| The Cyber Ascension | Volume 6 | Arc 6 — " The Zenōnuke Clan and the 2nd Heaven "
Chapter 63 : " The King of Hell, Sanji Youta "
Hell did not sit below the worlds.
It loomed above them—like a starving god leaning over its prey.
The sky was no sky at all, but a vast sheet of torn flesh, stretched thin across a void of screaming darkness.
Every few seconds, something moved behind it…
something big enough to make the heavens ripple.
A blood-moon hung in that sky, swollen and diseased, dripping thick red tears that sizzled when they hit the ground.
The land below responded.
Because Hell was alive.
The earth throbbed like a heart.
The buildings—if they could be called buildings—were hollowed torsos and skulls fused together, stacked until their jaws cracked.
Some walls still had eyes, rolling endlessly, watching.
Some cried.
Some whispered to passersby.
The air tasted like copper and burning nerves.
Breathing felt like inhaling needles.
Hell existed to break the mind long before it broke the body.
---
Inside a Pulsing Crimson Fortress
Two Sukuanoki soldiers stood guard before the throne hall.
They pretended to be calm.
They weren't.
Their armor vibrated slightly—because the fortress around them breathed.
Sukuanoki Soldier 1
(voice low)
"…There's someone even His Majesty fears."
Sukuanoki Soldier 2
(eyes dead, whisper trembling)
"Zenōnuke Zenjiro…
The Silent Nightmare Reaper."
The moment that name left his mouth—
The organs embedded in the walls twitched violently.
Veins crawled like worms.
Blood pooled upward instead of downward, swirling into spirals.
The shadows along the hall stretched… thin… like necks being pulled.
Even Hell didn't want to hear that name.
Zenjiro was not a man.
He was a memory that Hell had lost and still feared.
---
On the Highest Flesh-Throne
The throne was nearly nine meters tall—
a grotesque sculpture of titan bones, melted muscle, and mutilated faces whose jaws were forced open forever.
Upon it sat a man.
Sanji Youta.
The King of Hell.
His pale skin glowed faintly under the blood-moon.
His whitish-grey hair fell like dead ash.
His armor, blackened crimson, still dripped with the souls it devoured centuries ago.
His aura…
It didn't "emanate."
It pressed—
a suffocating weight that made the fortress tremble as if trying to crawl away from him.
Sanji stared with dead boredom at an ancient witch holding up a mirror—
a mirror that showed the Zenōnuke Clan hideout.
Z was sleeping.
Casually.
Peacefully.
Using his Shinurai as a pillow.
Sanji's dead expression cracked.
Something hungry awakened in his eyes.
Sanji Youta
(low, spine-freezing)
"…Oi.
Is that the same brat who slaughtered our Red Knight?"
The soldier swallowed, throat swelling as if something invisible squeezed it.
Soldier
"Yes, King Youta. That is Z."
For a moment, the air went still.
Then Sanji smiled.
It was the kind of smile seen on a creature that had forgotten what mercy tasted like.
Sanji Youta
"…Interesting.
Maybe I should go meet him myself."
He didn't rise.
He unfolded—like something wrong, something jointed too many times, stretching out of itself.
The fortress walls recoiled.
The stairs beneath him cracked and bled.
He walked downward.
Down.
Down.
Down into a darkness that swallowed him whole.
And vanished.
The soldiers were left alone—to understand fear.
Soldier
(whisper barely audible)
"…He's really going.
He's going to the 2nd Heaven…"
Even Hell seemed to hold its breath.
---
2nd Heaven — Zenōnuke Clan Hideout
A place too peaceful.
Too normal.
Z slept on a rock, chest rising calmly.
Kanizake yelled at everyone, voice echoing in the air.
Kiyoshi poked Haruko.
Haruko smacked him.
Eirien sipped tea like he was watching a slice-of-life episode.
None of them felt it.
None of them sensed the horror crossing realms at that very moment.
None of them knew—
The King of Hell was already coming.
And he was smiling.
---