Why Fushimi Gaku Became the Demon Lord: The Last Boss's Justice
A major incident shakes the virtual streaming world. Fushimi Gaku, a popular VTuber from the second generation of Nijisanji, suddenly stops all broadcasts. The only official word is an indefinite hiatus. No reason is given, and his presence slowly fades from fans' memories. But in a place no one knows, Gaku is caught up in a different battle.
It begins with a single message from a girl named Miyako. She confesses that her older brother has gotten involved in illegal modification streams behind
Why Fushimi Gaku Became the Demon Lord: The Last Boss's Justice - The referee's gesture—the girl I believed in was, before I knew it, laughing in the palm of the enemy's hand.
The air of Akihabara, breathed in for the first time in seven days, tasted faintly of rust.
The heat of the crowds walking the main street, the flood of electronic sounds leaking from storefronts. All of it clung to Gaku's skin like a thin film. The scene he'd witnessed a week ago in the underground deep-layer streaming studio still stuck to the back of his retinas. Streamers manipulated by emotion-amplification filters, spewing abuse while wearing smiles. And Minato, among them. Personality overwrite progress: 92 percent. That single moment of light when he'd cried out for help.
Gaku turned off into a back alley, as if avoiding the crowds.
(Today I'm meeting that guy Ren.)
A week ago, after confronting Minato, Gaku had sent Ren a message asking for his cooperation. The reply had been curt, but Ren had designated today—at an internet café in Akihabara—to hear him out. The time: three in the afternoon. The place: "Net Café Astel," on the third floor of a mixed-tenant building about five minutes on foot from the station. It faced a street one block in from the main road, dim even in daytime.
There was no elevator, so he climbed the narrow stairs. The paint on the walls was peeling, and one of the fluorescent lights was flickering on its last legs. The smell of mold mingled with stale cigarette smoke, and from the cardboard boxes piled in the corner of the stairwell, some kind of component peeked out.
When he reached the third floor, he could see a reception counter beyond a glass door. Gaku went inside and gave the number of a private room to the unsociable clerk at the counter.
"Room three, all the way at the back."
Gaku nodded and walked down the dim hallway. His footsteps echoed unnaturally loud. Through the walls, he could hear the clatter of keyboards and the muffled murmur of voices.
He stood before the door of room three.
Gaku took a small, quiet breath.
(I know he's a shady guy. But right now, I need his information.)
Two knocks.
"It's open."
A listless voice answered from inside. Gaku opened the door.
The room was surprisingly small.
Soundproofing mats covered every wall. A small desk held a single laptop. On the floor, a carelessly dropped bag and two empty plastic bottles. The air conditioning stirred the edge of a curtain.
And at the desk sat a man.
Kuronagi Ren.
He was a thin man with the sleeves of his black long-sleeved shirt rolled up. His hair had grown out unchecked, bangs hanging over his eyes. His skin was pale, his cheeks hollow. But only his eyes glinted unnaturally, shining in the dark room like a nocturnal animal's. Mid-thirties, perhaps. An old pair of earphones hung around his neck.
"So you're Fushimi Gaku?"
Ren looked Gaku up and down, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. His attitude showed not a shred of deference or respect for someone he was meeting for the first time.
"That's right. You're Kuronagi Ren."
Gaku remained standing across from Ren, meeting his eyes. He hadn't been invited to sit, so he wouldn't. It was his way of signaling caution.
"Huh. You look more normal than I expected. I figured you'd be the type with eyes blazing with self-righteousness."
"Sorry to disappoint. Just an ordinary college student. ...So, what did you want to talk about?"
"Now, now, don't rush me. This place has an all-you-can-drink soda bar. Want something? The coffee's weak, though."
"No thanks. I came here to ask about Minato and about Nocturne."
Ren shrugged and turned his laptop screen toward Gaku.
"Take a look at this."
The screen displayed a string of encrypted data—countless numbers and letters in rows. Gaku couldn't immediately tell what it meant.
"What is this?"
"The application log for Ayatsuji Minato's personality overwrite module. I pulled it from Nijisanji's operations server. It took time to analyze, but I finally decrypted it."
Ren tapped the keyboard a few times. The screen switched, displaying graphs and tables.
"Look here. The application date and the approval code. ...You understand? This code isn't something a regular operations staff member could possess. This can only be issued with the approval of the upper management—and not just anyone, someone fairly high up."
Gaku leaned closer to the screen.
(Operations upper management approved Minato's modification...?)
The back of his head grew hot. Nijisanji was the agency Gaku belonged to. Its operations had approved overwriting a contracted liver's personality. It was hard to believe. But the data on the screen showed that Ren's words weren't a lie.
"...I heard you used to be a Nijisanji operations staff member."
Gaku said it, looking Ren straight in the eye.
"That's right. Until about three years ago. By the time you debuted, I'd already quit. I was in charge of the second generation—mainly Minato."
Ren leaned his weight back against the chair and looked up at the ceiling.
"Minato was serious and kind. Even through the screen, you could feel how much he wanted to entertain his viewers. ...That's the kind of guy he was."
The flippant tone vanished slightly from Ren's voice.
"One day, at an upper management meeting, the topic of Minato's streaming style came up. 'We want more stimulation.' 'There aren't enough elements to whip the viewers into a frenzy.' ...In other words, get more numbers. I objected. Minato's strength isn't stimulation. It's that gentleness. ...But the higher-ups wouldn't listen."
Ren laughed a small, self-mocking laugh.
"'Maybe this is beyond you.' That's what my boss at the time told me after the meeting. I couldn't protect Minato. No—I didn't try to. I was afraid of things getting complicated, afraid of defying the higher-ups, so I left the agency without telling Minato anything."
Ren looked at Gaku.
"I have no obligation and no sense of justice that compels me to help you. I just want to cancel out my guilt, even a little. ...Is that enough for you?"
Gaku listened to Ren's words in silence.
(This guy regrets it. That he couldn't save Minato.)
The light in Ren's eyes wasn't mere madness. Behind it, Gaku could see a deep color of remorse. Maybe he could trust this man, just a little.
"...That's enough. I understand your regret."
Gaku finally lowered himself into the chair across from Ren.
"So, there's one more thing you wanted to show me, right? The data fragments from the female staff member who was erased by operations."
Ren's eyes flashed sharply for an instant.
"You caught that."
"It's the way you talk. You still had the face of someone who hadn't gotten to the main point yet."
Ren let out a breath and operated his laptop. More data appeared on the screen. This time, it looked like fragmented text and an audio file.
"This is about a female staff member who was investigating Nocturne internally after I quit. Her name is... well, I'll keep that hidden for now. She was on the verge of grasping evidence connected to Nocturne's core. But before she could report it to the higher-ups, she was made to 'never have existed.' Wiped clean from the records and from her colleagues' memories."
Ren played an audio file on the screen, faintly mixed with noise.
"...Zero, four, seven... approval... Nocturne... core... that person is..."
A woman's voice. Broken and halting, barely audible. But in that voice, a desperate terror bled through.
"This is the last data fragment she left behind. 'Zero, four, seven' is probably some kind of code. And 'that person is.' ...She must have reached the identity of the person at the top of Nocturne."
Gaku replayed the audio file in his mind once more.
(The top of Nocturne. The person I once trusted most...)
Information that touched the core of everything. Deep in Gaku's chest, something ached sharply.
"...Ren. I'm going to save Minato. And I'm going to crush Nocturne. I'll use your information for that."
Gaku said it clearly, looking into Ren's eyes.
"You're an idiot, aren't you. Justice costs too much. ...Well, fine. I'm a little interested in that idiocy of yours. I'll cooperate."
Ren said that, and for the first time, he relaxed his mouth slightly toward Gaku. It was far too small to call a smile, but still.
That night, when Gaku returned to his apartment, he immediately sent Miyako a message.
〈Miyako, I have a favor to ask. To awaken Minato's original personality, I need your voice. Please send me a short recording of you calling Minato's name.〉
A few minutes after sending it, his phone vibrated.
〈Understood. ...Um, Gaku-san.〉
〈Yeah?〉
〈Your voice is reassuring, Gaku-san. Can we meet again?〉
Gaku read that single line over and over.
(...Reassuring, huh.)
A strange sensation spread through his chest—something like a tickle, something like warmth. He felt the tension that had gripped him all week loosen, just a little.
〈Yeah, of course. At Café Noir again.〉
〈Yes. I'm looking forward to it. Good night, Gaku-san.〉
〈Good night, Miyako.〉
Gaku set his phone on the desk.
(Miyako trusts me. I have to live up to that.)
The next morning.
Gaku checked his phone the moment he woke up. No reply from Miyako yet.
(Still asleep, maybe.)
He thought that, but there was a discomfort in his chest like a small thorn. Miyako always replied to Gaku's messages right away. Even late at night, even early in the morning. Yet this morning, there was no response at all.
Gaku sent another message.
〈Miyako, are you okay? No rush on the recording.〉
No read receipt. Time passed idly.
Thirty minutes later. Gaku couldn't sit still any longer and was heading to Miyako's apartment.
(Something might have happened.)
A bad premonition swelled darkly in his chest. Rocking on the train, Gaku checked his phone again and again. Still no word from Miyako.
Miyako's apartment was an old two-story building about ten minutes on foot from the station. Gaku had walked her home once. That time, they'd waved goodbye in front of the apartment—see you again.
Gaku stood before the apartment.
(...The door.)
The front door was slightly ajar.
Gaku's heart contracted as if gripped by a cold hand.
"Miyako...?"
No answer.
Gaku opened the door.
"Miyako! Are you there!?"
The front door's lock was broken. Around the doorknob were marks as if it had been pried open with a tool. Gaku rushed inside without even taking off his shoes.
The room was in ruins.
The table was overturned, the contents of the bookshelf scattered across the floor. The curtains were torn, and one of the windowpanes was cracked. And from the computer desk that should have been in the corner, the PC tower was gone. Only the monitor remained, its screen smashed to pieces as if struck with something hard.
On the floor lay Miyako's smartphone. The screen was pitch black, wouldn't turn on.
"Damn it...!"
Gaku looked down at Miyako's belongings scattered across the floor. Textbooks, notebooks, a pencil case. Among them, a small photo frame had fallen. Gaku picked it up. In the photo were a young Miyako and, beside her, a gentle-looking boy smiling.
(Minato...)
Gaku pressed the photo frame to his chest.
(Where is Miyako...)
Just then, his phone vibrated.
It was a call from Ren.
"Ren! Miyako—!"
"Calm down. Where are you now?"
"Miyako's apartment. The room's been ransacked. Miyako's gone...!"
"...Get out of there. Now. You might be in danger too."
"But Miyako—!"
"If you disappear too, who's going to look for Miyako? Come to my base. I'll send the location."
Ren said only that, then hung up without waiting.
Gaku gripped his phone with trembling hands.
(Miyako...)
Gaku scanned the room once more. Miyako's presence was nowhere. Only the traces of violence remained, vivid and raw.
Gaku bolted from the apartment.
Outside, the sky was thinly overcast. A damp wind slapped Gaku's cheek. He ran. To head for the location Ren would send, he had to get away from this place no matter what.
As he ran, his phone vibrated again and again.
Notifications. Social media notifications.
Gaku stopped running and
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