The Daily Life of the Demon King

After the shockwave barely missed Alex, he turned his head. His eyes widened for a split second, and a toothy, beastlike grin spread across his face. Standing before him were four figures... four that he had already killed once. Han Chun-Woo. Heihachi Mishima. Akuma. Karl Heisenberg.

Alex immediately understood why he had felt uneasy on Wesker's island in the presence of their corpses. Now it all made sense. The four had returned… but no longer as humans. Their bodies now resembled empty shells filled with demonic energy that sustained their pitiful existence. All that remained of their former selves were scattered fragments of memory.

But what struck Alex most wasn't the quartet of the undead. His eyes were locked on the one standing before them — Ryomen Sukuna, in his final form.

Above his head shone a halo — one of the Ten Sacred Treasures, the very same that allowed Mahoraga to adapt to any threat. But what truly drew Alex's attention were Sukuna's eyes. They were blue... the eyes of the Gojo clan.

The longer Alex stared at Sukuna, the wider his grin grew. To him, Sukuna was nothing more than a thief — a parasite envious of another's strength.

"Ho... The King of Curses. How far you've fallen, Sukuna. Attacking from the shadows? Though I shouldn't be surprised — you're filth. Just a jealous thief," Alex sneered, baring his fangs.

"Talkative savior… You're the one they all whisper about? Annoying. Just like him. The moment I saw you, I wanted to slice you apart," hissed Sukuna, unphased by the provocation.

"Tch, boring. And you, the walking corpses... I see you're still twitching. Not that you'll be saying much," Alex stepped forward and pointed to himself and his companions. "Well then, looks like five versus five. An exhibition match, isn't it, Sukuna?"

"These mindless puppets mean nothing to me. Even without them, I'd gladly tear you apart. I want to see what the so-called strongest in this world is really capable of. So far, all you do is yap," Sukuna replied with contempt, staring down at him.

"I just like to chat with idiots before I kill them. Same with Uraume — first quiet, then completely silent," Alex yawned. "You know, Sukuna… everyone breaks. Torture, death… no one walks away from that unchanged. I wonder if you'll break too… or just keep your tongue still till the end?"

Sukuna's eyes narrowed. He knew Uraume was dead, but not how. Alex wasn't even trying to hide his boredom. He lazily kicked a stone at his feet, and it shot toward Sukuna's head like a bullet… and stopped mid-air.

There was no surprise on Alex's face — he expected Sukuna to use the Limitless Technique, now that he possessed Gojo's Six Eyes. Sukuna scowled, swatted the frozen stone aside, and stared at Alex.

If not for the Limitless, he would've been decapitated.

Sukuna licked his lips, a sinister smile spreading across them.

"Perhaps it's time to change the stage. A bit cramped in here," said Alex, lighting a cigarette. "Wouldn't want to get in my crew's way while they rip apart your resurrected corpses."

"That's your problem, not mine. If you're scared for them... don't bring them," Sukuna smirked, bracing for combat.

"That wasn't a suggestion. It was a command," Alex's voice turned steely. "We're switching locations. Or did you forget your place, filthy mutt?"

The next moment, an immense surge of energy burst from Alex's body, cracking the very walls of the castle. GIR, MIMI, and Stitch exchanged glances — they recognized this level of fury. Silently, the trio put their paws together in a prayer, mourning the fool who had angered their father. Rannak, still seated on his throne, was pinned in place by the crushing pressure, as if a mountain had landed on his shoulders.

Sukuna felt a true rush of battle excitement. But before he could make a move — Alex vanished. The next thing Sukuna sensed was a presence directly behind him. He spun around, ready to activate the Limitless Technique...

But it was too late.

Alex's fist slammed into Sukuna's face with the force of a sledgehammer, flattening his nose. In the same instant, his body was hurled across the hall, blasted through the castle wall, and sent hurtling toward the mountains at terrifying speed.

Alex dusted off his palm and looked at his companions.

"Alright, kids. Those four are yours. Knock yourselves out. And you, Rannak," — Alex turned his gaze to the priest — "you're going to the Red City. Just in case you get any ideas about running. I've got enough problems already."

Rannak didn't understand what Alex meant by "Red City," but the answer came almost immediately.

The shadow beneath Alex's feet began to stretch toward the priest. Before Rannak could even process what was happening, bloodshot eyes stared up at him from the darkness — full of rage, malice, and hunger.

Pale, slender hands shot out from the shadow. They seized the priest, clamping his mouth shut before he could scream. The last thing Rannak saw before he was dragged into the void was Alex's glowing, rainbow-colored eyes burning in the half-darkness.

He wanted to shout, to command the puppets his master had left him, but he couldn't. His mouth was sealed shut.

Alex turned his attention to the four "bodyguards" standing behind. Without orders, they didn't move — like broken toys.

He was about to leave, ready to return to his fight with Sukuna, when he noticed something strange. The bodies of his former opponents began to change. Alex narrowed his eyes — someone else had issued a command.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to figure out who could've interfered, but quickly decided not to waste time.

With a wave to GIR, MIMI, Stitch, and Wolf, Alex disappeared — granting his companions full freedom to act. He knew the four of them could handle the demonic puppets, which no longer retained a shred of their original identities. He wasn't even surprised that Wesker wasn't among them. Alex already knew where that idiot Albert had ended up — and more importantly, what he was being prepared for.

Meanwhile, Sukuna, flung by the devastating punch, crashed into the mountain opposite the castle. His body smashed through the rock, leaving a gaping hole as debris tumbled down behind him. Feeling pain — real, physical pain — he grinned.

"Hah… been a while since I felt that."

Every bone in his body ached. Just one hit, and his entire frame was rattling. Releasing a bit of cursed energy, Sukuna turned the falling stones to dust. He stepped out of the mountain, standing tall. Overhead, the Ten Sacred Treasures spun slowly.

That could mean only one thing — adaptation had begun.

"Interesting… how did he bypass my Infinity? After only seeing it once…" Sukuna muttered, cracking his neck.

"Not that great of a technique, Sukuna. You bypassed it yourself — eventually. I don't even need to think to break through it," came Alex's voice from behind him. "After all, your new master knows how to bypass it too. Or did you think that halo above your head had adapted to everything already?.. Hah… don't make me laugh."

Sukuna whipped around. Alex was calmly sitting on a boulder, lazily holding a cigarette between his fingers.

Smiling, Sukuna formed hand signs and waved his hand.

"Slash That Cuts The World."

An invisible wave of energy tore through the air, slicing everything in its path. Behind Alex, the mountaintop trembled… and began to slide downward, as if cut clean by a colossal blade.

Alex simply exhaled a puff of smoke in Sukuna's direction. Not a scratch on him.

Sukuna frowned. An attack capable of cutting through reality had missed entirely.

Alex's body dissolved into white smoke.

"Don't be surprised, Sukuna," came his voice from nearby. "I simply wasn't there."

Sukuna instantly turned and slashed the air with Dismantle—but a hand grabbed his wrist.

He'd bypassed Infinity again.

Sukuna could feel the technique still active—stones were still hovering around him, unable to touch his body. But this man… this man had broken through that defense a second time, a defense even nature itself couldn't overcome.

"Grit your teeth. Here comes another one," said Alex, tightening his fist.

He struck.

The punch slammed into Sukuna's face with the crunch of breaking bones. Sukuna tried to recoil, but Alex was still holding onto his arm.

Yanking him back, Alex delivered a second punch, smashing his face into the rocky ground.

Letting go of the limp wrist, Alex stepped back, watching the ring of Ten Sacred Treasures rotate slowly once again above Sukuna's head.

He pondered, "I wonder—where's the limit of that adaptation? When will these relics finally break?.. When will he start to fall apart himself?"

Alex was certain: Davoth would never bother fighting Sukuna seriously. What would be the point? To Davoth, Sukuna was just a slightly stronger, more vicious mutt. Maybe with sharp fangs and a few tricks—but still a mutt. And no matter how much power a dog had, it wouldn't change its nature.

Alex knew Davoth. He was a being of promises. Sukuna, though… he craved power. And ambition wasn't something he lacked. Alex wouldn't be surprised at all to learn Sukuna was already plotting to get rid of his current master—completely unaware of just how powerful that master truly was.

If Davoth hadn't taken an interest in Sukuna, the so-called King of Curses would've already been turned into fuel for Jackkad—a source of endless Argent energy.

"Hey, stop pretending you're dead," Alex said lazily, kicking a stone toward Sukuna's body. "That halo above your head gave you away."

"Not a bad hit," Sukuna rasped, slowly rising. Not a single scratch on his body. "But I've realized something—fighting you brings me closer to my goal."

"Oh really?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "And what's your grand goal? World domination? Or do you just want to become so strong no one can step on you or chain you again?"

"Soon I'll tear the leash off myself," Sukuna said quietly. "And you'll help me. This fight with you… it's my path to the next level."

"Hah…" Alex shook his head tiredly. "You're as naïve as a puppy. You think your 'master' ever fought you seriously? You ever hear the fable about the frog in the well, Sukuna? That's you. You look up at the tiny patch of sky above you and think it's the whole world. You can't even comprehend how vast the multiverse is—or what's really going on in it."

Sukuna narrowed his eyes.

"Seems like you know more than the rest, False Savior. Since you love to talk—why not share a little before I devour you?"

"Oh, give it a rest. With your teeth, you wouldn't even get a bite off me," Alex smirked. "And if you really think you can defeat the one holding your leash—then I pity you. He's not just stronger. He's the creator. He made worlds, a race, the world tree—you could call him a god. And you? You're a pathetic thief jealous of what others have. A nothing who forgot his place."

Sukuna's eyes filled with blood.

Those words… They were almost identical to what he'd heard that day—when Davoth destroyed his world. He had said the same thing: "You are nothing—a wretch who doesn't know his place." And then, he gave a choice: serve, or be erased. Sukuna had chosen to serve.

But only now did he begin to understand who he had really allied with. The thing that destroyed his world wasn't a demon or a curse. It was the living concept of creation and destruction—something far beyond comprehension.

Yet there was no fear in Sukuna.

Only greed. A hunger for power that could create. That could give rise to entire races, worlds, continents.

Alex saw the burning desire in his eyes to claim what didn't belong to him—and he couldn't help but laugh.

"You look like a spoiled child," Alex said coldly. "All your life, all you've done is take what belongs to others. Your brother's power—you devoured him in the womb. Yuji's body. Then Megumi's. Satoru's eyes. And even…" Alex cast a glance at Sukuna's hand. "Yuta Okkotsu's ring? Seriously? Even a ring? That's low, even for you."

Sukuna glanced at the ring and smirked.

"You reek of greed and envy," Alex continued. "It's not just part of your soul—it is your soul. You steal because you've never had anything of your own. That's why you can't stop. You envy."

Sukuna burst into laughter. Loud, mad, hoarse.

"Envy? Me? Pfft, hahahaha! You serious? That's hilarious. You really think the strong don't have the right to take what they want? In this world, might makes right. The demons came—and they took. I'm no different. I take because I can. I do because I want.

"Envy is for the weak. And I… am not weak. I'm a king."

Alex didn't even bother listening to the rest—it all sounded like mindless drivel. It would've been hypocritical of him to say that taking from others was wrong. He'd done it himself more than once. But unlike Sukuna, he didn't look like a hurt child desperately trying to prove he mattered. Only those with broken egos and hidden grudges against the world talk like that. To Alex, Sukuna's words were nothing more than pathetic attempts to justify his own worthlessness.

He lifted his gaze to the bright moon hanging above, then shifted it toward Salazar's castle—where the distant sounds of battle echoed. His companions were busy fighting resurrected puppets from the past.

"You know, Sukuna, why I didn't kill you the moment I saw you?" Alex looked at him again. "I was curious what you really were. And now that I've seen… I'm not impressed. Trash is still trash, no matter the world, no matter the power."

"Then show me your full strength. Show me why they're afraid of what you might become. And when you fall—your power will be mine," Sukuna said, eyes locked onto him.

"Killing you is like snapping my fingers. But fine, I'll show you the difference between us. You'll understand why they call me the Demon King," Alex said, his gaze cold and emotionless.

"The False Savior thinks he's a Demon King? Amusing," Sukuna smirked.

"Laugh while you can. Soon you won't be able to. Azepht: Dairo," Alex said calmly, activating the spell.

A magical circle flared beneath his feet, spiraling upward along his body. In that instant, the transformation began. Crimson greaves materialized around his legs, reaching his knees, glowing emerald gems embedded at the center. A long, scale-covered tail burst from his back, ending in a sharp, barbed tip.

Gloves appeared on his hands, resembling dragon claws with emerald-like stones embedded in the palms. Two sharp horns grew from his head, and his hair changed color—from black to crimson. When the transformation was complete, Alex exhaled a stream of thick flame, revealing sharp, predatory teeth.

Sukuna instantly recoiled, teleporting away using his technique. His instincts screamed—this was something else.

Alex paid no attention to the retreat. He looked at his hands, feeling the dragon's power coursing through his body. For him, it was an interesting experiment—to summon a creature from another world and allow it to merge with him for strength.

He raised his gaze to Sukuna, hovering in the air, surrounded by the Infinity barrier. In his eyes, Alex read caution and fear.

"The great Ryomen Sukuna ran away. Pathetic sight. A coward," Alex said, flames bursting from his mouth with every word.

"What kind of power is this? If all you're capable of is a transformation, I'm not impressed," Sukuna snapped, ignoring the taunt.

"Since you asked..." Alex raised his hand. "The combination of Azepht and Dairo spells lets me summon the power of a dragon into my body. But there were no dragons in this world, so I had to 'borrow' one from another. Not just any—one of the Celestial Dragons, capable of killing even gods. Now you'll find out what that means. Prepare yourself."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed until they were slits. But what truly alarmed him was the sword that appeared in Alex's hand—a blade forged from pure flame.

The next moment, Alex vanished. The spot where he had stood was literally wiped from the face of the earth.

Sukuna felt heat behind him and sharply bent forward—the blazing sword passed mere millimeters from his body. Even that was enough—the heat was intense enough to burn skin. He hoped the Ten Sacred Treasures would adapt quickly... but things didn't go as planned.

Alex kept attacking. Each swing of the flaming sword left molten trails on the ground. Stones melted simply from the weapon's proximity. Sukuna tried to dodge, but soon his body was covered in burns. One of his hands disappeared, turning to ash from a mere touch.

He expected the Treasures to adapt and turn the tide... But instead, he heard cracking.

He teleported away, looked up—and froze. The Ten Sacred Treasures above his head were covered in cracks. It seemed they would shatter at any moment.

The next adaptation never came. Instead, a sharp creak rang out, the cracks widened... and the Treasures crumbled to dust.

"That's the limit of your adaptation, Sukuna." Alex slowly approached, holding the flaming sword. "You think I missed by accident? I wasn't hitting you. I was hitting those toys. I'm not Satoru—I'm not going to give you a chance to get stronger. I like breaking toys while they're still toys. Not when they start thinking they're alive."

Sukuna just smirked at Alex's words. He realized Alex knew far more about his powers than he let on. But it didn't dampen his fighting spirit. Activating his Reverse Curse Technique, Sukuna restored his severed hand—flesh grew back over bone as if nothing had happened.

He was ready for the second round. This time, he intended to fight seriously. Noticing that Sukuna had no plans to retreat, Alex rushed into battle without losing a second.

Meanwhile, inside Alex's spiritual realm, something else was happening. A new presence appeared—a massive red dragon peacefully sleeping in the shadows. Feeling the change, the dragon opened one eye and immediately realized: this place was unfamiliar.

The name of this dragon was Ddraig Y Goch, the great Celestial Dragon, one of the two strongest of his kind, and the eternal rival of the white dragon Albion. Once, Ddraig had been sealed inside an artifact—an enhancing equipment that passed from one owner to another.

But now he sensed that he had awakened again... and reconnected with a new soul. Yet the soul of the previous owner hadn't died, which meant this wasn't a completely normal process for him.

With eyes wide open, Ddraig looked around. His attention was drawn to female voices discussing something. He turned his head and saw a group of women dressed alike in white, watching the battle. They carried the scent of Scandinavia—gods, runes, ice, battles. But there were also other, faint aromas hinting at different pantheons.

"Sisters... it seems the red dragon summoned by the older brother has awakened," Göll was the first to speak.

The Valkyries turned simultaneously. Their gazes fixed on Ddraig. Proud as he was, he naturally tried to assert his dominance—his body glowed red, his scales tensed, and he was ready to demonstrate his power... But something went wrong.

A chill ran down his spine. He felt a threat. Not from all the Valkyries—only from one. A woman resembling a holy maiden stood in the center. Her eyes were cold as northern ice, and her gaze... pierced to the bone. For the first time in a long while, Ddraig—the Celestial Dragon—felt fear.

He couldn't even understand why. It was something primal, instinctive. A natural terror of a being that should not be angered.

"Don't try to play the great dragon here. You're just a guest. And if you try to make a mess in my husband's soul, I will personally tear your heart out. Hope I was clear enough, dragon?" Göndul said, not averting her gaze.

"I am the great Celestial Dragon! I will not listen to a woman who reeks of the Scandinavian pantheon. Answer me! Where am I? How did I get here?!" Ddraig growled indignantly, lifting his head.

"Idiot," the other Valkyries said in unison.

"What?! I'll tear you all apart if you don't—"

"I said: you're an idiot," Hlökk repeated coldly, looking at him like a foolish puppy. "You'd better listen to my sister. Because here, we are not the main threat. And definitely not you with your inflated power."

"Then who?.." Ddraig frowned and instinctively closed his mouth.

"A woman. The only one whose patience runs out very quickly. She hates the likes of you. And... she's coming," Geirölul smirked. "Pray, dragon. Pray to stay alive."

Ddraig didn't fully understand which woman they were talking about. But the cold, calm, slightly mocking gazes of the Valkyries irritated him. Deep inside, he boiled with the desire to show why he was called the strongest dragon.

However, at that very moment, he felt an unprecedented cold and a grim thirst for blood coming from somewhere behind him. Turning his massive head, Ddraig saw a crimson sphere, inside which flickered a distorted image of the Red City.

The sphere radiated primal terror, and at the same time... he sensed a familiar destructive energy. An energy he knew only from one ancient clan of devils. But he didn't have time to ask a question.

His body suddenly froze—as if something invisible wrapped around him, immobilizing him. And before he could react, a woman appeared on his snout.

Pale, as if carved from marble. Wearing a scarlet dress stained with blood. Her hair floated in the air, and her eyes… her eyes radiated such fury and malice that even Ddraig, the great Celestial Dragon, involuntarily shuddered.

This was the second time in such a short time that he had been frightened by a woman. He realized clearly: if the other dragons found out about this, they would laugh for centuries.

"I warned you. You should have been quieter. But you didn't listen. And now you have awakened… Zhang Ya," Göndul said coldly, without even looking at him.

"If you want answers—be silent and listen. You are bound to the owner of this world, and his soul is the place where you now stand. If he allows it, you will be able to see his memories."

Ddraig snorted but still followed the advice. Closing his eyes, he concentrated… and in the next moment opened them in horror. His massive body began to tremble. What he saw shook even him.

He learned why he ended up here. And understood whom he was now bound to. The Demon King named Alex… a being for whom family meant everything, and for whom he was willing to destroy the world.

This was not just a master. This was a storm. An abyss. A merciless and furious force that was at once terrifying… and mesmerizing.

But what shocked Ddraig the most was the fact that Alex had summoned him. Not from this world, not from a familiar reality—but from another dimension. He tore him out of another space, bound him, subdued him. And now… owned him. Even if temporarily.

Ddraig's green eyes flared with admiration. He felt awe, even excitement.

"This power... It's indescribable… Albion, wait. I'll have something to sink my teeth into..." he thought with a sly grin.

He lowered his gaze to the massive projection screen showing Alex's battle against Sukuna. As he sifted through his memories, Ddraig realized that his connection to this master was temporary…

But even being with such a being for a while was an honor. A chance. And an opportunity to indulge his dragon ego—especially when the moment came to remind Albion who he would never measure up to.

Ddraig quietly giggled like a satisfied child… then suddenly froze. His face lengthened, his scales dimmed slightly. The memories revealed who he was in Alex's world—a mere entity, an insignificant shadow of former glory.

"What's with that dragon? You could tell from his face—he was just happy, and now he's disappointed," Randgriz smirked, pointing at Ddraig.

"Don't mind him," Geirölul waved her off. "They're all like that. More arrogance than common sense."

Ddraig wanted to roar in response, to declare he heard everything. But alas—his maw was tightly bound by black hair. His whole body was entwined by it like chains. The hair of Zhang Ya: alive, cold, menacing.

From Alex's memories, he understood just how dangerous this girl was. And what could have happened to him if he kept acting as usual. His survival instinct outweighed his pride. He fell silent. And simply watched.

To be continued…

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