The Spider Demon crept silently behind one of the contestants.
The three boys remained completely unaware, still engrossed in their tense discussion.
"So, are we staying here, or heading further down the mountain?"
"Ahem… the people in my village knew I was taking part in the Final Selection. They even gathered money for my family. If I go back like this… wouldn't that be humiliating?"
"What's the big deal? Just make up an excuse. It's not like joining the Demon Slayer Corps is easy. Plenty of people fail and still make it back alive, right?"
The Spider Demon circled them slowly.
None of them noticed the monstrous presence lurking just behind them.
It wasn't in a hurry to kill. No—it wanted to play.
It spun in place like a grotesque top, as if finally making its decision.
Then, scuttling forward on its long, jointed limbs, it approached the tallest of the three. Its skeletal torso swayed unnaturally as it rose upright, stretching its bony arms toward the boy's neck.
The two sitting across from him finally saw it.
It was as if the creature had crawled straight out of the earth—a nightmarish thing resembling a twisted spider, its limbs too long, its body too thin.
In an instant, their scalps tingled. Goosebumps erupted across their skin.
Run.
That was the only thought in their minds.
But their bodies refused to obey.
It was as if their legs had been nailed to the ground.
The boy sitting diagonally opposite slowly raised a trembling hand, pointing behind the tall contestant. His lips quivered, his voice caught in his throat, tears already welling in his eyes.
The tall boy frowned.
Seeing his companion's strange expression, he followed the direction of the finger.
"What's wrong with you? Did you see a demo—"
Crack.
Before the word could leave his mouth, his neck twisted violently to the side.
His eyes widened in terror.
And in that final moment, he saw it.
The demon.
Blood vessels burst across his eyes as life drained from them.
The moment he died, the invisible pressure binding the other two seemed to vanish.
"A—A DEMON!"
The boy who had been pointing let out a shrill scream and scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward a narrow path.
That path led further up the mountain—the same direction Kimura's group had taken earlier.
He wanted to catch up.
Beg for forgiveness.
Ask to be taken in.
Regret flooded his heart.
The other boy wasn't so lucky.
His face turned deathly pale. His body trembled uncontrollably. A dark stain spread from his trousers.
He wanted to run.
But he couldn't.
All he could do was watch as the demon approached.
Step by step.
It moved behind him.
Cold, dry claws pressed gently against his neck.
Then—
Crack.
The sound echoed in his ears.
The last thing he ever heard.
---
The screams that followed shattered the stillness of the night.
Like fireworks before a feast.
Short-lived.
Violent.
Then gone.
The banquet had begun.
The hunt had begun.
A demon's feast.
---
Not far away, Kimura's group froze mid-step.
They had been searching for a defensible position when the screams reached them.
Everyone stiffened.
Their scalps prickled as they turned toward the sound.
"Help! Help me! Someone—!"
The voice grew closer.
Then—
Silence.
Abrupt.
As if snuffed out like a candle.
A chill ran through the group.
He was dead.
No one said it aloud, but everyone knew.
Fear spread like wildfire.
From their feet…
To their throats.
Something was coming.
No—many things.
Rustling leaves.
Footsteps.
From the front.
From behind.
From the trees.
From everywhere.
"…We're surrounded."
"E-Everyone, don't panic!" Kimura's voice rang out, though it trembled slightly. "There are many of us. We're not helpless. Form a circle—slowly!"
Despite the fear in his voice, his words gave direction.
As the group's strategist, he finally showed his worth.
The formation shifted, changing from a forward assault shape into a defensive circle.
Kimura took a deep breath, forcing down his fear.
If he lost control now, everything would collapse.
"Listen to me," he continued, his tone firming. "We knew what this was when we came here. This is the Final Selection. There is no turning back."
"Fear won't save you. It will only get you—and others—killed."
His gaze swept across the group.
"So hear this clearly: anyone who refuses to fight… will be abandoned. Anyone who runs… will also be abandoned."
"My team is not a shelter for cowards. We survive together—or we don't survive at all."
Silence followed.
Then, one by one, heads nodded.
His words were harsh.
But they made sense.
And right now, logic was the only thing keeping them together.
"And don't forget," he added quickly, "what the Kasugai attendants said at the foot of the mountain—the demons here were captured by the Demon Slayer Corps. That means they're not invincible."
"If they can be caught… they can be killed."
That reassurance settled the group slightly.
Not because it was comforting—
But because it was believable.
---
Elsewhere, on a raised stone outcrop, two figures sat quietly.
Cold Cry leaned back, gazing lazily at the moon, absentmindedly tossing pebbles into the forest below.
Beside him, Noe hugged her knees, puffing her cheeks as she idly drew circles in the dirt with a thin stick.
They were the only ones who seemed unaffected by the chaos unfolding.
Then—
A scream pierced the air.
Close.
Noe shot to her feet, turning sharply toward the sound.
It came from the mountainside.
Then more cries followed.
Desperate.
Fading.
And then—
Nothing.
Noe hesitated.
Her body leaned forward slightly.
She wanted to go.
To help.
But after a moment, she turned back and sat down beside Cold Cry again.
"…Someone died."
"I heard."
"…Are we really doing nothing?"
Cold Cry didn't look at her.
"What do you want to do?"
Noe lowered her gaze.
"I don't know."
"Then do nothing."
His voice was calm.
Flat.
"Seven days. That's how long Final Selection lasts."
"The first night is always the worst."
He tossed another pebble into the darkness.
"Survive tonight… and the rest becomes easier."
--