As I mentioned in my synopsis, I'm writing this purely for fun, so updates won't be regular. I'd love to hear your suggestions for plots you'd like to see incorporated!
...
Gary stood there catching his breath, still grinning like a fool, when movement around him pulled his attention back to reality.
More eggs were cracking open. A lot more.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The sound of eggshells being devoured echoed across the volcanic sand like the world's most disturbing breakfast cereal commercial.
"Guess I already went through that part," Gary muttered, glancing at his own destroyed eggshell scattered around his feet. "I wonder if they're getting their demon names right now, too. Hopefully, theirs aren't as stupid as mine."
But then something shifted in the atmosphere. Gary felt it before he saw it.
The demons finishing their shells weren't just sitting around recovering. They were looking around. Searching. Their eyes were hungry.
"Sigh, I guess it's time..." Gary said quietly, his grin fading.
He knew what came next. He'd read this part of the novel. Hell, he'd wished for this universe, knowing full well what kind of brutal survival mechanics it operated on.
But reading about demon infanticide and actually watching it happen were two very different things.
His eyes locked onto one demon in particular.
A four-eyed, blood-red skinned motherfucker about twenty meters to his left.
The thing was bigger than Gary, more muscular, with four eyes arranged in a diamond pattern on its forehead. Each pupil was horizontal, like a goat, and they moved independently, scanning the beach. It had a short tail, sharp claws on both hands, and a mouth full of teeth that would make Pennywise jealous.
"Oh shit," Gary whispered, feeling a laugh bubble up despite himself. "It's actually happening. The exact scene from the original novel is playing out right in front of me."
The four-eyed demon finished its shell, licked its lips, and stood up. But instead of resting or exploring like a normal newborn might, it immediately started looking around.
Gary leaned against a nearby rock, crossing his arms. "Now this will be entertaining. Maybe I should start a demon cinematic company, show people how stupid these demons are. 'Welcome to Abyss Entertainment, where we document the dumbest motherfuckers in Hell.' Hahaha."
He was laughing, but his eyes stayed vigilant, tracking every movement.
The four-eyed demon spotted what it wanted. A cooled chunk of volcanic rock, about the size of a football, black and jagged. It picked the rock up with both hands, testing its weight, and then started walking.
Toward an egg that hadn't hatched yet.
"There it is," Gary muttered. "Can't even wait five minutes before committing murder. These demons really don't waste time, do they?"
But Gary knew it wasn't just hunger driving this thing. The inherited memories every demon received from their shells included instincts. Survival strategies. And the number one strategy in the Abyss was simple: kill or be killed. Get stronger or die trying.
The four-eyed demon's intentions went deeper than just finding food. It was looking for souls.
And unhatched demons were easy targets.
"Come on... come on! Let me see what a soul looks like already, you four-eyed fucker, kill the damn thing!" Gary whined under his breath, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Sure, he'd seen his own soul when he dove into his soul space to check out the Origin Artifact. But that was internal, more of a weird metaphysical space where normal rules didn't apply. He wanted to see what souls looked like in the actual physical world. How did they manifest? Were they round? Humanoid? Some kind of eldritch bullshit?
The four-eyed demon reached its target egg. Dark purple shell, medium-sized, half-buried in the sand near the waterline where the volcanic ash was still damp.
It raised the rock high above its head.
Then, it brought it down like a sledgehammer.
CRACK!
The sound cut through the ambient noise of waves and distant hatchings. The eggshell spiderwebbed with fractures, but didn't break completely.
The four-eyed demon grunted, annoyed, and raised the rock again.
CRACK!
This time, pieces of shell broke off. Clear fluid started leaking out, mixing with the black sand.
"Jesus, this thing's persistent," Gary said, watching intently.
The demon inside the egg must have sensed what was happening because Gary could see movement through the cracks. Something squirming, trying to push its way out, its survival instinct kicking in too late.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The four-eyed demon went into a frenzy, smashing the rock down again and again, widening the hole, tearing the shell apart. Fluid gushed out, and with it came the occupant.
An imp. It was small, perhaps half the size of the four-eyed demon. It had dark grey skin and tiny wings that hadn't unfurled yet. Its eyes were barely open and its body was still slick with amniotic fluid.
It tried to crawl away, limbs flailing weakly, letting out this high-pitched keening sound that honestly made Gary wince a little.
"Shit, that's dark," he muttered.
The four-eyed demon's eyes, all four of them, glinted with something predatory. Hunger. It raised the rock one more time.
The imp demon looked up, seeing its death coming, and tried to shield itself with its tiny arms.
Didn't matter.
The rock came down like a judge's gavel.
CRUNCH.
The imp's keening cut off mid-sound. Its body twitched once, twice, then went still. Purple blood pooled around the crushed shell, soaking into the volcanic sand.
Gary watched, his expression neutral despite the brutality. This was the reality of the Abyss. No safety nets. No adults to protect the kids. Just raw, bloody survival from the moment you hatched.
"And I thought New Jersey was rough," he said quietly.
The four-eyed demon tossed the rock aside and stared down at its kill, breathing heavy, waiting.
Gary leaned forward, not wanting to miss this.
Then it happened.
From the imp's broken body, something emerged.
It started as a faint glow beneath the purple blood, like someone had turned on a light inside the corpse. The glow intensified, pushing through flesh and bone, rising upward.
And then the soul manifested.
Gary's breath caught.
It was beautiful in the most unsettling way possible.
The soul looked like a small, spectral figure, maybe a foot tall, shaped vaguely like the imp demon but translucent and glowing. Its color was dark, a deep charcoal gray that pulsed with inner light, like embers in a dying fire. The edges wavered and flickered, never quite solid, always shifting.
It had a face. Crude, simplified, but recognizable. Two hollow eyes, a gaping mouth frozen in either a scream or a yawn, hard to tell.
The whole thing floated up from the corpse, rising slowly like a balloon someone had let go of.
"Whoa!" Gary exclaimed, unable to contain himself. "It kind of looks like Dimple from Mob Psycho, just darker in color and way scarier looking. But that's actually sick."
The soul drifted upward, picking up speed, clearly trying to escape.
But the four-eyed demon was faster.
Its hand shot out, claws wrapping around the soul, catching it mid-flight. The soul squirmed in its grip, but it was like trying to hold onto smoke, it couldn't fight back, couldn't resist.
The four-eyed demon grinned, all those sharp teeth on full display, and opened its mouth wide.
Then it shoved the entire soul inside and swallowed.
What happened next made Gary's eyes go wide.
The four-eyed demon's body went rigid. Its eyes, all four of them, rolled back in its head. It started shaking, trembling like it had stuck its finger in an electrical socket. But this wasn't pain.
This was pleasure.
The demon's mouth hung open, drool running down its chin. Its claws flexed spasmodically. Every muscle in its body tensed and relaxed in waves, and a low moan escaped its throat.
"Holy fuck, it's like watching one of those actors I've seen on TV shoot up cocaine," Gary said, morbidly fascinated. "That's the Soul Devouring Addiction. That's what it looks like."
The four-eyed demon was on cloud nine, completely lost in whatever ecstasy came from devouring a soul. Its body shivered and convulsed for a good ten seconds before the sensation started fading.
When it finally came down from the high, the demon's eyes refocused. But they weren't normal. They were wild. Frantic. Desperate.
The demon looked around frantically, searching for more eggs, more souls, more of that feeling.
"Yep," Gary said. "Addicted. One hit and it's already jonesing for the next fix. Thank me and my genius brain, being Involate cleaned that shit out of my system."
But Gary's observation was cut short by what happened next.
Around the beach, other demons who'd finished eating their shells had been watching. They'd seen the four-eyed demon kill the imp. Seen the soul emerge. Seen the ecstasy that followed.
And they wanted it.
All of them.
At the same time.
Pandemonium broke loose.
Dozens of demons, maybe hundreds across the entire beach, suddenly rushed toward the unhatched eggs. The ones closest to the water, where the cooler sand meant slower incubation, became instant targets.
Gary watched as a centipede-looking demon wrapped itself around an egg and started crushing it like a python. A humanoid with six arms grabbed a rock and started beating an egg with all its limbs. The thing from earlier that looked like a floating mass of flesh just... absorbed an egg whole, shell and all, and a moment later spat out a crushed demon corpse to harvest its soul.
The sounds were horrific. Cracking shells. Screaming demons that weren't even fully born yet. The wet smack of rocks against flesh. And underneath it all, the desperate chittering and roaring of demons high on soul-lust.
"This is fucked," Gary said, watching the slaughter. "This is so fucked."
But he didn't look away.
Because this was his reality now. This was the world he'd chosen. And if he wanted to survive and thrive, he needed to understand exactly how brutal it could get.
A demon hatched nearby, some kind of reptilian-looking thing, immediately got jumped by three others before it could even finish eating its shell. They tore it apart, fighting over its soul like dogs over a bone.
Another demon, this one with wings, flew up with an egg in its claws, dropped it from a height, and dove down to harvest the soul from the splattered corpse.
Everywhere Gary looked, it was the same story. Kill. Harvest. Devour. Repeat.
"Survival of the fittest," Gary muttered. "Ancient laws, huh? More like Ancient Battle Royale."
He glanced down at his own hands, at the red skin and black claws.
Gary smiled. "Fuck yeah! I'm going to make these unruly motherfuckers my bitches!"
....
Although he was stronger than Roy, who, by the way, was premature and had received his wish, it would take time for his body to reach adulthood, which would most likely happen once he had altered his appearance.
Gary stealthily moved away from the main area of chaos, heading inland. His short legs carried him across the volcanic sand while screams and the sound of eggs being crushed echoed behind him. He diverted some of his attention to summon his Origin Artifact.
It manifested on his right hand as a black skull ring, exactly as he had imagined it. The skull's eye sockets had a faint purple glow, and it felt warm against his skin, seemingly alive.
More specifically, though, he had summoned it to use its Competence function.
He needed the ability to fight. Like right fucking now! Do you see the danger he was in?!!!
He wished he had been born in this world so that he could live life on his own terms, rather than being killed on his first day on the job.
But here's where things got complicated: he hadn't thought about what he wanted to learn. It's one thing to wish for talent and quite another to consider how to develop it.
When you were a kid, you watched all kinds of cartoons and anime. You might have said it would be cool to be able to perform the Rasenshuriken or to have an Ultralink that lets you say, "Go Turbo, Strength!"
But then you find yourself in a situation where all of those options become available to you. You don't know which to choose, and you're already in danger of being killed by demons addicted to souls.
Indecision was a scary motherfucker.
Although Gary could theoretically learn anything, he couldn't use everything to its full potential. Despite having the infinite energy granted to him by his Origin Artifact, there were limits to how much he could channel. It was like having an endless supply of water, but only being able to release it through a tap instead of an industrial pipe through which large quantities could flow.
Otherwise, releasing such huge amounts of energy would kill him. At least physically.
"Mhmm, well shit," Gary muttered, scratching his head with his non-ringed hand. "I don't have enough time to learn magic. I'm sure something like that isn't going to happen overnight. I need something physical... but what?"
Gary racked his brains, trying to think of an ability that could help him survive this situation. Magic wasn't an option, as he didn't have enough time to create or learn a spell.
Then it hit him.
"Wait a minute! I remember watching this anime a while back. What's its name again? Ahh, 'Fist of the North Star!' The martial arts used in that anime were overpowered as hell. Can't remember the plot, but I do remember the two most broken martial arts in it: Nanto Seiken and Hokuto Shinken."
Gary looked down at his claws, flexing his fingers.
"But what I really want is Nanto Seiken. I remember Shin, the user of that style, slicing and dicing gringos everywhere with just his hands. And since I have claws..." Gary grinned. "I think I can make good use of it."
He stopped walking and held up the black skull ring.
"Alright, Origin Artifact. Let's see what you can do."
[Subject: Nanto Seiken (Fist of the North Star)]
[Modifier: None]
[Loading materials... Collecting data... Cross-referencing... Developing optimized pathways... Preparing for basic memory integration...]
After Gary finished inputting what he wanted to learn into the Artifact, the ring started glowing. A faint purple light radiated from the skull's eye sockets, and an invisible pressure washed over him that only he could feel.
Then the memories hit.
"Oh fuck—"
It wasn't painful, but it was intense. Like someone opened a tap directly into his brain and started pouring information through it.
Gary stumbled, catching himself against a nearby rock as knowledge flooded his mind.
The history came first, washing over him in waves.
Nanto Seiken. The South Star Sacred Fist. One of the two legendary assassination arts that had existed for over 2,000 years, passed down through generations of masters who'd refined it into the ultimate external martial art.
Where its counterpart, Hokuto Shinken, destroyed enemies from within by striking pressure points and making bodies explode, Nanto Seiken took the opposite approach: external destruction through precision cutting techniques.
The philosophy was simple but brutal: elegance in carnage, beauty in destruction. A true master of Nanto Seiken didn't need weapons. Their bodies were the weapon, their hands and feet transformed into blades sharper than any steel through years of hard work and conditioning, plus the channeling of Touki's fighting spirit energy.
Gary saw flashes of the ancient masters who'd created and refined the style. Warriors who'd spent lifetimes perfecting the art of slicing through human flesh and bone with nothing but their bare hands. Men and women who'd developed techniques so precise they could separate a person's body into dozens of pieces with a single motion, so fast the victim wouldn't even realize they were dead until their body fell apart.
The style had fragmented over the centuries into 108 different schools, each one developing unique techniques and philosophies. But six schools stood above the rest, the pinnacle of Nanto Seiken's evolution.
The Nanto Roku Seiken. The Six Sacred Fists of Nanto.
Gary's mind filled with images of their practitioners:
Shin of Nanto Koshu Ken (South Star Lone Eagle Fist), the martial art of the tyrant. A style built around overwhelming offense and aerial superiority, turning the user's hands into eagle talons that could slice through anything. Shin could bisect enemies with single strikes, his techniques focusing on speed and precision to end fights instantly.
Rei of Nanto Suicho Ken (South Star Waterfowl Fist), the graceful death. A style that emphasized flowing, acrobatic movements combined with devastating cutting attacks. Rei moved like water, his strikes coming from impossible angles, slicing enemies apart before they could even perceive the attack. His signature technique could reduce a human body to ribbons in seconds.
Yuda of Nanto Kokaku Ken (South Star Red Crane Fist), the style of vanity and beauty. A deceptive martial art that used flowing, dance-like movements to disguise lethal cutting techniques. Yuda's attacks were designed to destroy an opponent's beauty, carving them up while maintaining perfect form himself.
Shu of Nanto Hakuro Ken (South Star White Heron Fist), the art of benevolence. A defensive style that used precise cutting techniques to protect rather than destroy, though it was no less lethal when needed. Shu could slice through attacks themselves, dismantling enemy techniques before they landed.
Souther of Nanto Ho-oh Ken (South Star Phoenix Fist), the ultimate Nanto style. The most powerful of the six, reserved for the one who ruled over Nanto. Souther's techniques combined overwhelming power with precision cutting, his strikes capable of bisecting multiple enemies in single motions while he moved with absolute confidence in his invincibility.
And finally, Yuria, who represented the Star of Mercy, though she practiced no combat style herself.
Each master's techniques flooded into Gary's mind. The way they moved, the angles they cut from, the philosophy behind each school's approach to combat.
But beyond the six sacred styles, Gary received knowledge of dozens of lesser Nanto schools. Each one specialized in different aspects of cutting, different weapons-turned-hand-techniques, different combat philosophies.
Then came the training methods.
Traditional Nanto Seiken training was brutal, designed to transform the human body into a living weapon over the course of decades.
Foundation Training:
Stance work to develop the leg strength and balance necessary for explosive cutting movements Hand conditioning through striking hard surfaces thousands of times daily until the fingers could pierce stone Flexibility training to achieve the acrobatic mobility many Nanto styles required Breath control to manage Touki circulation during combat
Intermediate Development:
Practicing cuts against increasingly resistant materials: paper, wood, bamboo, stone Speed training to execute multiple cuts in fractions of a second Precision exercises to strike specific points on moving targets Touki cultivation to channel fighting spirit into cutting power
Advanced Mastery:
Development of signature techniques unique to each practitioner Learning to perceive an opponent's "lines of death," the optimal cutting paths through their body Mastering the ability to slice through virtually any material by concentrating Touki at the point of contact Achieving the state of mushin (no-mind), where techniques flow without conscious thought
The knowledge settled into Gary's mind with a strange certainty: he wouldn't need to follow the traditional decades-long training path. The Competence function of his Origin Artifact would naturally refine his skills over time as long as Nanto Seiken remained in one of his subject slots. Every fight would polish his technique. Every movement would strengthen the neural pathways. The mastery would come, gradually but inevitably.
Still, actual practice would accelerate the process. His body needed to catch up to his mind.
Finally, the techniques themselves downloaded.
Gary's consciousness was flooded with hundreds of specific forms, each one a complete combat application:
Basic Techniques:
Gessai (Ripping Smash): A straight-fingered thrust that pierced through flesh and bone
Rekkyaku (Splitting Leg): A cutting kick that could sever limbs
Hiei Ken (Flying Shadow Fist): Multiple rapid cuts from different angles
Senshu Ken (Whirlwind Fist): A spinning attack that created a vortex of cutting strikes
Intermediate Forms:
Gantei Satsu (Cliff Split Kill): A downward strike that bisected opponents vertically
Dantei Koushou (Cliff Split Ascending Palm): An upward slash that lifted enemies into the air while cutting
Ryuugeki Ko (Dragon Strike Arc): A sweeping horizontal cut that could slice through multiple opponents
Hishō Hakurei (Flying White Grace): An aerial spinning technique that turned the user into a cutting tornado
Advanced Secrets:
Tensho Juji Ho (Heaven's Cross Phoenix): A cross-shaped cutting attack that quartered enemies
Sōryū Tensho (Twin Dragon Heaven Soar): Dual simultaneous strikes from opposite directions
Gokuto Ken (Prison Island Fist): A technique that sealed an opponent in a cage of cutting pressure
Tenshou Shō Rai Kyaku (Heaven-Soaring Phoenix Thunder Kick): The ultimate aerial assassination technique
And dozens more, each one perfectly preserved in Gary's memory as if he'd trained them for years.
Gary's hands moved without him thinking about it, his body trying to mirror the techniques being downloaded into his brain. His claws slashed through empty air in patterns he'd never practiced but somehow knew.
"Holy... shit..." Gary breathed, staring at his hands.
The glow from the ring faded. The pressure disappeared. And Gary was left standing there with a complete understanding of Nanto Seiken sitting in his head like it had always been there.
He knew the stances. The strikes. The philosophy. He could visualize exactly how Shin had moved when he destroyed his enemies, how Rei's blade-like hands had carved through flesh, how Souther had combined power and microscopic precision into unstoppable techniques.
"This is insane," Gary said, testing a few movements. His body shifted into a proper Nanto Seiken stance, weight distributed perfectly, claws positioned at the correct angles.
But even as he moved, reality kicked in.
He had the knowledge. Complete, perfect, master-level understanding of one of the most lethal martial arts ever created. But his body was still that of an infant demon. Small. Weak. His muscles hadn't developed the strength to execute the advanced techniques. His reflexes hadn't been honed through actual combat experience.
It was like having a master architect's blueprint for building a skyscraper but only having a kid's toy hammer to work with.
"Shit," Gary muttered, looking down at his tiny red arms. "I know how to do it, but my body can't keep up yet. I knew this would happen. I can probably manage the basic techniques, but anything advanced..." He shook his head. "I'd just hurt myself trying."
Still, even basic Nanto Seiken techniques were leagues above what the other newborn demons were capable of. And the Competence function meant he didn't need to spend decades training. The skill would grow naturally, refining itself with use.
Plus, Gary had one massive advantage the original Nanto Seiken masters never had: the Infinite Omniversal Energy from his Origin Artifact.
Traditional Nanto Seiken required practitioners to cultivate their Touki, their fighting spirit energy, through years of meditation and training. It took decades to build up enough Touki to execute the most powerful techniques.
Gary had infinite energy on tap.
Sure, his Low-Rank infant body could only channel a trickle of that infinite reservoir, like trying to drink from a fire hose through a coffee straw. But even a trickle of this energy was more than most practitioners could obtain in their lifetime.
Gary focused inward, sensing the IOE flowing through his body. He directed it to his right hand, coating his claws with energy the way Nanto Seiken masters coated their hands with Touki.
His claws began to glow faintly, a subtle shimmer running along the edges.
Gary slashed at the air experimentally.
Whistle.
The movement was sharper. Faster. His claws left a brief afterimage, and he felt the resistance of the air itself parting around his strike.
"Okay," Gary said, grinning despite the danger still echoing from the beach behind him. "Okay, this might actually work. I'm not gonna be pulling off any Tensho Juji Ho bullshit anytime soon, but basic cutting techniques? Yeah, I can do that."
A roar from behind made him spin around.
Three demons were approaching. They had seen him trying to sneak away from the main chaos. Seeing that he was alone, they thought, 'Easy prey'. Gary would have told them their brains were made of cow shit, but he doubted they would understand the meaning.
The one in front was the four-eyed demon from earlier, the one who'd killed the imp and gotten high off its soul. Blood still stained its claws. The other two were humanoid but larger, with gray skin and muscles that suggested they'd hatched from bigger eggs than Gary's.
The four-eyed demon grinned, showing all those teeth, and said something in a language Gary instinctively understood. Demon Language, apparently part of the inherited memories from the eggshell.
"Small one. You die. Your soul. MINE!"
Gary looked at the three of them, then down at his own tiny body. His claws were still faintly glowing with IOE.
"Yeah," he said quietly, dropping into a Nanto Seiken stance. "First of all, speak properly. Last of all, come take my soul if you want it so much fuck face."
...
Although the four-eyed demon didn't fully understand, he still seemed enraged by Gary's words. It charged.
Gary's eyes tracked the movement. The demon was fast for its size. Its four eyes locked onto him, claws extended, going straight for his throat.
But Gary could see it coming. The knowledge from Nanto Seiken showed him the demon's approach angle, the slight lean in its posture that telegraphed the strike.
Gary sidestepped.
The four-eyed demon's claws whistled past his face, missing by inches. Gary's body moved on instinct, muscle memory that wasn't his own guiding him into a counter-strike.
Gessai
His right hand thrust forward, fingers rigid, IOE coating his claws. He aimed for the demon's exposed ribs.
His claws connected, punching through skin and muscle.
The four-eyed demon screamed, stumbling back. Purple blood leaked from the wound, but it wasn't deep enough. Gary's small body didn't have the power to drive the strike home like a true Nanto Seiken master could.
"Fuck," Gary hissed. "Not strong enough."
The two gray-skinned demons flanked him, moving to surround him. They were smarter than the four-eyed one, coordinating their attack.
Gary's mind raced. Three on one. He couldn't overpower them at once. But he still held the advantage in technique and the fact that he could actually think instead of just running on instinct.
The demon on his left lunged, claws aimed at his back.
Gary spun, using Senshu Ken, the whirlwind fist technique. His body became a blur of motion, claws slashing in a circular pattern.
The gray demon pulled back, surprised by the sudden aggression, and Gary's claws caught it across the arm. Blood sprayed, and the demon roared in pain.
But Gary had turned his back on the other two.
The four-eyed demon tackled him from behind and drove him into the volcanic sand. The impact was hard, burning his chest, and suddenly he was pinned, crushed by the demon's weight.
"Small demon die!" the four-eyed demon snarled, raising its claws for a killing blow.
Gary's left hand shot up, catching the demon's wrist before it could strike. His right hand was trapped under his body and couldn't be used at the moment.
The demon pushed down, using its superior strength. Gary's arm trembled, starting to give way.
"Shit, shit, shit!"
Then Gary remembered something from the Nanto Seiken knowledge. You didn't always need your hands to cut.
Rekkyaku
Gary kicked upward with both legs, channeling IOE into the strike. His clawed feet caught the four-eyed demon in the stomach, and this time the angle was right.
His claws dug deep, tearing through flesh.
The four-eyed demon's eyes went wide. It released Gary's wrist, clutching at its torn stomach as purple blood poured out.
Gary scrambled out from under it, rolling to his feet just in time to see the second gray demon charging at him.
No time to dodge.
Gary dropped low, using the demon's momentum against it. As it passed over him, he slashed upward with Dantei Koushou, the ascending palm strike.
His claws raked across the demon's belly, opening it from groin to chest.
The demon crashed into the sand behind him, convulsing.
Two down. One left.
The first gray demon, the one he'd slashed on the arm, was circling him cautiously now. It had seen what Gary could do. Saw its companions bleeding out on the sand.
Gary stood in his Nanto Seiken stance, not even winded by the effort. His claws were dripping with purple blood, still glowing faintly with IOE.
"Come on," Gary said, grinning despite the adrenaline coursing through him. "You want my soul? Come take it."
The gray demon hesitated.
Then it turned and ran.
Gary blinked. "Wait, what? You're just... leaving?"
But the demon was already sprinting back toward the beach, abandoning its dying companions without a second thought.
"Huh," Gary said, watching it go. "Guess even demons have survival instincts."
He looked down at the four-eyed demon, which was still alive but barely, clutching its torn stomach and making wet gurgling sounds. The second gray demon had stopped moving, its eyes glassy and vacant.
Two souls were starting to emerge from the corpses.
Gary watched them rise, those spectral figures glowing in the purple moonlight. One from the gray demon, brighter and larger. One from the four-eyed demon, which was still technically alive but fading fast.
He reached out and grabbed both souls, absorbing them into his Origin Artifact before they could escape. He'd use these souls as a type of currency whenever he needed to transact with other demons.
His Inventory updated: Souls in Possession: Low-Quality Soul (2)
"Two souls," Gary muttered, looking at his blood-covered claws. "Not bad for my first real fight."
His body was shaking slightly, the adrenaline wearing off. His left shoulder ached where the four-eyed demon had pinned him. His legs felt a bit numb from channeling IOE through the kicks as it was his first time.
But he was alive. He'd won his first-ever supernatural fight.
"Nanto Seiken works," Gary said, a grin spreading across his face. "Holy shit, I can't believe I actually just did that. I mean, I can't do the crazy advanced stuff yet, but basic techniques? Yeah, I can fuck any of these lil ugly ass bitches up."
He looked back toward the beach. The chaos was still ongoing, demons fighting and killing each other in a massive free-for-all. But it seemed to be dying down. There were fewer screams now. Fewer unhatched eggs to raid.
Which meant the demons would start looking for other targets soon.
"This is the perfect place to improve my Nanto Seiken," Gary said, staring at the chaotic battle royale.
But before he could move, the ground shook.
A tremor ran through the volcanic island, strong enough to knock Gary off balance. He stumbled, catching himself on a rock as the sand beneath his feet shifted.
"What the fuck?"
The tremor continued, growing stronger. In the distance, Gary heard a deep rumbling sound, like thunder underground.
Then he saw it.
The volcano. The massive mountain dominating the island's center. Smoke was starting to pour from its peak, thick and black, billowing up into the purple sky.
"Oh no," Gary whispered. "Oh fuck no."
The volcano was waking up.
And from what Gary remembered of Roy's story, that meant every demon on this island had about five minutes to get inside the volcano before it erupted and killed them all.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Gary shouted at the sky. "I just learned how to fight, and now I have to climb into an active volcano?!"
Around him, the other demons on the beach had stopped fighting. They were all looking at the volcano, their inherited instincts screaming the same thing Gary's knowledge told him.
Run. Climb. Get inside before it's too late.
As one, the demons started moving. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands across the entire island, all running toward the volcano like their lives depended on it.
Because they did.
Gary looked down at his tiny legs, then up at the distant mountain.
"Fuck my life," he muttered, and started running.
...
Gary's legs pumped across the volcanic sand, his small demon body moving faster than he expected. Infinite stamina was no joke. While other demons were already panting and slowing down, Gary felt like he could run forever.
The volcano loomed ahead, smoke billowing from its peak.
"Alright, fuck it," Gary muttered. "If I'm gonna run, might as well practice."
He shifted his stance mid-sprint, adjusting his weight distribution the way Nanto Seiken taught. His claws came up into guard position, and he started testing basic movements while keeping pace with the demon horde.
A slash here. A pivot there. Nothing fancy, just drilling the fundamentals.
A quadrupedal demon running beside him noticed the movement and apparently thought Gary looked like easy prey. It lunged sideways, trying to tackle him.
Gary didn't even break stride.
Gessai.
His right hand shot out, fingers rigid, catching the demon in the throat mid-lunge. IOE flowed through the strike, and his claws punched clean through.
The demon's momentum carried it past Gary, crashing into the sand with purple blood spraying from its neck. Its soul emerged a moment later.
Gary grabbed it without looking, absorbing it into the Origin Artifact while he kept running.
"Thanks for the donation," he called back.
Two more demons tried their luck over the next hundred meters. Maybe they saw Gary was small and figured the first kill was a fluke. Maybe they were just desperate for souls.
Didn't matter.
Gary cut them down with basic strikes, barely slowing his pace. Rekkyaku took one's legs out from under it. Hiei Ken shredded the other with multiple rapid cuts.
Three more souls into storage.
Low-Quality Souls (5)
After that, the other demons started giving him space.
Word spread fast in a horde, apparently. The small red demon with glowing claws was dangerous. The demons running near him pulled away, creating a bubble of empty space around Gary as hundreds of them stampeded toward the volcano.
"Smart move," Gary said, grinning. "See? You idiots can learn."
He kept practicing as he ran. Testing footwork. Trying different combinations. His body was still too small and weak to execute the advanced techniques, but the basics? Those were getting smoother with every repetition.
The Competence function was already working. Each strike felt slightly more natural than the last. Each movement refined itself in real-time, muscle memory building faster than it had any right to.
"This is actually perfect training," Gary muttered. "Running for my life while learning supernatural martial arts. It's like the world's deadliest treadmill."
The volcano grew larger as they approached. The beach gave way to rocky terrain, then to slopes of hardened lava flows. The air got hotter, thick with sulfur.
Gary could see demons ahead already starting to climb. Those with wings flew straight up. The quadrupeds and insectoids used their multiple limbs to scramble up the rocky slope. The humanoid ones, like Gary, had to actually work for it.
"Here we go," Gary said, reaching the base of the volcano.
The climb was steep. Sharp volcanic rock cut into his hands and feet, but Gary barely noticed. Pain didn't slow him down, and exhaustion wasn't an option thanks to his boons.
He climbed steadily, watching demons above and below him. Some were fast, practically sprinting up the slope. Others were struggling, their small infant bodies not strong enough to keep the pace.
One demon above Gary lost its grip and fell, tumbling past him and bouncing off rocks before disappearing into the mass of demons below. Gary didn't hear it hit the ground. Too much noise from hundreds of demons climbing and scrambling.
"Don't look down," Gary told himself. "Gary, don't fucking look down!"
He looked down anyway.
The beach was far below, tiny from this height. The blood-red ocean stretched to the horizon, and Gary could see more eggs still washing ashore, completely unaware that everyone who'd already hatched was running for their lives.
"Glad I'm not them," Gary muttered, refocusing on the climb.
The higher he got, the hotter it became. Heat radiated from the volcanic rock, and Gary's hands were actually starting to smoke slightly where they gripped the stone. His demon physiology seemed to handle it fine, though. One of the perks of being a creature literally born from Hell.
Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably only ten minutes, Gary reached the crater's edge.
He pulled himself up and over, standing on the rim of the volcano, and looked down into its depths.
"Holy fucking shit."
The crater was massive. A straight drop down into darkness, with smoke rising in thick columns from below. And at the very bottom, maybe a thousand feet down, Gary could see it: a thin layer of solidified magma, cracked and glowing from within.
Bright red fissures ran through the black crust like veins of fire. The glow pulsed, brightening and dimming, and Gary could hear a deep rumbling from somewhere far below.
The whole thing looked like it was about to blow.
Demons were already climbing down the inner wall, using their claws to grip the rock face. The winged ones dove straight down, disappearing into the smoke. Gary watched one insect-type demon lose its grip and fall, screaming the whole way down until it hit the magma crust and... nothing. Just gone.
"Fuck that," Gary said. "I am not falling."
He turned and started climbing down carefully, testing each handhold before committing his weight. The inside of the crater was even hotter than the outside, and the smoke made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead.
But Gary could hear the other demons. Tapping sounds echoed through the crater, like hundreds of people knocking on walls.
What the hell are they doing?
Gary kept descending, following the sounds. As he got closer to the bottom, he started to see demons gathered in clusters along the crater wall, scratching and digging at specific spots.
Then one section of the wall collapsed inward with a crash.
The demons cheered, scrambling through the hole they'd made.
"Oh," Gary said, understanding clicking into place. "They're looking for caves. Hollow spots in the rock."
He scanned the wall near him, looking for his own section to test. The inherited memories from his eggshell were vague on this part, just instinctive knowledge that said: dig, hide, survive.
Gary found a spot that looked slightly different from the surrounding rock. Darker, maybe. He tapped it with his claw, and the sound that came back was... hollow.
"Bingo."
He started digging, his IOE-enhanced claws cutting through the thin layer of volcanic rock faster than they should've been able to. Chunks broke away, falling down toward the glowing magma below.
Within a minute, Gary had carved out a hole big enough to stick his head through.
Darkness on the other side. A tunnel, sloping downward.
Other demons nearby noticed his success and started crowding over, trying to push their way into Gary's tunnel.
"Back the fuck up," Gary snarled, slashing at the nearest one with his claws.
It jumped back, hissing, but didn't attack. The other demons hesitated, remembering the small red demon who'd killed several of them on the way here.
Gary widened the hole enough to fit through, then dropped inside.
The tunnel was pitch black. Gary couldn't see anything, but he could hear other demons ahead of him, their claws scraping against stone as they moved deeper.
Behind him, the hole he'd made was filling with other demons, squeezing through, pushing forward.
Gary started walking, one hand on the tunnel wall to guide him.
The air was hot and stale, but breathable. The tunnel sloped downward at a steady angle, and Gary had the distinct impression he was descending deep into the earth.
"This is insane," Gary muttered. "I'm walking through a tunnel inside a volcano that's about to erupt. This is literally insane."
But he kept moving because stopping meant getting trampled by the demons behind him.
The tunnel went on for what felt like miles. Down, down, down into the darkness. Gary's feet moved on autopilot, following the slope, following the sounds of demons ahead.
Then, from far behind, a massive BOOM echoed through the tunnel.
The volcano had erupted.
Gary felt the shockwave hit, a blast of superheated air rushing through the tunnel. He braced against the wall as heat washed over him, expecting to be cooked alive.
But the heat faded. The tunnel held. And Gary was still alive.
"Okay," he said, laughing slightly from the adrenaline. "Okay, we're good. We're fine. Everything's fine."
He kept walking.
Time became meaningless in the dark. Gary couldn't tell if he'd been walking for ten minutes or an hour. His legs didn't get tired, so he just kept going, following the demons ahead, nudged lightly by the demons behind.
Then he noticed something: light up ahead.
Faint, red, flickering. But definitely light.
The demons ahead started making excited noises, picking up their pace.
Gary hurried forward, curiosity overriding caution.
The tunnel opened up.
And Gary stepped out into the Abyss.
"What... the fuck..."
He stood at the mouth of a massive cave, looking out over an underground world that stretched as far as he could see.
The "sky" was solid rock, a dome of stone arching overhead, held up by massive natural pillars. But the ground below was alive with activity.
Rivers of lava flowed through channels in the black earth, glowing orange and red. Magma waterfalls poured from cave openings in the distant walls, feeding the rivers with molten rock. Forests of twisted black trees covered the landscape, their branches reaching up like skeletal hands.
Everything was bathed in dim red light from the lava, casting long shadows that made the whole world look like it was on fire.
The air shimmered with heat. Black ash floated through it like snow. And the temperature was hot enough that Gary could see waves of distortion rising from the ground.
"This is the Abyss," Gary whispered. "The actual fucking Abyss. The bottom level of demon society. Where all the low-rank demons live."
Hundreds of demons were already climbing down from the cave mouth, spreading out into the landscape below. Some ran toward the forests. Others headed for the lava rivers. A few took flight, disappearing into the hazy distance.
Gary watched them scatter, then looked down at his own tiny red body.
"Alright," he said. "New world. New life. Time to figure out how to survive in literal Hell."
He climbed down from the cave entrance and set foot in the Abyss for the first time.
The ground was hot beneath his feet, the black soil baked hard by the heat rising from below. The air smelled like sulfur and ash and something else Gary couldn't identify. Death, maybe. Or just the general essence of a world where everything was trying to kill everything else.
Gary started walking, heading away from the main group of demons. He needed to find shelter. Food and Water, maybe, though he technically didn't need any of that thanks to the Essence.
But more than anything, he needed to figure out what his next move was.
"I've got Nanto Seiken," Gary said, ticking off advantages on his claws as he walked. "I've got the Origin Artifact with its abilities. I've got the Essence protecting me from bullshit. And I've got five souls saved up as currency."
He looked around at the hellscape surrounding him.
"What I don't have is any idea how demons actually live down here. Where do they sleep? What do they eat? Are there, like, demon cities? Demon governments? Or is it just pure survival of the fittest 24/7?"
A roar echoed from somewhere in the forest ahead.
Gary stopped walking.
That roar had been deep. Powerful. Not the sound of a newborn demon, but something much, much bigger.
"Right," Gary said quietly. "First priority: don't get eaten by whatever made that sound. Second priority: find somewhere to hide until I figure shit out."
He changed direction, angling away from the forest and toward a rocky outcropping in the distance. Caves, maybe. Or at least some cover.
As he walked, Gary kept his eyes open, scanning for threats. And for the first time since being reborn, he felt the full weight of where he was and what he'd done.
This wasn't a game. Wasn't some power fantasy where he'd instantly become overpowered and steamroll everything.
This was the Abyss. A world where infant demons died by the thousands every day. Where strength was the only law that mattered.
And Gary was at the very bottom of the food chain.
"Alright, Abyss," Gary muttered, his claws starting to glow with IOE as he prepared for whatever came next. "Let's see what you've got. But first, I still need my body appearance changed."