The Tokyo Colony, Block 4.
What was once a bustling commercial district had been reduced to a quiet, suffocating cage. The Culling Game barrier loomed overhead, casting a perpetual gloom over the streets, but inside the "Aeon Mall," a different kind of darkness had taken root.
Daigo Koga, a Modern Sorcerer awakened by Kenjaku, sat sprawled across a grotesque assemblage of velvet cushions and stolen mannequins. He called it a throne. To the hundred or so shivering souls huddled on the linoleum floor below, it was an altar of judgment.
Daigo didn't need to shout to be heard. The air around him was heavy—literally. His Cursed Technique, [Heavy Anchor], allowed him to manipulate the mass of anything he touched. A single tap from his finger could make a plastic cup weigh as much as a wrecking ball.
To his left, the corpse of a young man lay slumped against a vending machine. His neck was twisted at an impossible angle, his head lying flat on the floor as if gravity had decided to crush only his skull. It served as a silent, brutal reminder of what happened when the King was displeased.
Daigo yawned, scratching his stomach. "I'm bored."
The reaction was immediate. The huddled mass of non-sorcerers flinched in unison. Men, with eyes hollowed by days of starvation, stood up and mechanically marched to the far wall. They turned their backs, pressing their foreheads against the cold drywall, squeezing their eyes shut. They knew the rules. To look was to die.
From the back room, a group of women emerged. They walked with trembling legs, clutching their arms across their chests. They were dressed in a humiliating array of stolen lingerie and swimwear, tags still hanging from the fabric. Tears streamed down their faces, but not a single one dared to sob aloud.
Daigo grinned, leaning forward, the structure of his makeshift throne creaking under his shifting weight.
King: "Dance."
It was a pathetic, jerky rhythm. The women moved not to music, but to the frantic beating of their own hearts. Daigo watched, his grin widening, feeding on the absolute control he exerted over this small, plastic kingdom.
King: "This is the life I envision. Food, women, and relaxation. Once I win this game, I will live as an Emperor! I'll even enjoy a fulfilled life full of sexy, skinny, and curvy ladies!"
The grandiose proclamation echoed through the atrium. Daigo closed his eyes for a second, savoring the fantasy.
Shin: "That's one hell of a dream. Personally, I prefer my lady with a bit of muscle."
The voice didn't come from the entrance. It didn't come from the crowd. It came from right beside Daigo's ear.
King: "A woman with a muscle is a woman unworthy."
Daigo replied instinctively, his ego too inflated to register the anomaly. Then, the gears in his brain caught.
Shin: "Hard disagreed."
King: "So what? It's my li- What!?"
Daigo jolted to the side, scrambling off his cushions. He spun around, his cursed energy flaring up in a defensive aura.
There, leaning casually against the armrest of the throne Daigo had just vacated, was a young man in a tattered Jujutsu High uniform. He was inspecting his fingernails, looking utterly bored.
King: "Who the hell are you!"
Daigo's eyes darted around. His sensory perception—usually sharp enough to detect a fly entering the mall—was giving him nothing. To his Cursed Energy sense, the throne was empty. His eyes told him a man was standing there, but his instincts screamed that he was looking at a ghost.
Shin looked up, glancing at the crowd of women who had frozen in shock. He offered them a polite, apologetic shrug.
Shin: "I'll be blunt, your dream sucks dude."
Daigo didn't wait. He lunged.
His right fist, wreathed in blue cursed energy, aimed straight for Shin's temple. Daigo activated [Heavy Anchor] on impact; his fist carried the mass of a freight train.
Crack.
The punch connected with the throne's backrest. The metal frame crumpled instantly, and the floor beneath the throne shattered, debris exploding outward under the sudden, immense weight.
But Shin wasn't there.
Daigo stumbled, off-balance from the missed strike. He scanned the room frantically.
Shin: "Behind you."
Daigo spun, throwing a backhand strike with enough force to decapitate a bear. His fist tore through the air, creating a vacuum sound.
Nothing. Just air.
King: "Where?! Show yourself, coward!"
For the first time since the Culling Game began, the King felt the cold grip of fear. He couldn't track him. There was no spark of energy before a move, no residual trail, no presence.
Shin: "Look this way."
Daigo snapped his head to the right.
A sole of a shoe filled his vision.
Thwack.
Shin's kick planted squarely into Daigo's face. There was no curse-energy behind it, just raw, unadulterated kinetic force. Daigo was launched airborne, flying across the atrium like a ragdoll. He smashed through a glass display case of a jewelry store, skidding to a halt in a pile of shattered glass and fake diamonds.
Shin landed softly on the floor. He didn't even look at Daigo. He turned to the hostages.
Shin: "Hey, could all of you guys give us a moment?"
It took a split second for the command to register. Then, the stampede began. The men pulled the women, the women grabbed the children from the back room, and the mall emptied in a chaotic flood of relief.
Daigo groaned, pushing himself up. Blood poured from his nose. His eyes were wide, manic with rage and confusion. He looked at the center of the room.
Shin bounced slightly on the cushion, testing it.
Shin: "This homemade throne isn't so bad, but it does kinda smell. Like sweat and desperation."
The sight snapped something in Daigo's mind.
King: "GET OFF! THAT IS MINE! THEY ARE MINE!"
Daigo roared, charging forward. He touched the floor, making the tiles heavy, ripping them up to use as projectiles. He turned the mall into a disaster zone, swinging wildly, destroying his own kingdom in a desperate attempt to hit the ghost sitting on his throne.
Shin simply… moved. He didn't dodge with panic; he humiliated him. He stepped sideways as Daigo's fist pulverized the throne. He leaned casually against a pillar while Daigo gasped for air.
To Daigo, it was like trying to fight smoke with a hammer.
Five minutes later, the silence returned.
The mall was in ruins. Daigo stood in the center of the wreckage, his chest heaving, his lungs burning. He fell to one knee, saliva dripping from his mouth. He had exhausted his cursed energy reserves swinging at nothing.
King: "Why… can't… I… hit… you…"
Shin walked up behind him. He looked down at the tyrant, holding the Playful Cloud loosely in his right hand. His eyes were cold, devoid of the earlier humor.
Shin: "Because you're not a King. You're just a rapist with a gimmick."
Shin raised the staff. Daigo tried to turn, terror flooding his eyes, but Shin was faster.
Shin: "I could kill you. It would be easy. But then you wouldn't learn anything."
Shin didn't aim for the head. He aimed lower. With surgical cruelty, he brought the staff down hard on the cervical spine—C4 and C5.
CRUNCH.
It wasn't a clean break intended to kill. It was a shatter intended to disconnect.
Daigo collapsed face-first into the debris. He tried to push himself up, but his arms didn't move. He tried to scream, but his chest barely rose. He was a prisoner in his own skull, fully conscious, able to feel the pain, but unable to twitch a finger.
Shin crouched down next to Daigo's face, whispering into his ear.
Shin: "I severed the connection. You'll live. But you'll never touch anyone again. You'll just lie here, in your own filth, until the Culling Game ends or until one of your 'subjects' comes back to find you."
Shin stood up and walked away, leaving Daigo staring wide-eyed at the dust on the floor, weeping in silent, frozen horror.
Maki: "Shin?"
Shin stopped. He didn't flinch. He turned around slowly.
Standing near the shattered entrance was Maki Zenin. Short hair. Burn scars ravaging her face. Dragon-Bone sword on her shoulder. And an aura just as empty as his.
Shin: "Maki? You look… different."
Maki walked over the glass shards, ignoring the paralyzed man gasping on the floor. She scanned Shin, noting the lack of cursed energy.
Maki: "So do you. I didn't sense you at all. I only walked in because I heard the commotion."
Shin: "I made a Binding Vow. Gave up something important. I'm a ghost now."
He gestured vaguely to the man he had just crippled.
Shin: "Just taking out the trash. What about you?"
Maki smirked, a dangerous expression that matched her scars.
Maki: "Same. I just finished dealing with the Zenin clan."
The two monsters stood amidst the ruins, understanding perfectly that they were the only ones left who played by the same rules.