Chapter 64

Prologue Paris, France. People gathered on the banks of the Seine flowing through the city center to enjoy a weekend afternoon. Tourists took in the scenery while strolling. Young artists held sketchbooks. Couples flirted on the benches. Old folks chatted over coffee. Everyone had smiles on their faces; even the ones who were unemployed and complaining to each other lacked a somber air of sorrow. The country was finally showing signs of recovery after a long recession. The effects of the J-nocide—the sudden collapse of Japan—four years prior had been detrimental to the international economy. Logistics were in chaos, exports declined, and there were industrial supply shortages globally, not to mention the military expenses for the Japanese Hunt—many countries were in a bad financial spot. Even though its economic power was not in its prime, Japan held one sixty-fourth of the global population that went extinct in a matter of months. Even faraway countries in Europe could not go unscathed. However, four years had passed since the J-nocide, and the world was beginning to recover from the loss of Japan. Logistics had picked back up, job opportunities were rising along with the stock market, and one could find more smiles out in the streets. As the memory of the country of Japan faded away, the threat of the Moujuu began to feel like a fairy tale about a faraway world. It was around then that a certain Japanese streamer’s account vanished from a major video website. “I think she really got banned. I only pull up fakes on my searches.” A young man was sitting on a grassy bank with his smartphone in hand. He sighed. The search window on his phone screen showed the name “Iroha Waon.” “Oh, that Japanese girl? I heard she could summon dragons.” The man’s friend was mocking her. Both of them wore replica uniforms of the local soccer team. The man had the number 7 on his back, and his friend had jersey 33. “I don’t know about dragons, but it looks like it’s true that she can tame Moujuu. There are lots of photos of her riding a giant monster,” Number 7 replied solemnly and calmly. Jersey 33 sighed. “It’s gotta be ’shopped.” “But Yamadou’s the source.” His friend pensively tapped his chin. Yamadou was a streamer who specialized in exposés. He had made a name for himself by revealing the ugly truths behind entrepreneurs, celebrities, politicians, and even government and religious organizations. He was criticized for his aggressive methods, but he had credibility. Surely he wouldn’t slander a nameless streamer without irrefutable evidence. Doubly so when it was a fellow Japanese person. “Moujuu tamer or not, it’s a shame her account is gone. She was so cute.” Jersey 33 shook his head mournfully. Number 7 nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she had a cute face. Her videos were boring, though.” “Yup. But she was cute.” They chuckled. They reminisced on Iroha Waon’s dull yet endearing videos, then winced when a shrill scream came from behind them. It didn’t sound like something from a minor accident or plain surprise. It was something serious. “Wait, what’s that?” Number 7 stood up on reflex. His gaze was set on a bizarre, unworldly shadow, the size of a small car. Its silhouette resembled a bipedal animal’s. The dark form leaped silently and crushed the woman who was shrieking and running away. Her head burst like ripe fruit, scattering flesh and blood all around. “What’s that black animal? A bear…?” The man muttered, frozen in place. The dark monster did resemble a giant grizzly. However, it was obvious this was no regular bear. No bear was three meters tall with the head of a tiger and the horns of a bull. “A Moujuu?! In France?!” “Don’t ask, just run!” “R-right!” His friend pushed him ahead and they dashed away. What in the world was happening in France? There was no time to check. They had to get out of there. These mysterious monsters had decimated Japan. Just one of them could overpower a fully armed soldier, and a group could destroy a military troop. The men knew about them, of course. But seeing one in the flesh was an entirely different matter. Japan was over eight thousand kilometers away from Paris; he could have never foreseen one appearing here. The fear pushed them to run for their lives. They had no destination in mind. They simply wanted to get as far away from the Moujuu as possible. Then, a car in their path flew up into the sky. A monster ran over from the other side, mowing down the trees along the street. This Moujuu looked like a giant horse with eight legs. “Shit, there’s another one!” “Where are they coming from?!” The two men stopped in place, their faces twisted in fright. It wasn’t just one Moujuu in Paris. Car horns and crashes filled the streets, and smoke plumes rose as fires burned all over the city. The Moujuu were the source of the chaos. All of Paris was under attack. A police officer ran to the sound of the screaming and shot at the horse Moujuu. None of the bullets missed, and yet the monster seemed to feel no pain. Even so, it perceived the officer’s hostility. It let out an eerie roar before tackling and trampling the officer. People screamed in response to the brutal scene, but the next moment, something changed in their despairing expressions. Bones creaked and cracked as they took inhuman shapes. They took on the dreadful appearance of the Moujuu. “People are turning into Moujuu?!” “So the rumors were true…!” The soccer uniform–clad men screeched. The Moujuu had been humans all along. The dragons’ emergence in this world transformed the people. That rumor was the talk of the internet for a time. The source of it appeared to be a PMC security guard deployed in Japan. Video proof was shared, but out of nowhere, the rumors vanished. Unnaturally so. But now, a scene just like that deleted video was replaying right before their eyes. “We… We gotta run…” His friend pushed him forward again, but the man stayed in place. He was frozen by the sight of what emerged behind the people undergoing transformation on that downtown Parisian street. “What the…?” A pitch-black stain spread slowly over the ground, like a gigantic ink spill. The darkness absorbed the cars and buildings around as it encroached on the city itself. It was no stain—it was a hole. A cavity connected to an endless abyss. “The Ploutonion…!” The men wailed in despair. They had no idea what was behind the Ploutonion’s emergence, nor that this phenomenon was not isolated to Paris. London, Berlin, Madrid, Rome, Delhi, Beijing—the gates to the underworld were appearing in densely populated areas all over the globe. The only thing they were certain of was that this was only the beginning. The beginning of the end. The real disaster was yet to come. They shivered at the thought of the apocalypse as they stared blankly at the giant pit swallowing their world.