In the vast emptiness of the cosmic void, where no planet or star dared to intrude, a realm of pure ethereal silence stretched endlessly. Countless glowing stars dotted the infinite darkness like scattered diamonds on black velvet, their soft light casting an otherworldly glow across the nothingness. At the heart of this desolate expanse floated a small island, defying all laws of gravity and reality. It hovered serenely, suspended by unseen forces, its edges fringed with ancient trees whose leaves shimmered with faint luminescent energy.
Upon this floating sanctuary stood a grand mansion, a masterpiece of architectural majesty. Its structure blended white marble, obsidian black stone, and gleaming golden accents in perfect harmony. Towering spires reached toward the starlit void, while intricate carvings of ancient runes and soul symbols adorned every pillar and archway. The mansion pulsed with a subtle, living aura, as if the building itself breathed with the power of forgotten realms. This was no ordinary dwelling—it was the neutral ground where the rulers of the soul reaper grades convened, a place where even the mightiest dared not unleash their full fury.
A ripple disturbed the air as a figure materialized at the island's edge. The King of the 4th Grade Soul Reapers had arrived. Cloaked in flowing robes that shimmered between deep crimson and midnight blue, he landed gracefully on the island's grassy surface. His boots touched down without a sound, and he straightened up, scanning the mansion with sharp, calculating eyes.
"Am I early... or did I arrive late?" he muttered to himself, his voice low and laced with dry amusement. He adjusted the ornate gauntlet on his right hand and began walking slowly toward the massive double doors. "Let's see what awaits inside."
Pushing the heavy doors open, he stepped into the grand hall. The interior was breathtakingly vast. Towering pillars of polished black marble lined both sides, each etched with glowing golden veins that pulsed like living arteries. At the center stretched an enormous rectangular table, long enough to seat dozens yet currently holding only seven intricately carved chairs. The table itself appeared forged from a single slab of star-forged crystal, its surface reflecting faint images of distant galaxies.
At the far end of the hall, positioned at the head like a throne of judgment, sat a single prominent chair. Behind it loomed a massive wall-sized monitor, its surface dark and dormant for now, framed in ornate golden borders that hummed with restrained power.
The 4th Grade King had barely taken two steps inside when he noticed two figures already present. Seated casually on the left side was the King of the 2nd Grade Soul Reapers—a tall, lean man with sharp features, silver hair tied back, and a mischievous glint in his violet eyes. Opposite him, maintaining perfect posture, sat the King of the 3rd Grade Soul Reapers, a stoic man with long dark hair, clad in elegant emerald robes that radiated quiet authority.
The moment the 4th King entered, the 2nd King's face lit up with exaggerated delight. He leaned back in his chair and let out a loud, theatrical cheer.
"Wohhhooo! Look who decided to grace us with his presence—the mighty King of the 4th Grade Soul Reapers! Must've been a real struggle dragging yourself all the way here, huh?"
The 4th King ignored the jab at first, striding forward to claim one of the empty seats. As he pulled the chair out, he shot back without missing a beat, "You shut your mouth and stop spouting nonsense."
On the other side of the table, the 3rd King remained completely silent, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if the banter didn't concern him in the slightest. He exuded an aura of detached calm, deliberately distancing himself from the childish exchange.
The 4th King settled into his seat and turned toward the 3rd King with a respectful nod. "King of the 3rd Grade Soul Reapers… how have things been on your end?"
For a moment, no one spoke. The 4th King stared at him. The 3rd King stared back impassively. Even the 2nd King paused, watching the standoff with barely contained glee. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
The 3rd King slowly turned his head to the side, refusing to engage further.
Seeing this, the 2nd King burst into laughter, slapping the table lightly. "Ahaha! Look at that cold shoulder. You just got completely ignored, my friend."
The 4th King's face twisted in irritation. "Will you stop laughing already?"
But the 2nd King only laughed harder, wiping a mock tear from his eye. "How can I stop when you're getting disrespected so beautifully?"
The 4th King clenched his jaw and fell into frustrated silence, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
Suddenly, a deep, resonant sound emanated from the massive monitor wall. The voice that followed was surprisingly youthful—like that of an eight-year-old boy—clear, innocent, yet carrying an undeniable weight of absolute authority.
"So… the King of the 1st Grade Soul Reapers still hasn't arrived. He must be on his way. No matter."
Instantly, the playful atmosphere vanished. The 2nd King's laughter died in his throat. All three kings turned their full attention toward the monitor. Without hesitation, they rose from their seats and bowed their heads deeply in unison.
"Welcome, Lord," they intoned together, voices steady and reverent.
After a respectful pause, they straightened and returned to their seats. The Lord's childlike voice continued from the monitor, warm yet commanding.
"So, how is everyone doing?"
The 3rd King was the first to respond, his tone calm and measured. "We are all well, my Lord. Nothing overly harmful has occurred on our fronts."
"I see," the Lord replied simply.
At that exact moment, the grand doors swung open once more. A towering figure entered—the King of the 1st Grade Soul Reapers. He was dressed entirely in black, his attire evoking ancient, regal warrior traditions with flowing robes and intricate armor plates. Though his build resembled that of an ordinary human, he stood an imposing eleven feet tall, his presence alone seeming to compress the air in the hall.
Before even approaching his seat, he bowed deeply toward the monitor. "My dear Lord, I am truly sorry for my tardiness."
The Lord's voice softened with understanding. "No problem at all, 1st King. I haven't even begun yet."
Still bowed, the 1st King replied gratefully, "Thank you, my Lord, for your understanding." Only then did he rise to his full height, move to the grand chair at the head of the table, and sit down with dignified grace.
The Lord's voice filled the hall once more. "Alright. Now, let's get to the point—"
He was interrupted by the 1st King, who raised a hand politely. "Will you begin right away, my Lord? The Deadly Duo Soul Manipulators have not arrived yet."
"Worry not," the Lord replied smoothly. "I will speak with them privately later if needed. For now, I shall begin. If any of you have questions, speak freely."
The four kings leaned forward slightly, the weight of the upcoming discussion settling over the grand hall like a gathering storm.
Scene Shift to Earth
Dawn had just broken over the horizon. The first rays of the morning sun painted the sky in soft hues of gold and pink as Nitsuki, Takashi, and Kento stepped into the ruins of what was once a dense, thriving jungle. Now, the area lay devastated—trees snapped like twigs, the ground scarred with deep craters, and lingering traces of destructive energy still humming in the air. This was the Exclusive Stone jungle, a place that had become a battlefield far too many times.
"Stay sharp," Takashi warned, his voice low and serious as he scanned the broken treeline. "You never know when a Soul Reaper might strike. They could be hiding anywhere."
Nitsuki nodded, gripping his weapon a little tighter. "Yeah, I'm being careful. Kento, you too—stay alert and—"
He stopped mid-sentence and spun around. The spot where Kento had been walking just seconds ago was empty.
Nitsuki's eyes widened. "Wait… where the hell did Kento disappear to now?"
Takashi halted and turned as well, letting out an exasperated click of his tongue. "Tch… that idiot is really testing my patience today."
Unbeknownst to them, the moment they had entered the destroyed jungle, Kento had spotted a particularly comfortable-looking spot behind a thick, half-uprooted tree. Without a second thought, he had flopped down and fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep, snoring softly as if he were back in his own bed.
Nitsuki and Takashi doubled back quickly. Takashi sighed heavily as he approached the sleeping figure. "Talking to him is pointless. We'll have to carry him."
With surprising ease, Takashi bent down and lifted Kento's entire body with one arm, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of rice. Kento, still lost in dreamland, mumbled sleepily, "Soul Reapers… attacking… hit 'em… kill… killlllll…"
Nitsuki stepped forward and delivered a firm slap across Kento's cheek.
To everyone's surprise, instead of waking up, Kento only smiled wider and sank into an even deeper slumber, his snores growing louder.
Both Nitsuki and Takashi simultaneously facepalmed, letting out synchronized groans of frustration.
"Whatever," Nitsuki muttered, shaking his head. "Let's just keep moving."
Takashi nodded in agreement, adjusting Kento's weight on his shoulder. The trio—well, the duo plus one unconscious member—pressed forward into the heart of the ruined jungle.
They had only covered a short distance when something caught their attention. A few dozen meters ahead, behind the shattered remains of a massive tree, a faint silver-colored aura flickered to life, pulsing once before vanishing into the shadows.
The air grew heavier. Something—or someone—was watching.