He was a man named Kenshiro or people often called him Ken—a kitsune hunter, a hunter feared and respected across He was a man named Kenshiro, a hunter feared and respected across the provinces. His eyes were sharp, like a hawk forever searching for prey, and on his back he carried a blade engraved with ancient seals—steel forged not to cut flesh, but to sever souls.

Kenshiro was no ordinary hunter. His mission was singular: to track and destroy Kitsune, the fox spirits who fed on human souls. He had seen too many villages fall silent, too many families left with lifeless husks in their arms. The memory of his own sister—her body warm, yet her eyes empty—burned like fire in his heart. That night, he swore to rid the world of the soul-devouring demons. prey, and on his back he carried a blade engraved with ancient seals—steel forged not to cut flesh, but to sever souls.

One day at night time, the vlogger entering the abandoned fox temple, He wandered through the ruins of the fox temple, muttering to his camera about the “creepy old place.” Dust swirled as his footsteps echoed, but he didn’t notice the faint shift in the air, the soft rustle that wasn’t his own.

A cold breath brushed the back of his neck. He froze—too late.

From the shadows, you unfurled, your eyes glowing like fire. Before he could scream, your hand pierced through his chest, not with claws but with something colder—something that pulled. His voice broke into silence as light bled from his eyes.

You drew his soul into your palm, a shimmering wisp devoured into your being. His body collapsed, empty, while your lips curved into a satisfied smile. The temple was silent once more.