Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes

The air seemed to freeze, time stretched out, and every second felt like an eternity.

"Ah—!!!" A hysterical, completely off-key roar suddenly ripped through the eerie silence.

All eyes were drawn to a small, thin man in an old military uniform who had been trembling just moments before.

The immense pressure finally crushed his remaining rationality and destroyed all hesitation.

Like a mad dog driven to the brink, his eyes bloodshot, he burst forth with astonishing speed, lunging at the nearest long knife stuck in the ground.

laugh!

He gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands, used all his strength to draw the blade, turned around, and in one swift motion, slashed down fiercely at a companion who had just been attacking the Jingling Society members with him but was now equally terrified!

The Yasukuni sword, meticulously maintained by the priests, remains sharp.

The sound of a knife slicing into flesh was accompanied by the crisp crack of a neck bone breaking.

The next second, a head with a look of astonishment flew high into the air amidst the gushing blood!

Scalding blood splattered like a fountain onto the perpetrator's狰狞 face, like boiling oil poured into water, instantly shattering everyone's reason.

The oppressive atmosphere and the instinct for survival were completely ignited by this first cut.

"mine!!"

"Get out of my way! This knife is mine!"

"Kill! Kill them all!!"

"do not come!!"

"I'm sorry, but I had to save my life!!"

Beast-like roars, desperate screams, the horrific sound of blades slicing into flesh and bone, and dying wails instantly filled the space.

The once clearly defined camps have completely collapsed. No one knows if a friend who just had dinner with you not long ago will stab you in the back. The bottom line of humanity has been torn to shreds in the face of survival.

What's more, these people have incredibly low moral standards.

What Jingling Society? What companions? What class?

At this moment, everyone is both prey and hunter.

All for that one chance to survive!

Someone strangled their competitor to death in a fight for a knife, only to have someone else take advantage of the situation and chop off their head in disbelief.

Groups of people pounced on the lone individual, their blades flashing, and instantly dismembered him;

Some people were hiding in a corner, trembling with fear, when they were slashed down from behind by people who were bloodthirsty.

Some even turned their knives on their own comrades who had just been fighting alongside them, all in an effort to collect ten heads.

The scene completely spiraled out of control, turning into a primal, savage, and bloody slaughter!

Limbs and severed arms flew about, internal organs spilled all over the ground, and the strong smell of blood mixed with the earthy smell of rainwater created a nauseating aura of death.

Rainwater washed over the ground, but it couldn't wash away the rapidly spreading, viscous, and glaring crimson. On the ground, unnoticed by anyone, the flow of blood seemed to be disturbed, slowly forming an umbrella-shaped pattern centered on the crowd.

Screams rose and fell, only to be abruptly silenced by the blade.

The black-robed Ringwraith hovered in the air, coldly looking down at the hell on earth he had personally orchestrated. Dark clouds rolled in the sky, like a giant curtain, shrouding this mad performance.

"Calm down! Everyone, snap out of it! Chairman, there are over five hundred people here. If we form a group of a dozen or so, as long as we don't attack each other, we'll definitely survive!" Commissioner Sato remained rational, holding his knife, and reunited with some familiar high-ranking members of the Jingling Society to deal with the enemies who wanted to attack them.

The president was breathing heavily, his head throbbing and he felt nauseous. He could only nod with difficulty: "As long as I survive, I will owe you all my life. Whatever resources you want in the future, I will have the means to obtain them."

That's exactly what Sato wants. Coming from a humble background, he won't give up any opportunity to climb the social ladder.

He exchanged a glance with the crowd, revealing a ruthless expression, and swung his knife at the nearby lone warriors without hesitation.

Time passed amidst the carnage, fewer and fewer people survived, and their movements grew increasingly weary.

As the last dying scream faded into the rain, in the open space in front of the temple, besides the piles of mutilated corpses like a carpet and the rampant flow of blood, only thirty or forty figures, their bodies covered in blood as if they had been pulled from a pool of blood, remained.

They hunched over their knives, breathing heavily, their eyes vacant and numb, with piles of bloody spoils around them, and even in their hands: human heads, their expressions frozen in extreme terror or pain.

Most of the survivors formed groups, leaving only a few scattered individuals.

Among the groups, the largest was undoubtedly Sato's group.

Their suits were tattered and stained with blood and pieces of internal organs. They had cuts on their faces and bodies, and their eyes were filled with wariness.

During the standoff, Sato mustered his strength, counted the number of survivors around him, and then scrambled out from behind the pile of corpses, collapsing into the muddy blood and frantically kowtowing to the black-robed Ringwraith in the air:

"My lord, Lord Demon Mist! Enough, enough! Look, so many heads! Ten heads per person would be more than enough! We've done it! Please! Let us go! We swear we'll never dare to utter a single word about you! Please!" His voice was hoarse and shrill, filled with fawning and extreme pleading.

The other survivors also seemed to wake from a dream, dropping the severed heads or weapons they were holding, falling to the ground, and kowtowing repeatedly with Sato, crying and begging: "Sir, spare our lives!" "We have done it, please have mercy!" "Please let us go!" and so on.

Dozens of blood-soaked survivors humbly begged for hope of survival amidst the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

The black-robed Ringwraith stood silently on the eaves of the worship hall, his wide sleeves motionless in the cold rain and wind.

Silence weighed heavily on the hearts of every survivor.

Just as the glimmer of ecstasy in Sato's eyes was about to fade and be replaced by deeper despair, that icy voice finally rang out again, clearer than before, each word like an ice pick piercing their souls:

Ten?

"Now."

"I want a hundred for each person."

The slight elation that had just appeared on Sato's face instantly froze.

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes wide open as if about to burst, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

A despair colder and more utter than the previous slaughter, like a chilling tide from the abyss, instantly engulfed him and all the survivors.

As the direct organizer of today's sacrificial ceremony, no one knew the total number of people present better than him; it was no more than five hundred.

This means that at most five people will survive in the end.

This still has to be done on the premise that the demonic fog doesn't escalate further.

Even if they knew that the demonic mist had no intention of keeping its promise, so what? These people had no power to resist.

If more than 500 people were unable to resist before, it is even less likely that the exhausted few dozen people will be able to resist now.

The only thing to do is to do exactly as the demonic mist said and pray that the other party will be in a good mood and let him off the hook.

In an instant, the hard-won group fell apart, and the killing resumed.

The outer perimeter of the Summoning Society.

The authorities have sealed off the Summoning Society, and reporters have been driven away several streets away. They can only temporarily use the rooftops or balconies of nearby buildings to keep their cameras glued to the dark cloud.

The Y-shaped assault team wore full-body armor similar to that of the Talos squad and carried a strange weapon: a launcher connected to a square box on their backs, somewhat resembling a flamethrower.

The raindrops dripped crisply onto their armor.

They knew that using sheer numbers was inefficient against something as extraordinary as the demonic mist.

Therefore, the encirclement was formed only by the combined efforts of the assault team and the extraordinary rapid attack force, as well as specially modified armored vehicles.

They had rehearsed this situation many times, but now it was clear that plans couldn't keep up with changes. Looking at the dense clouds, the air was filled with tension and a sense of solemnity in the face of the unknown.

"Target: Demonic Mist. Its capabilities far exceed expectations. Execute Plan One: Suffocation." The commander's voice trembled slightly through the channel.

As the order was given, the assault teams deployed around the perimeter activated their jets, which emitted a low hum as large amounts of nearly transparent, viscous special aerogel, like living slimes, were sprayed under high pressure into the inner courtyard of the Soul Reaper's Society, which was shrouded in dark clouds.

Nearby armored vehicles were even spraying this aerogel directly into the low-hanging black clouds.

These aerogels expand and solidify rapidly upon contact with air, forming layers of viscous and tough film that attempt to envelop and penetrate the churning black cloud.

Even more bizarrely, they can freeze local airflow and even form invisible cutting barriers to divide and block the dark clouds.

Kosuke Iwasaki immediately sensed the threat posed by this peculiar substance. It could disrupt the flow of the black mist and sever the connections between its particles. Previously, this would have been quite a problem for him.

However, the black fog, now enhanced by overdraft, hardly requires any special countermeasures due to its large coverage area. It might take twenty minutes for the aerogel to be effective, but the opponent could not possibly have that much reserves.

He didn't intend to let the other party keep spewing insults like that.

Iwasaki's thoughts moved slightly.

In the parking lot of the Summoning Society's inner courtyard, several cars were suddenly grabbed by an invisible giant hand and, like children throwing sandbags, were slammed into the outer assault team and armored vehicles with a shrill whistling sound.

Even though he didn't focus on the Mage's Hand when he overexerted himself, the increase in his basic attributes still allowed him to throw those little cars into the air.

Boom—

The impact and the tearing of metal produced a piercing noise. The wreckage of the car tumbled and crashed in, causing the cannons of the two armored vehicles to tilt and stop firing.

Several commandos were also hit by the blast from the thrown car, but fortunately, the armor provided cushioning and saved their lives.

"Report: Target attacked by projectile vehicles; multiple armored vehicles damaged; aerogel reserves critically low! We recommend implementing Purification Plan Two." The report came over the channel.

The commander breathed a sigh of relief. He absolutely did not want to engage in close combat with the demonic mist. Looking at those twisted scrap metal vehicles so close at hand, if they were directly hit, this advanced armor would be no different from an iron coffin. At best, it would leave them with a painful but complete corpse, reducing the burden on the morticians.

"Commander McCullough, I implore you to reconsider! The Necromancer's Society is of great importance to our nation! Our commandos are attempting to break through."

In the office, the Defense Minister's voice was filled with unprecedented urgency and pleading. He was half-lying on the desk, his suit completely soaked with cold sweat, as if he could see his death approaching.

On the other end of the screen, McCullough's face was as cold and hard as iron: "Lord Kihara, our intelligence indicates that the target's capabilities have undergone a qualitative change. The suffocation plan has failed, and we don't have enough aerogel to replenish it. The threat level of the Demonic Mist has been raised to the highest level. For the sake of Tokyo and the safety of our allies, we must execute the 'Purification Plan,' which is also the President's order."

“No, Commander! There’s still more there!” The Defense Minister tried to make a last-ditch effort, but McCullough had already cut off the communication, and the other party’s image disappeared from the screen.

The Defense Minister slumped in his chair, his face ashen.

What utter nonsense about Tokyo and the alliance! They're just using them as a testing ground!

But he didn't even dare to complain to the other person's face, because that would be completely useless.

He knew perfectly well that it was all over. He could almost see his future being torn apart by radicals.

"Cooperate with the US military's orders." He closed his eyes, pressed the call button, and his voice was dry and hoarse.

Upon receiving the order, the outermost armored vehicles unleashed a barrage of rockets that tore through the rain and fired precisely from different directions into the inner courtyard of the Soul Summoning Society.

There was no deafening explosion.

There was only a burst of indescribable, blinding pure white heat.

The moment the thermite oxidant comes into contact with the target, it releases a terrifying high temperature of over 3,000 degrees Celsius, like a shower of flowers.

The entire inner courtyard of the Summoning Society, along with the edge of that rolling black cloud, was instantly ignited.

Buildings, trees, corpses—everything flammable became the best fuel. The raging flames devoured everything. Rainwater evaporated into white vapor the moment it came into contact with this fiery zone. The air was distorted by the extreme heat, crackling and popping.

Just seconds before the thermite bomb was launched.

Sato's body was constantly stained with blood, which was then washed away by the rain, making him appear like a madman.

"Sato! You're where you are today thanks to my help. I promise you, once we get out of here, I'll give you whatever you want! Don't you like my daughter? She'll marry you, I'll make her marry you!" The chairman watched as Sato relentlessly hacked down six people, fighting his way to him.

Sato used to act like he didn't know kendo and was being suppressed and beaten clumsily in front of him, but it turns out that was all a business-style approach!

He clearly knows kendo, his skills are quite proficient, and he has been holding back his strength all along.

Sato, however, ignored everything and numbly beheaded the commander with a single blow.

Another human head piled up at their feet.

At this moment, only six or seven people remained on the sea of ​​corpses, all of them bloodthirsty and looking like demons crawling out of hell.

They hacked away mechanically, their only targets being the still-breathing "heads".

"Seven...six," Sato counted nervously, a last glimmer of desperation in his eyes. "Almost there! Just one more. If only five of us are left, we can live...we can..."

He suddenly lost his voice. In the sky, the destructive white light pierced through the dark clouds, like the arrival of a new sun.

Even though the thermite was still quite a distance away, a terrifying heat wave was already hitting them.

Sato felt as if he had been thrown into a pool of lava, his skin burning with unimaginable pain, the air seemed to boil, and the rain turned into white mist.

He watched in horror as a burly man raised a knife, his body melting like a candle the instant it came into contact with the blazing white light! He didn't even have time to scream.

"No—!!" Sato let out a heart-wrenching, utterly desperate scream.

It wasn't directed at the demonic fog, but rather at the sky above and those who launched the rockets—an unprecedented and profound hatred erupted within them!

Why?! They were clearly doing what that demon demanded; they killed so many people!

They were so close, so very close to survival! Why crush that last glimmer of hope at a time like this!

"You will all die a horrible death—!!" His venomous curse was drowned out by the roar of flames.

The flames instantly engulfed him, along with the pile of corpses at his feet, built from countless lives, which quickly charred into a final, swan song in this inferno.