Author: ello there again, sorry for the delayed chapter my co writer was still lazy asf fr fr.
2nd World Decided: Demon Slayer
There will be a new system called the Z-System implanted in the following chapters (Or the next arc )
It's similar to the choice-making system except Its only purpose is to satisfy the hunger or well the interest of the hollow.
Failure to do so will result in termination/takeover.
causing the reader to lose control over the strings we attached to Yhwach's dear old fate.
still thinking about it.
Anyway, here's a question: If life were a video game, what tips would appear on the loading screen?
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[Narrator Pov]
The sooner one accepts the pain of living, the quicker one will relish in the triumph of life.
That is what Yhwach told himself.
The King in black fell down through a garganta after meeting that thing.
His hand still slick with dried blood rose to the side of his face, fingers crawling around the hollow mask fused to his face as he landed down on a foreign land.
It pulsed under his touch, almost alive, like it was mocking him for even trying to peel it off. The moment he tried to pull it away, pain tore through his body like fire under his skin. burning everything from the inside out.
His spiritual pressure flared out of control. The spiritual energy around him distorted, flickering in and out.
If he had to describe it, it would be like a heartbeat struggling to remember how to beat.
That hollow... did something to him, something he couldn't even begin to process.
Its voice hadn't been a voice at all.
It was soundless.
It felt wordless.
Every attempt to remember what it said slipped through his mind like grains of sand slipping through his fingers.
What he did know was simple yet pretty horrifying.
The hollow was feeding on him. Not his flesh, but his soul, his very life force.
He could feel himself breaking down, Pieces of his soul getting eaten, fragment by fragment.
The process was pulling him back, forcing him to regress.
He could see flashes of that mute, deaf, identity-less, helpless baby he once was.
No.
I won't go back.
He clenched his teeth, nails digging into the side of the mask as his body regressed even more.
He would never return to that state.
Never again.
He stumbled toward a nearby pool of water, the reflection faint in the dim light.
What he saw staring back wasn't the man he once was.
He looked younger.
Much younger. His glorious mustache was gone, he could feel it.
He felt unfamiliar, but it wasn't because of the mask he's wearing.
He felt hollow, no not spiritually, but viscerally hollow. He could barely control his power. Every attempt to use his powers only sped up the regression, pulling him closer to that unwanted infancy.
His clothes and cloak now hung from his shoulders like a child wearing his father's clothes.
He couldn't waste time.
Truth be told, Yhwach was getting calmer and calmer now that he's collected his thoughts and gaslighted himself into thinking this is normal.
Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate.
He quickly stripped naked, ignoring the sting of cold air against his skin. His bloodstained clothes and Lee's gun, Micah's revolver, his Quincy cross, his medallion, all of it.
He gathered it in a bundle and hid it beneath the roots of a nearby tree. He pressed his palms into the dirt, marking the spot in his mind.
He turned his back on the mound of dirt and started running in the opposite direction.
The night was cold, air sharp in his lungs. Judging by the moon's position and the quiet hum of cicadas, it was past midnight.
He moved fast, barefoot. His senses, though weaker, still helped him, he could feel faint traces of life ahead.
If this were still the same walker-ridden world, he'd soon find out.
.
..
...
But it wasn't.
He reached the outskirts of a village, lanterns and lamps glowing against wooden walls. No rot, no decay, no moaning walkers. Only the faint smell of sake.
He slipped through an alleyway and found a man lying beneath a torn blanket.
A homeless man, shivering in his sleep.
Yhwach hesitated only for a brief second. Then his hand grabbed a nearby rock.
And hit the man on his head repeatedly until the motherfucking homeless guy died.
He absorbed the soul and stripped the body, putting on the filthy rags, the stench of sweat and sake clinging to his skin.
For the first time in centuries, Yūhabahha the Almighty looked like nothing more than a lost, starving child hiding from the cold.
The memories he pulled from that man's soul only confirmed it. The language the man knows, the setting, the lack of reishi in the air.
This is Japan.
He wasn't in America anymore.
He wasn't in that world anymore.
And judging by the clothes, the smell of sake, the structures, and the memories of the man of a world untouched by technology or plague, this was far, far earlier. Somewhere in the early 1900s.
"From America to Japan... across time itself. What a joke."
He didn't know how or why.
But the Hollow had kidnapped him from one world to another and dropped him here like discarded trash. without any explanation.
But none of that mattered now. His body was still deteriorating. Every second he stood around doing nothing, the regression worsened. His limbs felt weaker, smaller. He could almost feel his mind folding inward, trying to retreat into that cold, dead infant state he swore he'd never return to.
He was still expressionless, he continued to move forward relentlessly.
I had once known nothing, yet slowly, I found my voice.
I had twice been blind, yet slowly, I learned to weep for the world.
I had once been empty, yet slowly, I began to understand sorrow.
I had once been still, yet slowly, I became able to withstand everything.
All I have left is an expressionless face, my gaze is as tough as a monolith, only perseverance remains in my heart.
And now!
He needed to stop monologuing and find shelter. Fast.
He staggered through the empty streets, following faint images of memory he'd taken from the beggar's soul.
A house... a familiar place, a relative or friend, maybe... someone who owed him something.
He found the house not far from the edge of the village, its lights dim and voices slurred behind walls. The door was unlatched, weakly held by a single hinge.
He pushed it open and stopped.
Two men sat inside, Their faces were red from too much sake, half empty bottles clutched in their hands. They didn't even notice him at first in their drunkardness.
But Yhwach's focus was on something else. He reached out for a barely filled sake bottle on the floor, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.
and he jumped them, hitting the first guy with all his strength, breaking that sake bottle upon impact, immediately swirling around the bottle's now sharp edges directly into that guy's throat.
The second guy's ugly face widened in sheer horror but before he could even muster a shout, Yhwach grabbed another sake bottle and repeated the process towards the ugly motherfucker.
He stood there for a long moment, and then he dropped to his knees.
Pain tore through his head, it was so damn painful. His bones began to creak, shrinking, compressing. His skin itched and burned. His heart was racing in his ear.
Slower...
Damn you.
Slower...
Damn you.
Smaller.
Damn you, disgusting filthy parasitic hollow.
The rags he stole slipped from his shoulders. The glass bottle covered in blood dropped from his hand. His breathing quickened and became shallow until it came out as weak gasps.
Not... again...
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!!"
He screamed, but the voice that left him was higher and so much softer, he could barely call it his own.
The world spun. His vision blurred.
He recalled an image of himself and Jugram Haschwalth for an indescribable reason.
You'll survive.
And then, with a dull crack, the hollow mask fused to his face loosened... and fell hitting the wooden floor.
The last thing Yhwach saw before darkness claimed him was the faint reflection of a child in the broken sake bottle's reflection.
A boy younger than Clementine, lying naked beneath the pale glow of a lantern.
Then everything went silent.
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The next afternoon...
The village was filled with murmurs and whispers of what happened last night, someone had discovered a dead body while they were heading to their workplace. Startled, they screamed and one thing led to another, until the local police force got involved.
Upon further investigation, They were startled to discover another pair of bodies some distance away inside a house.
"Sir... you need to see this."
At the far side of the room, was a baby no older than few months old at most. Naked beneath the filthy cloth, his small chest rose and fell slowly.
When Yhwach was born, his body was all mustache. Prove me wrong.
Next to him, on the wooden floor, lay a strange mask. It wasn't shaped like any tengu or festival mask they'd ever seen, white and bone-like.
One of the officers carefully picked it up with a handkerchief, turning it over. It was light, like porcelain, but too smooth, too lifelike. He frowned.
"This isn't from here."
Another one stepped closer to the child. "He's alive. Barely."
"Get a blanket. Quickly."
By late evening, more officers had arrived at the crime scenes and they sealed off the area. Villagers gathered outside, whispering amongst themselves, muttering about yōkai and curses. A few said it was the work of a demon but the officers quickly disregarded it.
It couldn't be a demon attack since a demon would have eaten the humans and why the fuck would they strip naked a homeless guy??? let alone kill them with a rock to the head.
Eventually, the local supervisor from the district police arrived at the scene.
Inspector Yamato was a tall man in his forties with a cigarette always hanging from his lips. He looked once at the bodies, then at the reports being written by his subordinates.
"So," he said flatly, "we have three dead. One beggar was struck with a rock near the alleyway and two in this house, killed using sake bottles..?"
His voice turned peculiar at the end.
"Yes, sir, almost no delay between the time of their death, No signs of robbery. Whoever did this, they knew where to hit and were very swift."
Yamato squatted down beside the baby, who had been wrapped in a blanket. His eyes lingered on the mask lying beside him.
"And this?"
"We don't know, sir. Doesn't match anything local. it isn't a tengu mask, so we suspect a newly established cult carried out a ritual homicide."
"Mark the area. I want every inch checked. Find out where the baby came from. and who his mother is. and find me the one responsible for this homicide, regardless of whether they are a cult or not."
As the men began their work, the inspector turned back towards the baby. The child was sleeping now, his breathing soft and steady, almost peaceful despite the chaos around him.
"Something's not right here," he muttered with a frown. Since arriving here he felt a sense of unease. "Not right at all."
Outside, the villagers watched as the officers carried the bodies away. The baby, wrapped tightly in a thick cloth, was taken toward the small police post for safekeeping.
A few hours later, the night had already fallen and it was already time for dinner, but the small police post at the center of the village was still uneasy about the recent murders.
Inspector Yamato stood near the doorway, cigarette between his fingers, eyes fixed on the doctor kneeling beside the child.
Dr. Tanimura was an old physician, the kind every countryside district had. His hands were steady, but his brow furrowed as he examined the infant's body, pressing gently along the ribs, the neck, the forehead.
"Well?" Yamato asked finally, voice low. "Any wounds?"
The doctor shook his head slowly. "None. No injury, not a scratch. Whatever happened there doesn't seem to have affected the boy."
He hesitated, then continued, his tone uncertain. "But... something's wrong."
Yamato stepped closer. "Wrong?"
Tanimura nodded grimly. "He can't see. His eyes don't respond to light. His ears can't hear anything. I called, clapped, not even a simple reaction. His body doesn't move. No reflexes, no grasp, no cry. It's as if his nerves don't... connect or well, he couldn't move them."
The inspector frowned, exhaling smoke toward the window. "So you're telling me he's alive, but disabled?"
"In a sense, yes" the doctor murmured. "He breathes, and he's healthy, but that's all."
The baby lay there, still and silent, his small chest rising and falling so faintly it was barely visible. And yet, there was something strange in the air, something neither man could name.
Tanimura looked at the inspector and wanted to say something else, but didn't have the courage to say anything. Yamato noticed this.
"What is it?" Yamato asked.
The doctor blinked, staring at him. "My back... I've had pain for months. It's gone."
Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Gone?"
Tanimura nodded slowly, he lowered his voice, almost whisper-like, "And more than that... I feel lighter. My chest doesn't ache anymore. I haven't felt this well in years."
Yamato said nothing for a long moment. Then, he ground the cigarette out against the windowsill and looked back at the infant.
"Are you implying this baby healed you?"
"I... I don't know what to say, sir. But when I touched him, I felt... warm. Clear-headed. Even my Insomnia went away."
Yamato frowned, contemplating if Tanimura had gone senile but that unease he felt from before had only intensified after hearing him out. His gaze lingered on Tanimura's face before he shifted to look at the baby. After a long pause. He let out a breath sigh.
Regardless of whether Tanimura is senile now… I can only confirm it myself to see if he is telling the truth.
Yamato crouched down beside the baby and reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the child's forehead.
The effect felt immediate.
A sudden warmth spread through his body. It wasn't burning or painful, just pure relief. His lungs, scarred from years of smoking, suddenly opened with ease. The tightness in his throat vanished. When he took a breath, it came clean, no rasp, no cough. Nothing.
He blinked, staring down at his hand as if it no longer belonged to him.
"What in the actual fuckity fuck..."
Yamato wasn't a man who believed in superstitions or miracles, but this truly made him question his own beliefs.
"Told you."
Yamato didn't answer at first. He looked down at the baby again. The boy hadn't moved, hadn't reacted at all, he just laid there… Menacingly.
"My lungs..." he muttered quietly. "I've been smoking for twenty years. Always woke up coughing, throat hurting..." He stopped, taking another deep breath.
This breath of fresh air was exhilarating to him.
"But now it's gone."
"It's as I said... A miracle." Tanimura murmured with an awe inspiring look towards that baby.
Yamato ignored Tanimura. His eyes fixated on the baby and studied his face more closely. "You can't see, can't hear, can't move," he said quietly, almost to himself. "And yet... you can do something so miraculous it goes against anything that I had previously believed."
What are you? a demon? the devil? The incarnation of Buddha?
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his notepad, flipping it open. His hand trembled slightly as he wrote.
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An infant was found at the crime scene alongside a strange white mask. No physical injury. Exhibits an unknown healing effect.
Subjects in contact experience rapid physical recovery. Further observation required for potential side effects.
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He closed the notebook, tucking it away. There were some things he wanted to mention, but he'd rather keep them to himself.
"Doctor," he said, rising to his feet, "keep this between us. If word gets out, the villagers will start talking about spirits, blessings, maybe even demons. We don't need that right now."
Tanimura nodded, still staring at the baby.
"Understood, Inspector. But what will you do with him?"
Yamato looked toward the shoji door, the light of the moon filtering through.
"For now... we keep him here. I'll need you to take care of him, since I trust you'll honor our agreement in the meantime, make sure no one else touches him."
"Ok."
But as he turned around to leave, he couldn't help glancing back one last time.
The baby still hadn't moved, hadn't made a sound. He didn't know whether this was a curse or a blessing.
For them, it's a blessing
for the poor baby; it's a curse.
Yamato stopped and thought for a moment about his next move.
Should I...
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What does [S.C] Inspector Yamato do?
A) Report everything to his higher-ups/Hand him over.
Yamato sends word to the Japanese government. Within days, they take the baby alongside the mask away without a word. The village is told nothing.
B) Tell no one. Keep the incident quiet until he understands what's happening.
He tells the doctor to forget what he saw and locks the station for the night. He doesn't write a report. The murder file stays open but unsolved.
C) Use the child as bait to catch whoever did the murders
He lets word spread that the infant ████████, hoping to provoke whoever committed the murders.
D) Ask Dr. Tanimura to study the child in secret.
They will experiment on the baby's condition over the coming days.
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Next Chapter: The Miracle Child
Author: So Zaegar, how do you feel about Yhwach's new situation?
Zaegar:
Choose wisely... Every Decision Counts.