Jalut the True
As soon as his new friend uttered these words, Jalut boomed into a fit of explosive laughter, as happy as it was prideful and most of all peerless in cruelty. "Khahahahahah! That's exactly right! You monkeys should bow in gratitude for this chance!"
At that moment, the malice in his soul was so palpable it could be seen as a crimson fog around him, and began to crack even at the floors, walls and windows surrounding them. Perhaps due to knowing their place, or because of a deeply rooted instinct of the prey before the predator, the poor victims of this cruel intent cowered and lowered themselves even further before the giant.
"Just tell us w-what you want us to do. Please, don't hurt them." A trembling, pleading voice cut through the drowning wails and sobs of the pitiful masses, a voice which Jalut appreciated as the amusing mewling of an otherwise dull meal. He whistled a tune and stood even taller, casting a shade over all the preachers, all men and all gods in this gigantic, wretched box.
"Ahhh, I'm glad you asked... the rules of this game, for this is a game, are quite simple. The sort of rules even a babe could follow." He sneered casually, unable to restrain his quite good mood.
It was the sort of mocking laughter you'd expect of a good natured if teasing friend, a friend that very much loved tearing others to shreds including yourself. Taking his sweet time, he crouched to pick up his over-sized weapon, drawing a circle around him with the sharp end only to stand tall and point the edge at the flock.
"You will form a straight line and we shall take turns attacking one another until I leave this area or all of you die! The game will end when either condition is fulfilled, and none may flee only when the game is over."
The spectators were horrified, such a feat would certainly be impossible. Yes, it was clear that he was merely wanting to enjoy himself, if they were going to die anyways he might as well make a sport out of it. This had always been his intention...
"Pr-promise us then! That if we play this game, you will leave the others out of it. Promise that you will spare our wives and children!" Another voice made itself heard, and it seemed everyone was taken in by a new wave of inebriating courage, or perhaps the fatality of the situation had finally clouded their senses.
Bloodshed truly was intoxicating, but this was only proof of humanity's lack of imagination. Someday, they would round up all their elders, wives and children into a suicidal charge in the hopes that something like will or heart would turn the tables. In the end, they would just end up killing themselves over these stupid ideals, it was so sad he couldn't even laugh about it.
So he sighed, and he smiled, and he laughed about it anyways."I promise on my word as a demon lord, I will not go back on my word. Oh, and one more thing! Once you accept this challenge those who escape prior to either condition will break this game's oath and turn to salt under my commandment!! KHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"
Joe Ryuuku
In the end, the men obeyed, coerced by the cruel demon into lining up. The first who spoke up, a young man in his twenties, glanced sadly at his newlywed wife. How did it come to this? Why? He couldn't stop shaking, even now he felt like pissing himself.
No. He couldn't lose here. He smiled at his wife, not with sadness, but hope. He had trained to become a strong man, so he could support and protect her like this. "Hey, it's alright. I won't lose to this guy." He grinned before walking up the giant. That bastard was nice enough to give them the first turn, he'd regret that...
His feet and back swirled with an azure energy, his fist cut through the air and he took a decisive martial arts stance, ready to strike with his chi. This was different from the old man's dojo, but it didn't matter if he wore a tuxedo or a kimono. He always wore his heart in his fist. He didn't have to beat this guy, just push him out of the way.
"Dragon art's fist, tenth stance!" He roared, the blue glow turning into a shining beacon of hope. Everyone looked at the first contestant of this sickening game. But in an instant, he was gone, and his fist came rushing at the red devil with unparalleled resolve. "IRON FIST STRIKE!"
CRASSSSHHHHHHHH!!!! Dust and light burst all over the place. This had to tork, for the woman he loved, for the future he wished to protect!
Blood dripped on the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Had he... won?
An eternity seemed to pass until the smoke cleared, revealing a miraculous sight, one that caused even that man to stare with wide eyes.
His hand had completely ripped apart, the impact fueled by the purest of resolves. And yet, the demon had not budged an inch. It simply stared down at him in the same way it had from the beginning.
"Hrm? Was that a mosquito? No... a firefly maybe?" The demon sneered. On that second, the man's face turned pale, as did everyone else turn into a ghostly complexion. "Normal chop attack." Was the last thing he could hear, not even recognizing the demon's voice anymore.
Time seemed slow down as a massive hand drew closer and closer to his head, until a split second later his head deformed into an U shaped monstrosity, carelessly chopped by the demon. Lifeless, Joe fell over and died instantly.
His soul sucked out of his body, the demon chomped him down no differently from any man he'd have found on the street.
"Next!"
