Anime Crossover: Tokyo Reincarnation Game — Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Bloated Corpse Spirit

Yuuki Asuna’s expression hardened. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the hilt of the Exorcist’s Longsword, her amber eyes darting toward the source of the wet, dragging sound.

It was coming from the hotel elevators.

A perfect blueprint of the ground floor flashed across her mind. With her pristine memory, mapping out the architecture of the lobby had been effortless. Tracing the route in her head, she realized that the path from the maintenance room—where the main water tank sat—to the front reception desk fed directly past those elevator doors.

Which meant the source of the anomaly, the rotting thing that had been festering inside the drinking supply, was finally coming out to play.

Asuna drew in a slow, measured breath, forcing her racing heart to steady. Despite her discipline, a faint tremor rattled her hands. The gruesome image of the player who had consumed that tainted water was still burned into her retinas—a violent, bloody rupture of flesh and bone that defied all medical logic.

If a mere sip of that water could detonate a human body from the inside out…

Just how grotesque was the true form of the creature producing it?

“Violet. Necro. Get your protective gear on.”

Asagiri’s calm, commanding voice sliced through her rising dread, snapping Asuna back to the present. She immediately dug into her pockets, pulling out a pair of plastic safety goggles and a cheap disposable mask. She strapped them over her face, then quickly wedged two small wads of cotton into her ears.

They had scavenged the goggles from the staff breakroom, the mask from an abandoned guest suite, and the earplugs were simply torn from standard cotton swabs.

The survival APP did not recognize these mundane items as official equipment. They offered zero statistical defense, and they certainly wouldn’t carry over into the next dungeon, but right now, physical barriers were better than nothing.

Suitably shielded, Asuna exhaled through the thin fabric of her mask, her gaze locked on the shadows stretching out from the elevator bay.

From their vantage point behind the polished mahogany of the reception desk, the three of them couldn’t see the corridor itself. They could only listen. The sickening squelch and slap of heavy, waterlogged footsteps echoed across the marble, drawing closer with agonizing slowness.

When the architect of their nightmare finally dragged itself into the lobby lights, Asuna’s breath hitched. No amount of mental preparation could have braced her for the sheer visual assault.

It was a towering, swollen monstrosity, easily pushing three meters in height. It wore a tattered white hospital gown that clung to its bloated, waxy flesh. Long, greasy strands of pitch-black hair plastered against its face, trailing down to smear across the pristine floor tiles. The creature looked exactly like a drowned corpse left to rot in stagnant water for weeks, its skin stretched taut over accumulated gases.

With every lumbering step, a foul, viscous fluid squeezed out from its pores. Even from twenty meters away, and even through the filter of her mask, the putrid stench of decayed meat and stagnant sewage hit Asuna and Iwanaga Kotoko like a physical blow, forcing both girls to grimace.

“Oh? So you’re the little anomaly polluting my drinking water?”

Without a hint of hesitation, Asagiri vaulted over the edge of the reception desk. He landed atop the counter with effortless grace, looking down at the massive Evil Spirit with a gaze of utter, deadpan contempt.

“Instead of scurrying away the second you sensed me, you actually waddle right into my line of sight? I applaud your sheer stupidity. It’s the only impressive thing about you.”

As he spoke, the heavy, metallic weight of his black firearm materialized in his grip.

He slowly raised the cold steel barrel, pressing the muzzle flush against his own temple. His eyes ignited, shifting into a piercing, brilliant gold. Without a flinch, his index finger squeezed the trigger.

“Persona…”

“Demi-Fiend.”

A sharp crack echoed through the lobby. A halo of crimson light erupted behind Asagiri’s back, tearing a rift in the air. From the bloody luminescence stepped a towering, humanoid shadow well over two meters tall. Jagged, glowing red lines pulsed across its dark skin like exposed veins of magma.

The moment the syllables left Asagiri’s lips, the Demi-Fiend launched itself off the marble floor. It closed the distance to the Bloated Corpse Spirit with a terrifying, explosive speed that completely defied its massive, muscular bulk.

in the world of pure, unadulterated close-quarters brutality, the Demi-Fiend was a Persona without equal.

“I’ll back you up—”

“Hold it.”

Just as Asuna shifted her weight to lunge over the counter, Asagiri dropped down beside her. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around her slender wrist. He didn’t even look at her, simply shaking his head.

“Don’t rush in.”

“Fine. Understood.”

Though she hated being sidelined, Asuna knew better than to question his tactical judgment in the heat of a fight. She nodded, lowering her blade slightly.

By then, the Demi-Fiend had already closed the gap.

It didn’t roar. It didn’t posture. It simply drew back a massive fist and drove a brutal, unadorned straight punch directly into the center of the Bloated Corpse Spirit’s face.

Bang!!!

The sheer kinetic force of the blow caved the monster’s cheek inward. The rotting flesh ruptured like an overripe melon, spraying a massive geyser of putrid, gray-green fluid across the lobby. The moment the liquid hit the air, the ambient stench multiplied tenfold.

“…God, that smell…”

Even Asuna, who rigidly maintained the elegant composure of a high-society heiress, instinctively clamped her free hand over her masked nose. Thank god for the plastic goggles; the foul miasma hanging in the air was so acidic it would have burned her eyes shut.

“So, physical trauma causes the pressurized fluids inside its body to violently rupture. It is essentially a walking, rotting water balloon.”

Beside the gagging swordswoman, Iwanaga Kotoko stood perfectly still. The petite girl observed the gruesome spectacle with cold, analytical detachment, her tone as casual as if she were discussing the weather.

“Given its bloated physiology, this is undoubtedly the original cadaver that was dumped into the hotel’s main water tank. It spreads its curse through the plumbing because microscopic fragments of its decaying mass are dissolved in the supply. To put it bluntly, it’s weaponized corpse water.”

“Just hearing you describe it out loud makes my stomach turn,” Asuna muttered, fighting down a wave of nausea.

“Disgusting? Perhaps. But I’ve long since grown immune to such parlor tricks.”

Kotoko raised her wooden cane, pointing the tip toward the violent brawl unfolding across the room. Her brow furrowed slightly.

“The biological hazard is too concentrated. Engaging it in melee range is tactical suicide. And look closely, Asuna. The corpse water erupting from its wounds isn’t just foul—it’s highly corrosive.”

Following the line of Kotoko’s cane, Asuna squinted through her goggles. Her breath caught. Wherever the gray-green fluid had splashed against the Demi-Fiend’s dark skin, the demonic flesh was aggressively sizzling and melting away. A significant chunk of the Persona’s skull had already dissolved into hissing steam.

“Urrghh!!!”

A wet, gurgling shriek tore from the Bloated Corpse Spirit’s ruined throat. It lunged forward, extending two swollen, waterlogged arms to clamp down on the Demi-Fiend’s broad shoulders. Its jaw unhinged to an impossible, grotesque angle. A torrential flood of dark green acid vomited directly from its maw, washing over the Persona’s upper body.

Flesh hissed and boiled. Yet, before the corrosive acid could entirely melt its form away, the Demi-Fiend channeled its remaining strength into one final, devastating strike. Its right arm blurred forward, punching a clean, gaping hole straight through the center of the Bloated Corpse Spirit’s bloated stomach.

No blood spilled from the massive wound. It was an Evil Spirit, untethered by mortal biology. A hole in the gut was a severe inconvenience, but hardly a fatal execution.

“Cough… cough…”

Behind the desk, Asagiri let out two harsh, dry coughs. His tall frame swayed, leaning heavily against the mahogany counter for a fraction of a second.

Asuna’s eyes widened. She suddenly recalled the brutal caveat of Asagiri’s exclusive talent: if a summoned Persona was destroyed in combat, the violent feedback would instantly drain a massive chunk of the user’s physical stamina and mental fortitude.

She stepped forward, reaching out to support his shoulder.

But before her fingers could even brush his coat, Asagiri straightened his posture. His expression remained a mask of cold, unyielding dominance. He raised the gun-shaped summoner once more, pressing the cold steel barrel flush against his temple.

“Persona…”

“Demi-Fiend.”