Chapter 131: The End of Japan

"Mr. John..."

Stuy’s eyes were filled with an unnatural, stagnant red, like a swirling pool of red ink. The mere sight of it was enough to strike terror into the heart of anyone who beheld it.

In that instant, John realized exactly what kind of situation he was in.

John Folsom, a political elite under forty, born into one of America’s most prominent political families, held dual master’s degrees from Harvard and Yale. He had endured grueling training in the Marine Corps, finishing first in his class at the boot camp. He exercised for two hours every day, combining aerobic and anaerobic workouts, maintained a perfect diet, slept well, stood 1.83 meters tall, weighed 75 kilograms, and possessed a well-defined six-pack.

For decades, he had believed himself to be among the top hundred most exceptional individuals on this planet.

Yet, in this moment, seeing the bizarre transformation of his personal secretary, John was plunged into uncontrollable horror. His pupils dilated. He reached out his hand, desperate to push Stuy away—

"FUUUUUUCK!"

Amidst his frantic roar, John saw his outstretched hand frozen in mid-air, as if caught in a still photograph.

It was not due to frozen space or any similar phenomenon; rather, thin, delicate red threads were emerging from Stuy’s body, binding his hands firmly and rendering him unable to move.

Furthermore, as the red threads spread, these slender lines wrapped around his entire body like nimble little snakes, tightly sealing the sound in his throat. Despite the look of sheer terror in his eyes, the red threads continued to invade his body, millimeter by millimeter.

He could not utter a word.
He could not perform a single action.
He had become a complete prisoner.

"Mmm... mmm..."

John struggled frantically within this cocoon, desperate to make even the slightest sound. He tried with all his might to signal the pilot in the front seat of the helicopter to turn around and notice the situation.

However—the pilot did turn around, but the sight that met John’s eyes plunged him into even deeper despair.

The pilot’s body remained motionless beneath his neck, but his head had rotated one hundred and eighty degrees. He looked at John with crimson eyes and smiled.

John finally gave up struggling. He stopped making futile efforts.

Right in front of him, "Stuy," using the voice of a young girl, slightly eased the control over John’s face, allowing him to speak.

Then, she asked calmly:

"Mr. John, do you remember ten years ago, at the border between Yokohama and Yokosuka, killing a Japanese police officer named Hiromi Ito?"

A flash of realization crossed John’s face, as if he finally understood the motive of Mio Ito. He stared intently at Mio, who was using Stuy’s face to question him, and revealed a self-deprecating smile:

"I see—is this why you wanted to destroy the Yokosuka base and kill me? Avenging one’s father is a good reason; it wouldn’t even feel out of place in a 21st Century Fox movie—fine, I accept that reason."

However, facing John, who was filled with indignation, Mio Ito’s voice remained void of any fluctuations. There was no emotional conflict of someone about to slay their enemy.

No joy.
No hatred.
No regret.
No happiness.

"You killed my father."

Mio Ito gazed at him as if confirming the fact, her words spoken in a purely declarative tone.

"How did you feel when you killed him? Did you feel regret? Or remorse? Or perhaps nothing at all, just like crushing a stray dog that stood in your way?"

The girl asked with a smile, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"..."

John looked at Mio Ito in silence.

After a long while, his nostrils flared slightly, and the left corner of his mouth curled upward:

"...I don't harbor any emotions about killing an East Asian—would you regret kicking a stray dog to death on the side of the road?"

"Oh."

Mio Ito laughed with understanding.

John’s body was instantly covered by red threads. Every soul and memory within him merged into Mio Ito’s body.

And so, she confirmed that John had not lied.

High above, the helicopter disintegrated with a roar. Thousands of red threads extended downward, like a ladder leading to heaven. Whether it was the pilot, Stuy, or John himself, they had all melted into a part of Mio Ito, leaving no gap between them.

This included the naval base on the ground and the crews of all the warships; as long as they were alive, they had all merged into Mio Ito herself.

In that instant, Mio Ito felt an unprecedented silence.

From Tokyo to the Yokosuka naval base, her perception became one.

Having ascended to such heights, the part of her that was once "human" grew increasingly thin within her soul, replaced by a crystallized obsession and a superior, detached perspective.

"Father..."

In mid-air, Mio Ito stepped upon the void, recalling the words she had just heard from John, and revealed a profoundly tranquil smile.

"...Do you see? The laws you upheld were merely products of limitation; the morality you guarded was actually fragile and insignificant... and your death, which you thought led to justice, was actually for a somewhat laughable reason."

"...So, from now on, I will completely cast aside the commandments you set for me—I will establish my own laws, my own kingdom... and an infinitely perfect world that can only exist by my permission."

"...But in this world, humanity itself is not a necessary thing."

The girl gently raised her hand.

In the next instant, the human form she had been maintaining dissipated with a roar.

From this moment on, the tide of blood covering all of Tokyo merged with the tide of blood at the Yokosuka naval base. Within the vast scarlet kingdom, there no longer existed a single life form with a human shape.

One day later.

The tide of blood continued to expand, incorporating the surrounding prefectures of Yamanashi and Saitama. Within the kingdom of blood, human forms collapsed, and everything returned to calm.

Meanwhile, the surviving middle class in Japan began to flee to countries around the world, applying for exit visas, and those who could not leave attempted to flee the Japanese mainland even in small boats.

Three days later, most of the land on Honshu island was completely covered by the tide of blood.

The panic of the Japanese people in other regions grew even more intense; those who could not escape either trembled in fear or began to kill one another, with violent crimes occurring constantly.

Five days later, Honshu was entirely shrouded in the tide of blood. At the same time, the United States, unable to contain its fear, bypassed international consensus and became the first to drop several multi-megaton strategic nuclear weapons on the Japanese mainland.

Countries around the world had intended to condemn this act, but the final result left everyone silent.

Those multi-megaton nuclear weapons were detonated by an inexplicable force while still in the stratosphere, thousands of kilometers above Japan, disintegrating in the high air and turning into giant fireballs. The tide of blood remained unharmed. Instead, the United States itself suffered the largest blizzard in history in early spring due to the atmospheric disturbances caused by the explosion of those nuclear bombs.

Countries around the world began to watch and wait, not daring to act rashly.

Half a month later, the movement of the tide of blood began to gradually stagnate. Although it crossed the sea to incorporate Shikoku and Kyushu into its territory, once these large islands became part of the tide, it stopped extending and remained there, advancing no further.

At first, the world only dared to watch from afar. But after another half month passed, then a month, two months... upon confirming that the tide of blood had finally stabilized and was no longer expanding, they cautiously began to take action.

Multinational troops landed on Hokkaido, the only remaining island in Japan. Across the Tsugaru Strait, they gazed at that crimson kingdom, but no one dared to sail warships to land on the Japanese mainland.

The international community passed a resolution designating the waters within a hundred kilometers of the former Japanese soil covered by the tide of blood as a forbidden zone, closed to navigation and fishing.

As for the name "Japan," it had become a term of history—even Hokkaido, the only part remaining, became a region under international joint administration.

Of course, despite strict warnings, there were still those driven by curiosity who wanted to land on the old Japanese soil to see that mysterious land of blood.

Most people with such a strong spirit of adventure went and never returned.

However, occasionally, a few lucky ones managed to return safely while still a few nautical miles from the "Old Land."

But those lucky few were mostly dazed, their minds somewhat unhinged.

According to them, the "Old Land" was filled with blood-red everywhere, with inhuman life forms moving about—some covered in tentacles, others torn apart.

Yet, regardless of how distorted their appearances were, those life forms all appeared incredibly harmonious, filled with happiness.

After the adventurers told their stories, they would behave more and more strangely in the following months.

They would yearn deeply for that blood-red land, longing for the inhuman forms within it, their hearts completely filled with a desire for it.

—Until one day, they would silently return to the "Old Land."

And this time, when they went to the "Old Land," they would never come back.

Thus, a proverb spread throughout the world:

"Once you see the red land, you are destined to land on the island—either this time, or the next."

Few people ever witnessed them returning to the "Old Land."

Regarding that scene, only a few secret documents circulated in the world.

However, it is said that when they returned to the "Old Land," others present would often hear a strange, ethereal laughter.

Adding an extra chapter for the Alliance Leader today. There will be one more update, which will be a bit later.

(End of chapter)