All across the World, TV screens, phones, billboards—lit up with the same image: a vast and dimly lit corridor, stone walls layered with moss, glowing torches crackling on pillars carved with ancient script.
The screens panned to a lone figure stepping into view, red gleam reflected on his pale face, dark eyes sharp with resolve.
Ketsu.
Blood traced down his arms, staining the floor beneath him. A sea of voices roared online and across living rooms.
"That guy again—he's the one they call Crimson Demi Hunter"
"He took down another two demi-humans!"
"Is he even human?"
"I saw him regenerate a limb earlier"
He stood silently at the edge of a vast, ancient chamber—the first real stopping point since the dungeon had begun. Behind him, scattered bodies of deformed demi-humans—evidence they were no more than cursed constructs. He wiped blood off his chin with the back of his hand and stared forward.
The floor trembled.
A massive stone gate loomed ahead, sealed tight. Intricate lines ran across its surface, pulsating with a dull red glow. Etched at the center in eerie glyphs was a symbol resembling a devil's eye, partially shut.
Ketsu stepped closer.
"Locked. I figured."
He placed a blood-soaked hand on the door. Warmth radiated from it—malevolent, unnatural. He didn't flinch
The screen on the outside flickered again. The hijacker's voice—low, distorted—echoed over the stream.
"Ten million souls. A dungeon born from Kyoukai itself. Only the one who reaches the final chamber and defeats the ruler of this world will free the rest."
"Or die trying."
In bars, homes, schools, hospitals—people watched. No one turned away. Not from this.
Ketsu stalked through a narrow hallway.
The deeper he went, the more surreal the surroundings became. Walls bled, floors hissed beneath his boots. The demi-humans here had begun to take shapes that were less coherent—patchwork bodies, flickering features. He slashed them apart as fast as they came, his regeneration and blood-weapons making quick work of the unstable constructs.
He stopped when the next chamber opened before him.
Torches flared up to reveal a massive arena-like space. Dust swirled, and in its center—
—a hulking figure twisted unnaturally, four arms dragging across the floor. A false demi-human, larger than the others. Its head rotated the wrong way as it stood, no eyes, only a grinning mouth stretched from temple to temple.
The broadcast focused in. Viewers screamed.
"There's another one!"
"He's alone—he's gonna die!"
"That's not even human anymore—what IS that thing?"
Ketsu summoned a long halberd from his side, twisting blood into an axe blade.
"This one's different…"
The creature leapt. Ketsu ducked under a claw, rolled across the stone, and hurled a blood-spear—pinning the creature's leg to the wall. But it tore itself free without flinching.
Back and forth they moved in a blur—limbs slicing, spears flying, each blow louder than thunder in the open space. Ketsu's blood hardened into shields that shattered. His shoulder tore. He reattached it with a spike from his chest. His feet left smears across the stone.
One final strike.
The creature lunged.
Ketsu let it come.
At the last second, he sliced across his own arm, splattering blood midair, forming a massive blade from nothing—and twisted through the beast's torso.
Silence.
It screeched once and dissolved, screaming in reverse, like a VHS rewinding.
Panels of analysts debated heatedly on air.
"Who is he?"
"He's tearing through layers like they're made of paper!"
"His regeneration—how does he recover so fast?!"
Clips of Ketsu fighting looped on public screens. Hashtags like #CrimsonDevil and #DemiSlayer trended across platforms. Streamer, wide-eyed and laughing nervously, muttered:
"D-D-D-Dude i-if that guy is a Human, D-Dude I don't want to meet a d-devil," a famous streamer said.
Videos all over the Internet went viral. Some try to raise their clicks, some criticise people making money with it and others state it's inhuman.
Ketsu pushed open a heavy stone door. The chamber beyond was darker than the others, lit only by crimson torches that flared to life as he stepped forward..
Three figures stepped out from the far end.
Not flickering like the others.
Stable.
Fully formed.
These were no mere immitations.
A constructed demi-boss trio.
One wielded a massive chained club, another bore a shield of bone and fire, and the third's face was completely featureless—just a carved mask with a single slit.
Ketsu stopped. His arm bled freely now, by choice. The blood coiled like snakes behind him, forming crude, jagged blades in the air.
"They're adapting now," he muttered. "Let's see if they're real enough to bleed."
Kouji leaned forward, fists clenched, watching the screen. One of the broadcasts showed Ketsu stepping into the mid-boss chamber.
Yuusuke crossed his arms. "He's not slowing down."
"I hate this," Kouji said quietly. "We're just... watching."
They said nothing for a moment, the faint audio of the stream echoing between them.