The sirens grew louder, echoing through the glass canyons of the city. Blue and red lights stuttered across the alley walls, reflecting in the puddles of blood.
Inosuke's chest rose and fell with ragged excitement. His muscles coiled, every fiber of his body singing with the promise of more prey. The wood demon was still standing, the scarf demon had blood on his lip, and new prey was almost here.
The hunt was still good.
From the street, shadows darted into view—three figures in a tight formation, moving fast.
Edgeshot hit first, materializing from a blur of folded space like a darting hawk. His blade-like body flashed in the sunlight, folding into humanoid form midair. "Kamui! Eraser! Status?"
"Dangerous, uncooperative—possible villain," Kamui barked, steadying himself.
"He's fast," Eraser added, his scarf coiled tight, "and fights with a wild, deadly swordsmanship—like a beast swinging steel."
Edgeshot's eyes flicked over to Inosuke—shirtless, boar-mask, blades dripping—and narrowed. "Then we end it quickly."
From behind him, two more heroes emerged—Mt. Lady, towering above the crowd in her giant form, and Best Jeanist, his threads already unwinding from his denim-clad arms like steel whips.
Inosuke's head snapped from one to the other. "Big demon… thread demon… fast demon…" His grin widened. "YES!"
Without warning, he bolted toward Edgeshot, twin Nichirin blades flashing in an overhead cross-cut.
Edgeshot's body went thin in an instant, folding away from the strike and snapping back into solid form behind Inosuke. "He's not holding back!"
Inosuke spun, his footwork wild but somehow precise, blades sweeping in an arc meant to cut anything in their path. Sparks flew as Jeanist's reinforced threads intercepted, binding the blades mid-swing.
For a moment, Inosuke pulled—then instead of retreating, he lunged forward with his head, the boar mask cracking into Jeanist's jaw. Jeanist grunted but didn't falter, twisting his threads around Inosuke's wrists.
"Restraint is the first step to rehabilitation," Jeanist said through gritted teeth.
"RAAAHHH!" Inosuke bellowed, twisting his whole body in a spiral. "Beast Breathing… Fourth Fang: Slice and Dice!"
The motion wasn't aimed at cutting—it was raw torque. His whole frame spun like a saw, shredding the threads with sheer friction and force. Jeanist stumbled back, his bindings frayed.
Edgeshot dove in, trying to strike from behind, but Inosuke dropped low in an almost beast-like crawl and slashed upward, forcing Edgeshot to dodge.
The crowd was going insane—phones up, people shouting.
Then Mt. Lady stepped in. Her massive hand swept through the alley like a falling wall, palm-first. Inosuke leapt, her shadow passing under him, and landed on her wrist mid-swing.
"BIG DEMON! I'LL TAKE YOUR HEAD!" he shouted, sprinting up her arm like a mountain path.
Mt. Lady swiped at him with her other hand, but he ducked and vaulted forward, aiming for her face. He would have made it—if Jeanist's threads didn't whip around his ankle mid-leap, yanking him back.
He hit the wall hard, stone cracking under the impact. But Inosuke didn't slow—he used the wall as a springboard, flipping mid-air to slash at the threads again.
Edgeshot appeared in his path, forcing him into a midair exchange—three quick blade strikes met by three impossible dodges.
Eraser Head's scarf lashed from the side, catching his torso again.
Inosuke twisted violently, roaring. "LET—GO—OF—ME!"
He dragged Eraser toward him with sheer brute force, kicking off the ground to slam his shoulder into the hero's ribs. Eraser staggered back, wind knocked out of him.
Kamui Woods seized the moment, sending a dozen branches forward to bind Inosuke's arms and legs.
Inosuke bit into one of the wooden bindings like a wild animal, teeth sinking into the grain, before twisting and hacking through the rest.
Jeanist's threads whipped in again, this time looping his elbows. Edgeshot dove low, aiming a precision strike at the side of his neck to knock him out—
Inosuke bent backward at an impossible angle, Edgeshot's blow cutting empty air. He used the momentum to kick upward, catching Edgeshot in the chest and sending him back a step.
"Stop playing with him!" Mt. Lady shouted, voice booming. "Hit him all at once!"
That was the call.
Jeanist's threads, Kamui's branches, and Eraser's scarf all shot forward together from different angles, closing the space.
Inosuke met them head-on. "Beast Breathing…Fifth Fang: Crazy Cutting!"
It was a whirlwind—blades carving the air so fast they were barely visible. Threads snapped, wood splintered, the scarf twisted away.
But it left him open.
Edgeshot slid into needle form, striking a precise nerve point between his ribs. Inosuke's roar faltered for a split second—just enough for Jeanist's reinforced threads to wrap his torso tight.
Kamui's vines locked his legs. Eraser's scarf coiled around his arms, pinning them to his sides.
He strained, muscles bulging, every tendon in his neck standing out. The bindings creaked.
"LET GO!!" he shouted, voice reverberate as a growl. "I WILL KILL YOU ALL, DEMONS!"
"Knock him out!" Eraser ordered.
Mt. Lady raised her foot and brought it down—not to crush, but to slam the air from his lungs. The impact rattled the ground, stunning him just long enough for Edgeshot to jab two more points at the base of his neck.
Inosuke's vision swam. His grip on the world blurred. The roars of the crowd became distant, muffled.
He tried to snarl again, to rise, to fight—
—but his body went limp, collapsing in the tangled bindings.
The pro heroes didn't relax until they were sure he was out cold.
Jeanist exhaled, tightening the knots. "That was… no ordinary street brawler."
Eraser crouched next to him, peering at the boar mask. "We need him in custody. Now."
Kamui glanced at the headless corpse still cooling nearby. "And we need answers—fast."
Mt. Lady looked down at the unconscious figure, then at the deep cuts in Kamui's branches and Jeanist's frayed fibers. "Whatever he is… he's dangerous."
The sirens swelled again—police and medical crews arriving. The alley was sealed off.
Above them, the crowd whispered, phones still pointed, footage already spreading across the net.
Inosuke didn't hear it. He was sinking into blackness, where even the scent of prey couldn't follow.
For now, the hunt was over.