by Lupa's answer.
"There's a pair of Arlaunes from Glass Dew who are avoided within their crew. Even if the same Al-Rawneh was murdered without shelter in front of them, it's like they're flat. On the contrary, there are even rumors that he ran away with it. They went under the umbrella of Grimm Penis, in tune with Van Dam's ideas. We are willing to spare no effort in offering our abilities and reward them in human society. It was pretty dangerous, but I've been checking."
If you want to use your abilities to rise in the world of people, Kumi is not the one to be followed because it is something you are also doing. However, Kumi wonders what it would be like to give Van Damme, who has declared the supernatural capable and out-of-the-way administrator at will.
"I'll just tell you my name. Arlaune Ghimu and Arlaune Riehydar. Both are crooks. You should never recognize me as one of them."
Without having to tell Lupa, Kumi is only going to recognize him as an enemy when he spreads his information to Grimm Penis on his own.
Siegmund Richter went to work that day.
One of the miscellaneous buildings on the corner of Excellent Town, Amusement City. The office upstairs was where he worked.
The backstreet organization includes a middle-class backyard organization, and the office of the Sputum Kettle Support Group. Another face of popularity in the mall was the backstreet doorman.
The sputum pot support group specializes in rough things among the end-of-life shops, and the job is never easy, and the danger is high compared to other backstreet jobs. But the irritation is also strong for that matter.
"Isn't that unusual, Mr. Richter? The boss didn't even call you, so what do you want?
A young constituent speaks out in a disgusting tone to Richter, who showed up at the office.
The other constituents are looking at Richter with a stabbing gaze. No one is welcome.
"There's nothing in the job. If you're free, play the guitar and smile."
older constituents show an even more blatantly unpleasant attitude.
Richter was the number one strength among sputum kettle support groups, but he was neglected by those in the organization. Because he behaved plainly at will, after being favoured by the boss because of his accomplishments.
I've even abandoned my people's crisis while not trying to tame other constituents besides the boss. I don't try to join the work from now on. Only the more challenging job of really needing yourself, in the form of taking a leg if the boss calls you. Then the salary is next to the boss's. I can't help but hate you for this.
"Actually, I thought I'd let you wash your legs today."
Richter laughs with a smile and mouths a non-listening dialogue.
If it's other backstreet tissue, it won't show resistance to exiting tissue, but phlegm pot support groups are old temperamental backstreet tissue. Close to old yakuza and gangs in other countries. I said I'd quit, and yes it does, but it doesn't go through. Besides, if you're ever a scattered, free-for-all Richter, it's unnecessarily hard to admit.
"And one more thing. I wanted a handkerchief that I could handle freely, and instead of retirement, I thought I'd get you all."
Richter's words change the complexion of his constituents.
Richter puts his hand in front of his face. Then from his hand, countless things like an oval seed, about half the size of his hand, glowing green erupted, and he thought he had swirled through the ceiling rinse, and the member looking up flew in at high speed.
Some of them took a direct hit of a glowing species without letting it at all, while others avoided the first blow, but after the large number of species, they turn again even once, so they all end up seeded by them.
The seed breaks through the skin and flesh and enters the body. The constituents stop moving and their eyes go crazy. A green tube floats further forward. It's like a green blood vessel.
"Around"
When Richter speaks, they all turn around on the spot, twirling, like disinterested dolls or zombies.
"Penis."
Everyone, stop turning in response to Richter's voice and let Chuck down.
"No, it's not that way, it's that dog"
All, chuck up according to Richter's voice and let him pose for the dog's penis.
"It's my first time, but you've done well. This is incredible."
When Richter was impressed and satisfied with his power...
"Richter!? And you guys! What's this all about!?
There the boss of the organization appears, calling out aloud.
"Only the boss has been nice to me. Will I miss it?"
Richter turns to the boss and says, spreading a nostalgic grin on his righteous face. Seeing that face, listening to that dialogue, the boss understood that it was Richter's fault that his men were going crazy.
"I knew there was none. Don't miss it."
Richter said, releasing a green glowing seed from his palm with his boss.
"The boss in question is also a resident of the back street. And he was doing a terribly violent job."
Richter utters a shady voice as she loses herself and sees a boss with a green pulse floating all over her body.
At the age of eleven, Siegmund Richter became fiercely hateful of all the backing operations in the world since the loss of his family in the wake of the gang's protests.
I continued my revenge by repeatedly killing the gang, of which I traveled to Japan and entered the 'Luciferin Dust', an anti-backstreet organization, but the activity of that organization was not sexually compatible with me right now and stopped in about two years.
One day, Richter noticed. He said that the reward for life for him was the killing itself. I admitted that I was caught in the charm of murder. When he kills those who have fallen into the backyard, he is drunk with the justice of vengeance and filled with a sense of achievement that cannot be gained.
After realizing that, Richter himself had no resistance whatsoever to corrupt the backstreet organization. I chose an organization called the Sputum Kettle Support Group to go in because it specializes in rough things but therefore has a lot of opportunities for Don Patch. That is, because there are many opportunities to kill residents of the same back street.
Satisfy the living reward of vengeance, earn money, and get pleasure. It's a really happy life.
But now I've destroyed that happy environment myself.
Being in the same place is boring. I can't live in peace. Richter has seen further stages.
"Ljehidhar, is there anything missing from this number?
Richter looks over at his former colleagues who turned him into a puppet and speaks to someone.
(To gauge the power of the opponent, it's a pawn to try. number would be sufficient)
"Roger, Yavor, Ljehidar. Then hurry up and go with Kyo Makai."
Nodding at the sounding voice from within, Richter walks a few steps to leave the office, stops, and looks back.
"But don't let this look of them stand out too much. Arrange a haulier."
Imagining the green pulse and the sight of all the men with lost and frightened faces walking, Richter laughed bitterly.