Those who hear the frantic barking of the Blood God's Hounds often liken the sound to the death knell of their own doom.
Once these Blood Hunters catch the scent of their prey, there is no escape. The Flesh Hounds never tire; they will never stop their pursuit until they taste the flesh of their target.
Being targeted by them is the ultimate terror. Whether the prey is in the Warp or realspace, no matter how distant the stars they hide among, the victims will find that distant howling drawing ever closer. Many suffer a mental breakdown long before they are torn to shreds.
---
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Like chopping minced meat, the cleaver hacked wildly at the cutting board. Black blood flowed like tea from an overturned pot, cascading from the workbench onto the filthy floor.
The bloody Butcher, wearing a black apron with a little bear on it, widened his bloodshot eyes, panting heavily like an enraged bull.
"Damn it! What the hell is going on?!"
CLANG-CLATTER!
The sound of metal hitting the floor followed. Even his precious black bone-cleaver, which he hadn't replaced in years, was discarded under the workbench, left lying in a pool of blood.
The Butcher clutched his nearly bald head with blood-stained hands, looking extremely agitated.
On the workbench, the unfortunate soul meant to become a "Teru Teru Bozu" was unrecognizable. The upper body had been reduced to an indescribable, bloody pulp, a mash of white bone fragments and pale yellow fat.
"Dismemberment" was supposed to be a relaxing, stress-relieving activity. But the inexplicable beastly howling echoing from afar in his ears made the Butcher flustered and anxious.
He was messing up steps he knew by heart. He should have cleanly severed the spine connecting to the head with one chop, but instead, he ended up slicing off half the skull.
Making such errors on basic techniques showed just how badly the Butcher's hands were shaking. They were trembling like a sieve.
"Damn it. It's getting closer again."
The Butcher shuddered as the howling in his ears grew louder. Trembling, he walked toward the bathroom.
"Maybe the Jujutsu Association has been pushing me too hard lately. I'm having a nervous breakdown."
SPLASH.
At the bathroom sink, the Butcher splashed a handful of water onto his face. By the time the clear, colorless water hit the floor, it had turned blood-red.
He thought the cold shock would help, but the howling—pursuing him like a poison in his bones—didn't fade in the slightest.
Suddenly, the Butcher convulsed violently. His blood ran cold, cold sweat poured down his face, and his heart skipped a beat.
The footsteps that had been approaching from behind had stopped. Not because the auditory hallucination had vanished, but because it had arrived.
He felt a presence less than a meter away. In this cramped bathroom of less than three square meters, a second "person" had suddenly appeared behind him.
No, not a person. Some unknown creature was quietly watching him from above.
The thick smell of burning sulfur mixed with the stench of blood on the Butcher, making the small bathroom feel even more oppressive. Breathing became difficult.
HISS.
The Butcher suddenly felt something rough and slimy lick his cheek. A sense of absurdity rose in his heart.
It was cleaning its "food"!
Predators always lick their food clean before eating. Once the meal is clean and sanitary, they dig in.
"Playing tricks on me!"
Although the Butcher's gaze turned fierce, intimate contact with something beyond his imagination inevitably deepened the terror in his heart.
Manic and agitated, the Butcher punched the mirror in front of him. CRASH! The glass shattered.
But this did nothing to relieve the oppressive atmosphere. Instead, the air grew even colder.
Because in every shard of glass scattered on the floor, the reflection showed not only the Butcher's face twisted in horror but also the clear image of the terrifying, blood-red figure standing quietly behind him.
If he wasn't mistaken, the giant monster in the mirror—resembling a lizard-wolf hybrid—had already opened its gaping maw wide, ready to bite down on his head.
---
"Yomi-nee."
At that moment, Kenmei Isayama, squatting with his hand touching his shadow under the streetlight, opened his eyes.
His tone was grim.
"I've found the Butcher's location."
"What?! That fast?"
Yomi Isayama, who was still pondering the origins of that terrifying hellhound that looked straight out of Western religion, looked incredulous upon hearing Kenmei's voice.
It had been less than five minutes since Kenmei released that Shikigami—which looked even more evil than a Cursed Spirit—and he had already found the enemy?
How could it be that fast?
Even the Shikigami most proficient in tracking within the Jujutsu Association couldn't match this efficiency. It meant Yomi had wasted the last few days searching for nothing.
It was unexpectedly smooth, but Kenmei wasn't one to boast, so it was likely true.
This was possible because Kenmei had his summoned Flesh Hound activate its active skill:
[The Hunt]
The Hunt Lv.15 (Talent Skill, Upgradeable, Active)
Effect: The blessing of the Blood God allows these brutal beasts to pierce through space. This dimension is connected to realspace, drastically shortening travel distance. Once a target is locked, they will be directly marked.
Note: The Hunt (Active) has a cooldown of 1 natural day.
Lv.10 Bonus Effect - Brand: Once prey is marked by a Flesh Hound, its aura can be sensed until death.
Lv.20 Bonus Effect: ??? (Locked)
This was the Flesh Hound's talent, a power bestowed by the Blood God. They could travel through a unique dimension connected to reality. In this space, they could achieve astonishing speeds—far different from physical travel, which is limited to the speed of human vehicles. It was more like a spatial jump, drastically shortening the journey.
Simultaneously, as they advanced, the Flesh Hound's howling would echo in the ears of the hunted. They could only hear the footsteps getting closer and closer, with no way to counter it.
Since Kenmei could only summon the first Flesh Hound for free for ten minutes a day, he had to maximize value in that limited time, so he activated [The Hunt] immediately. Once the Flesh Hound branded the Butcher, Kenmei sensed it instantly.
"Yomi-nee, we should get moving."
But how? That was the question.
When Kenmei went on missions with Akutagawa, they drove. But Yomi didn't seem to have a vehicle. Were they going to walk? Or rent a shared bike?
"Neither."
Yomi, amused by Kenmei's wild guesses, couldn't help but laugh. She unwrapped the slender object in her hand, revealing a sword that looked like a katana.
"We'll rely on this."