Kamiko exhaled sharply, sweat trickling down his temple as he tightened the makeshift bandage around Alan's chest. The cloth—torn from Alan's shirt—was already blotched dark red, but it held the bleeding at bay.
"And… it's done. Nice," Kamiko muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced at Alan's pale face, his lips trembling between consciousness and unconsciousness.
Alan tried to smile, but it twisted into a grimace. "You always… tie them too tight," he whispered, voice brittle as broken glass.
Kamiko forced a chuckle. "Better too tight than too late."
Above them, the shadow of the grand obsidian castle stretched like a blade across the ground. Inside its throne-like balcony, Entity 404 leaned forward, gazing upon the bloody stage below. His glowing, fractured eyes reflected amusement and cruelty.
"And now… it is time for Battle Four," he declared, his voice echoing like thunder across the realm. "Team Kuruki versus Team Kerimi. Let the slaughter bring us… enjoyment."
The ground beneath them suddenly quaked. The black stones of the castle floor vibrated, dust raining down from the fractured ceiling.
Kashimo staggered, barely catching himself. "What the hell is that?" he shouted.
Everyone froze. The air shifted, thick and suffocating.
Entity 404 narrowed his eyes, though his face betrayed nothing but the faintest flicker of unease.
No… this shaking. This is not ordinary.
His mind drifted back—centuries ago—to the battle that nearly ended him.
The last time this realm trembled like this… was during my clash with Entity 239. That wretched fool. And yet, if it is happening again… then who is it now?
For the first time in decades, a sliver of doubt pierced the demon's arrogance.
---
The Structure of Fujism
Long before mortals ever knew its whispers, Fujism had been more than a religion—it was a hierarchy of living nightmares.
At its pinnacle stood two great powers: the Midnight Demon, ruler of shadows and destruction, and his eternal rival—an Unknown One, whose existence was spoken only in fragmented scripture. Light against darkness. Order against ruin.
Beneath the Midnight Demon served his most trusted hand: Entity 404, the right claw of terror, the commander of chaos. Below him, the numbered entities stretched like a dark army, their ranks beginning with the weakest—Entity 1—and climbing all the way to 404.
Yet many had perished. Entities 239, 54, and 36—fallen, erased in the endless wars between factions. Whenever an entity died, another demon would rise to take its mantle, inheriting both number and burden.
But now, the hierarchy was splintered. Two factions emerged:
The Faction of Midnight, loyal to the demon lord.
The Faction of the Unknown, whispering rebellion in the cracks of the abyss.
And the first death of that conflict had been Entity 239—slain by none other than 404 himself.
The shaking… could it be a sign? 404 thought, his claws digging into the obsidian railing. Could the Unknown One be stirring again?
---
Back to the Fight
The quake subsided, but unease remained. The audience—souls trapped in shadow—roared as the next stage ignited.
The floor split open, revealing the arena: a circular pit of black stone, lit by pale blue flames that writhed like tortured spirits.
"It is time," Entity 404 intoned.
The first battle: Asugi versus Nagumo.
Asugi, from Team Kuruki, was a grizzled man in his forties. Once a corrupt businessman, his downfall had landed him in prison. But prison forged more than scars—it sharpened his fists. Years of brawls, debts, and survival had made him as ruthless as he was bitter.
His opponent, Nagumo of Team Kerimi, was barely eighteen. A martial artist with a red-black belt in taekwondo, his form was sharp, his body quick. But experience? That was another story.
They stepped forward, knives glinting in their hands.
Asugi sneered. "Lost your nerve already, kid? You're holding that blade like a toy. You already lost it."
Nagumo didn't flinch. His eyes were steel.
The gong rang.
Nagumo erupted first, spinning into a flying kick—only this time, the blade was concealed in his grip. The kick slashed past Asugi's cheek, narrowly missing his eye.
Asugi cursed, staggering back. So that's how it is… tricky brat.
Nagumo pressed on, stabbing left, right, high, low—his movements unpredictable, like a cornered animal. But unpredictability had limits. Soon, his pattern repeated, his rhythm exposed.
Asugi smirked. "Got you."
He hurled his knife at Nagumo's face. The boy twisted away just in time—the blade grazing his ear.
The counter left Asugi open. Nagumo lunged, tackling him to the ground.
And then came the storm.
One stab.
Two.
Four.
Ten.
Sixteen.
Twenty-seven.
Asugi's screams grew hoarse, then silent, drowned under the frenzy of steel.
Thirty-six thrusts.
Nagumo finally stopped, chest heaving, his hands dripping crimson.
The crowd erupted.
"Team Kerimi, one to zero," the Midnight Demon boomed, his voice rolling like thunder.
Asugi's body dissolved into smoke.
---
The Second Match
Next came Ren versus Itsuki.
Ren, a middle-aged man, had once been a white-collar worker. He had little love for combat, but he had prepared himself with years of self-defense training. His movements were cautious, measured.
Itsuki, by contrast, was a 28-year-old doctor—a man who understood the human body not for healing, but for dismantling.
The moment the gong struck, the clash began. Ren defended well, parrying blows with precision, his knife slicing close to Itsuki's arm.
But Itsuki was no ordinary fighter. He studied every motion, every breath. Then, with surgical precision, he struck—knife plunging into Ren's solar plexus.
Ren gasped, falling to his knees.
Itsuki's boot slammed into his temple. The world spun into darkness.
The final blow—a knife to the brain—ended it.
"Two to zero," Entity 404 announced, a grin spreading across his jagged face. "Will history be made tonight? A third consecutive whitewash?"
---
The Third Match
Akaji versus Hikaru.
Akaji was a timid teenager, dragged unwillingly into this blood sport. Hikaru was his opposite: a hardened street fighter with scars across his arms and a grin carved from violence.
The result was swift. Hikaru dominated, stabbing Akaji twice before the boy could even raise his weapon.
Akaji tried, desperately swinging, but the fight ended in moments. Hikaru's blade pierced his throat, silencing him forever.
Entity 404's laughter shook the arena.
"And that… is history! Three whitewashes in a row! Truly, this season is blessed with carnage!"
With a flick of his claw, the remaining members of Team Kuruki dissolved into ash.
---
Round Two Begins
"Now," Entity 404 declared, "the games continue. The surviving teams: Akashi, Kerimi, Kotodin, and Lekki. From forty contestants… only eighteen remain.
"The rules are simple. First winner fights second. Third fights fourth. Until none remain."
The audience howled.
The next pairing: Team Kotodin versus Team Lekki.
But Kotodin was weakened—missing members meant one loss could doom them all. Lekki, however, stood at full strength.
---
Annastra versus Jamie
The first fighters were called: Annastra, the seasoned warrior who had defeated Ryosei, versus Jamie, the controversial victor who had survived only through violation.
Annastra's eyes burned with determination. Jamie's grin was mocking, confident.
The gong rang.
Annastra launched forward, a flying kick aimed for Jamie's head. Jamie ducked, countering with a flurry of knife strikes.
Clash after clash, their blades met. Sparks flew, the air thick with grunts and the sound of tearing flesh.
Minutes passed. Two. Three. Neither faltered.
Jamie struck first, slashing Annastra's arm. Blood spattered, but Annastra stood firm, tears brimming yet refusing to yield.
Five more minutes bled away in stalemate. Then, Annastra found his chance—his blade buried deep into Jamie's side.
Jamie retaliated, stabbing Annastra's hand, twisting his knife with brutal force. Pain seared through Annastra, but rage carried him beyond it.
With a roar, he stabbed again. And again. Sixteen times in a flurry of adrenaline.
The last strike pierced Jamie's heart.
Silence. Then, eruption.
"One to zero!" Entity 404 bellowed. "What a glorious clash! Eleven minutes of pure carnage!"
---
Lagumi versus Hideki
Next was Lagumi, the strategist who once carried Kotodin, against Hideki, a decorated military tactician from Lekki.
Their duel was sharp, intelligent—every strike, every feint a battle of minds.
But Hideki adapted. He studied Lagumi's rhythm, countering with ruthless precision. His knife plunged into Lagumi's stomach.
Lagumi faltered, collapsing to one knee. With grim resolve, he lunged at Hideki's temple, but the soldier twisted the blade, reversing momentum.
The steel buried into Lagumi's skull.
"Equalized!" Entity 404 declared. "One to one!"
But rules were rules. Kotodin still held majority, while Lekki's numbers dwindled.
With a wave of his claw, 404 ended it. The remnants of Team Lekki were erased in a single breath.
Hideki stood alone, whispering bitterly, "Some things… are just not created equal."
---
The arena trembled again. Louder. Stronger. The walls of the realm groaned as if something immense was trying to break through.
Entity 404's smile finally faltered. His claws dug deep into the railing.
No… it cannot be…
The Return of the Doom had begun.
Chapter 27 – End
To be continued…