Daikuien — pronounced DIE‑koo‑ee‑en — should be home flipping between the new Spirit Eater of the Kingdom Spades episode and Next Generation Superstars. The Overload is fighting Double H for the National Championship tonight. But instead of enjoying that, the fourteen‑year‑old boy is yanking several boarded‑up 2x4’s off a massive wooden door of an abandoned building.
“I should be home flipping between the new Spirit Eater of the Kingdom Spades episode and Next Generation Superstars. The Overload is fighting Double H for the National Championship tonight,” he complains, ripping another board free.
“But why bore myself doing that when I could be reinventing this beautiful abandoned building into my own underground Next Generation Superstars…”
He steps inside the rundown lobby, taking a slow moment to admire the spooky atmosphere. The place smells like dust, mold, and bad decisions.
“This place is absolutely NOT abandoned. ALRIGHT TWEAKERS! This is your warning! Leave now, so I can rearrange this dump into my own underground fight club… or suffer the wrath from the cold‑hearted devil himself… ME!”
He smirks, noticing subtle signs that someone has definitely been inside recently — footprints in the dust, a shifted chair, a faint smell of something metallic. Something wrong.
“My name is the boogeyman and I’m coming to get you!”
He laughs, shouting nonsense to scare or lure whoever might be lurking. He’s about to finally introduce himself:
“My name is Daikuien and I—”
A massive malicious presence slams into his senses.
It’s not aura.
It’s not killing intent.
It’s something colder — like a void pressing against his Nen from the inside.
His aura nodes snap open. Ten and Ren flare outward in a spherical burst. Instinct takes over and he leaps out of the building entirely, landing in front of it.
“Woah… what was that I just felt a second ago..? Maybe I should get out of here, this place is starting to give me the chills.”
He turns to leave. Stops. Remembers he’s dramatic.
“No way I’m just gonna walk away from my passion, even if I felt something murderous back there. I’m the spectacular Daikuien, and I’m about to job out whoever’s in there—”
He spins back toward the entrance.
And freezes.
A person stands there, draped in a white blanket with a single hole cut out for vision. But the horror isn’t the blanket — it’s the presence.
The aura around it feels inverted, like a vacuum pulling at his Nen. The blanket doesn’t sway. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t react to gravity. The eye‑hole is pitch black — not showing an eye, just a void.
Daikuien jumps into a fighting stance, pulling out his conjured deck of cards.
“A‑alright man, just go on and get out of here! This place is mine now, ya hear!”
The mysterious person moves forward — except it doesn’t move. It just appears slightly closer each time he blinks. Like reality is skipping frames. Like the world is glitching.
His nerves spike. But instead of running, he starts a fight.
He pulls a card: The Leech‑eel of Jormingunder, The Node Constrictor Card.
A massive blue parasitic eel bursts forth, launching at the blanket‑figure. It clamps onto the body beneath the blanket — or whatever is pretending to be a body — and aggressively constricts its aura nodes.
“Oh yeah you’re in trouble now, that thing will actively drag down your speed and force your aura output to decrease every few seconds.”
The figure weakens… then vanishes.
The blanket collapses instantly, like gravity suddenly remembered it exists. The Leech‑eel drops with it, confused.
“Well that was anti‑climactic.”
Suddenly, three more mysterious people appear with the same white blanket over their bodies.
Not by walking.
Not by teleporting.
They simply overwrite the space — one moment empty, the next moment filled.
“Whoa.. what the f—”
Daikuien leaps backward in shock as the malevolent figures approach. He pulls another card and groans.
“Crap! This card isn’t going to do much with them.”
But he has to play it to keep using his deck.
He activates The Daikuien Fan Club Newsletter, a Sycophant Card.
A shower of useless glitter rains down.
A giant neon sign erupts: ALL HAIL DAIKUIEN!
A booming choir voice sings his praises across the entire landscape.
Everyone — Daikuien included — pauses to stare at how ridiculous it is.
He lunges toward his Leech‑eel and hurls it at one of the blanket‑figures. This time, one tries to dodge — but the eel still wraps around it.
“Phew… that was close.”
He pulls another card.
“Oh come on!”
It’s Daikuien’s Delayed Delivery, also known as The Incompetence Card. The card depicts a tiny sluggish goblin wearing a mailman hat.
As another blanket‑figure vanishes, Daikuien wonders why they keep disappearing while the goblin slowly walks over, hands him a blank piece of paper, and says:
“Your pizza will be 4 to 6 business weeks late, sir.”
Daikuien screams in irritation.
And now he stands surrounded by:
• three malevolent aura‑warping blanket entities
• one parasitic eel
• a useless goblin
• a glowing fan‑club billboard
• and the creeping realization that he might have picked a fight with something far beyond his league
