The Daily Life of the Demon King-Chapter 318: Battle Against Wesker"

After launching Wesker toward the beach, Alex calmly walked over to the gaping hole in the wall through which Wesker had just flown. Standing at the edge, Alex cast his gaze into the distance — toward the shoreline.

Even from that distance, the destruction left behind by Wesker was clearly visible: broken trees, boulders scattered in all directions, and craters in the ground, until his body, like a missile, had embedded itself into the sand and vanished under its weight.

However, Alex soon tore his gaze away from the sandbank and looked further — toward the horizon, where an aircraft carrier loomed. A crooked smirk tugged at his lips: on the deck stood a crowd of people watching the events unfold, as if it were some kind of show.

Shaking his head, he stepped forward and, without hesitation, leapt down. Upon landing, Alex confidently followed the trail of destruction left by Wesker's body, and soon arrived at the beach.

As he approached, the sand suddenly erupted — Wesker burst from his improvised grave. A grim scowl was etched on his face, and his neck cracked as he sharply twisted it from side to side. Alex wasn't surprised. He hadn't expected Wesker to fall that easily. That would've been far too boring.

His enemy had to suffer — only then would death have meaning.

Alex's gaze grew thoughtful. Again and again, he asked himself: why do these villains crave immortality? Why do they seek total control over the world? What's the point of all this struggle — just for ego? Don't they understand that to rule, you need more than power? You need motivation for others to follow you. An iron fist only brings fear and resistance. Rebellions become inevitable, and in the end, one side — or both — will be destroyed.

As for immortality — what good is eternal life in a locked world with no escape? Even if Wesker and Spencer's plan succeeded, they still wouldn't escape death. Perhaps not in its usual form, but death nonetheless. Alex, having lived a second life, had come to understand many things — more than they could grasp in an eternity.

"Now I understand why they want you dead so badly, false savior," Wesker said, cracking his neck.

"Who exactly? The one holding your leash? Or the rest of the mutts like you?" Alex replied indifferently.

Wesker's eyes flared with rage. He wouldn't tolerate being called a dog. With a furious snarl, he dashed at Alex, zigzagging across the beach to confuse him.

But Alex calmly tracked his every move.

When Wesker finally appeared in front of him and struck, Alex simply sidestepped. Wesker's foot slammed into the ground, sending sand flying and leaving behind a crater. Alex took note: Wesker was far stronger than the four opponents he had previously faced.

"I admit, you're stronger than your pawns," Alex said, stepping aside. "But still… who wants me dead so badly? Will you satisfy my curiosity?" He lit a cigarette, lazily glancing at his opponent.

Wesker didn't answer. He vanished again, darting around in a blur, trying to catch Alex off guard. Alex just rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? Again?"

He had no trouble tracking Wesker's every reappearance. Each dash left dents and destruction behind. Suddenly, Wesker appeared at his side in a crouch, ready to strike Alex's ribs with an open palm. Alex instantly grabbed his arm, stopping the attack. Yet even so, the impact was strong enough to crack the ground behind him.

Wesker frowned. He tried to yank his arm free — in vain.

"Grit your teeth. This is gonna hurt," Alex warned, raising his hand to strike.

Wesker frowned, but before he could do anything, Alex's fist slammed into his face with a dull, bone-crunching thud. The glasses on Wesker's face shattered, and his body was launched across the beach, bouncing off the sand several times before crashing into a rock formation. The blow had been so powerful that Wesker felt its force reverberate through every inch of his body.

As he tried to get up, he suddenly realized one of his arms was missing. Scowling, he stared at the stump, which immediately began to regenerate with a quiet crackling sound, restoring itself into a full arm. Alex, who had been calmly standing in place the whole time, was holding the severed limb in his hands. Once he confirmed that the regeneration had worked, he casually tossed it aside.

"Interesting..." Alex thought. "If it were an entire body instead of just a limb... would a copy be created? Or does his regeneration merely restore, not duplicate?"

But what intrigued him even more was something else—who exactly were "they," and why were they hunting him? From Wesker's vague hints, it was clear this wasn't the work of a lone individual but an organization or a group of beings. Davoth, as far as Alex was concerned, was out of the game for now. That narrowed the list of suspects. Still, before jumping to conclusions, it was worth drawing out more information. And the best way to do that—was to prolong the fight.

Alex took a step forward—and in the next instant, he was standing right in front of Wesker. The latter's eyes narrowed to slits as he realized he had missed the moment. Alex struck his palm into Wesker's chest—an invisible slash carved through Wesker's body, and the rock wall behind him shattered into countless fragments. Then, without giving him a chance to recover, Alex spun and kicked him square in the face, sending him flying deeper into the island.

Wesker crashed through trees and smashed through stone, feeling every impact. But Alex didn't let him fall. He caught up mid-air, grabbed Wesker by the face, and drove him into the ground with such force that a deep crater was left in the earth. Raising his arm for another strike, he swung—but Wesker used his hands as leverage to kick Alex's arm away, deflecting the attack. Then he pushed off and leapt back, brushing the dirt from his shoulders.

"You blocked the strike... But will you handle the next one?" Alex said calmly, locking eyes with his opponent. "If this is all you've got, I'd suggest surrendering."

"This isn't over," Wesker growled through clenched teeth.

He suddenly raised both palms, aiming them at Alex. A dense surge of demonic energy began forming rapidly in his hands. Alex arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised Wesker was capable of such a technique—but only for a moment.

He vanished from his spot and reappeared at Wesker's side. In that same instant, Wesker's arms were severed, and the energy dissipated harmlessly into the air. Alex spun and delivered a brutal kick to Wesker's face. This time, he didn't go flying—but his lower jaw and tongue were completely obliterated, and thick black blood poured from his mangled mouth.

Sensing danger, Wesker leapt backward. His body began to regenerate again with alarming speed.

"You know… regeneration is a curse," Alex said as he slowly approached. "On one hand, you're hard to kill. On the other—you feel the pain of every strike, over and over. It doesn't fade. It builds."

He waved a hand toward Wesker. Sensing something, Wesker quickly sidestepped—but the freshly regenerated arm was sliced off once more. It regrew again, and Wesker finally began to understand what Alex had meant. He felt every nerve, every millimeter of his reconstructed flesh. Now he was beginning to understand—why regeneration truly was a curse.

Alex stood calmly, waiting. He knew that sooner or later, Wesker would speak. He would give away what was needed.

"Well, are you sure you can continue the fight?" Alex smirked, lighting a new cigarette. "Alright, I'll stick around a little longer. Until you bore me… or say what I want to hear."

"Don't get cocky, false savior!" Wesker shouted, spreading his arms and arrogantly tilting his head back. "The power I possess exceeds everything a human is capable of! I am immortal... I am almost a god!"

Alex's eye twitched. He found himself asking the same question again—why did every idiot with a drop of power immediately develop a god complex? No sane person truly understands what it means to be a god or the burden that comes with such power. And even if a person does become a god, like Buddha, they can still be killed. Wesker had gained only a pitiful spark of power and already fancied himself omnipotent.

"Alex, why do all the people you fight act the same?" Hlökk said, materializing behind Alex in her spiritual form, crossing her arms over her chest. "I get the feeling that as soon as they gain power from someone or something, their minds snap and they think they're gods."

"Honestly? No idea," Alex sighed tiredly, glancing at Wesker, who was basking in his own self-importance. "Every time some melodramatic villain with inflated ambitions shows up, five minutes later they're convinced they're a god."

"Then just finish him off. Why waste time on this half-baked villain? What difference does it make who wants to kill you—none of them will succeed anyway," Alvitr intervened lazily, appearing behind Alex and resting her hands on his head.

Alex paused for a moment, considering. Alvitr was right. No one in this world could harm him, and continuing the fight with Wesker might indeed be pointless. But... Alex wanted to know who those idiots were who considered him a threat. His performance, stretching from the very beginning, was nearing its climax. With each step, he revealed more of his power—luring out those who were pulling strings from the shadows.

"Why not just read his memories, like you usually do? Or do you, sorry, have a fetish for beating the answers out of people?" Geirölul asked with mild irritation, appearing with a frown.

Alex opened his mouth to retort but quickly realized—she was right. He did prefer pulling answers through force, even when he could simply look into someone's mind. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that. However, the three Valkyries had already given him mocking looks, hearing everything—being spiritually connected to him and reading his thoughts like an open book.

With a grimace, Alex turned away as the Valkyries laughed at him. He muttered something about the unfairness of the world and decided that all of his irritation would be poured out on Wesker.

Meanwhile, Wesker, still smirking, stared at Alex, but suddenly noticed three female figures behind him, calmly conversing. His eyes narrowed. He had clearly seen something he shouldn't have. The Valkyries felt his gaze and responded with identical mocking smirks. Hlökk even flipped him off before disappearing into Alex's spiritual space with a satisfied grin.

Alex understood where Wesker was looking but wasn't surprised in the slightest.

"So, are you finally going to tell me who really wants me dead?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"The truth won't change your fate. They fear the birth of another monster, one that even hell trembled at. Your death is their attempt to prevent the horror from repeating," Wesker replied, squinting and looking at Alex with arrogance.

"So, they fear the rise of the new Doom Slayer..." Alex said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "That really narrows down the list of suspects. Hmmm... Let me think for a moment, and don't interrupt."

Wesker's eyes narrowed even further. He realized that the man before him knew much more than he let on. Perhaps he even knew the name of the very monster that the priests feared to speak aloud.

A smile tugged at Alex's lips. He understood everything. The answer was clear—the three treacherous priests who had personally imprisoned the Doom Slayer and his brothers in hell. There, they fought without rest, slaughtering legions of demons until only one remained—the Slayer. One against all of hell.

"The correct answer is... the priests of the underworld. The ones who fear the birth of the new Doom Slayer... What else can you expect from treacherous scum?" Alex said with a smirk, shrugging.

"Who are you?" Wesker asked grimly.

Alex's smile widened, his teeth gleaming in anticipation.

"You didn't know? You and your buddies call me the False Savior. Well, here's a little revelation for you..."

Alex vanished from his spot and, in the next instant, appeared right in front of Wesker. His hand pierced through the man's chest with terrifying precision, going straight through the flesh. Wesker's back was punctured by Alex's arm, which gripped a black heart, slowly pulsing and releasing dark blood.

"I'm much worse than you could ever imagine. I'm scarier than the one who gave you this power. So, Wesker... Show me what the power you traded your freedom for is really capable of," Alex said, yanking his hand out of Wesker's body.

He squeezed the heart, crushing it in his palm, and at that very moment, the demonic power inside Wesker's body spiraled out of control. A stream of foul energy erupted from him, growing into a black storm. The explosion of demonic power was far stronger than Alex had anticipated—the shockwave obliterated everything within a few kilometers. The ground trembled, and the part of the island where they stood turned into a pile of debris and craters.

At the very center of the destruction, in the epicenter of the massive crater, stood Wesker, letting out a piercing, inhuman scream. He writhed in pain as his body contorted, breaking under the onslaught of foreign power. Alex leaped back and stood at the edge of the crater, watching his opponent undergo a transformation.

"Let's see what you become when you lose the last remnants of your humanity," he muttered, crossing his arms.

The dark energy coalesced around Wesker, forming a black dome that engulfed him. The dome began to expand, cracking like a shell unable to contain the monster inside. Alex calmly sat on the edge, propping his cheek with his hand, waiting for the resolution.

Soon, the dome shattered into fragments, and a pillar of demonic energy shot into the sky, even more powerful than before. Alex looked up, watching as the sky turned blood-red, covered by swirling crimson clouds.

"Curious influence, don't you think, Zhang Ya?" he remarked lazily, glancing sideways.

Zhang Ya sat next to him, softly leaning her head on his shoulder. She silently nodded and closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. Alex looked back at the sky, inhaling the metallic scent of blood and despair that filled the air.

"I wonder if it will rain blood?" he said thoughtfully.

There was no reply. Zhang Ya remained silent, as if lulled by the quiet before the storm. Meanwhile, the pillar of energy began to fade, but the consequences of the catastrophe were far from gone. Alex glanced around, assessing the scale of the destruction. The radius of the damage exceeded his expectations.

When the last wave of energy dissipated, and the dust settled, Alex lowered his gaze to the crater. There, standing, was the new Wesker.

He was taller, his hair had turned white, curved horns had grown from his head, and wings and a tail sprouted from his back. His demonic form was complete. His eyes were closed but suddenly snapped open, and he let out a furious roar that shook the ground once more.

Alex raised an eyebrow, watching with interest.

"Hey! Are you still Wesker... or just a dumb monster now?" he shouted with a smirk.

Wesker's eyes blazed with a fiery light as he glared at Alex, who was calmly sitting next to Zhang Ya. In the next moment, Wesker launched himself at them, crashing toward them with a deafening roar, destroying everything around the spot where he had just been.

Zhang Ya, still leaning on Alex's shoulder, opened her eyes. They burned with grim malice. When Wesker came within striking distance, her hair, as if alive, shot forward and pierced his body. Zhang Ya's eyes, filled with bloodlust, never left Wesker. He growled as dozens of sharp strands pierced his body. With one swift motion, she tore him in half. However, Wesker's body immediately began to regenerate as though no damage had been done.

Flapping his wings, he soared into the sky. Alex looked up and sighed—he wasn't about to let Wesker go. He kissed Zhang Ya on the cheek. The ghostly girl looked at him, nodded, and vanished into the air.

Alex stood up, crouched slightly, and with a powerful leap, shot up after Wesker. In the sky, he caught up with him, grabbed his leg, and yanked him downward. Wesker, like a meteor, plummeted to the ground, crashing through the upper floors of the complex and crashing into the laboratories on the lower levels.

Alex followed him, flying straight into the breach. He landed on Wesker with such force that the island trembled from the shockwave. The complex, already riddled with damage, began to collapse.

Wesker rose. In his hand appeared a blade, woven from demonic energy, as if it had grown out of his flesh. Alex noticed this and quickly jumped back. Wesker lunged at him, swinging the blade, but Alex gracefully vaulted over it, dodging the strike.

"Cleaving," Alex said calmly, raising two fingers.

Wesker's body was instantly covered with numerous cuts. Strikes left marks on the walls behind him, and black blood poured from his wounds. But once again, the wounds quickly healed.

Alex smirked, taking a step to the side, and used "Cleaving" again. However, the wounds vanished almost immediately, as if they had never been there.

He understood — Wesker's regeneration depended on his demonic energy. The more wounds he had, the faster his reserves would burn out.

Wesker roared, and his tail shattered the floor beneath Alex's feet. Alex found himself in free fall. Sensing danger behind him, Alex twisted in mid-air and extended his arms to block the incoming blow. Wesker struck with such force that Alex was sent flying upward, crashing through the floors like a cannonball.

"Well, now I'm the projectile," muttered Alex, flipping in the air and slowing himself down to avoid flying out of the building. He grabbed the ceiling and stopped his flight.

At that moment, he noticed Wesker charging toward him. Alex pushed off and flew toward him. Dodging the blade, he grabbed Wesker by the face and, with fury, carried him back down.

As they tore through the destroyed floors, Alex slammed Wesker into the ground again and again, each blow causing underground tremors. The complex groaned under the pressure.

Lifting Wesker by the head, Alex continued to use his body as a battering ram, smashing walls and destroying what was left of the laboratory. He wasn't planning to stop until everything was reduced to rubble.

Finally, Alex spun around and hurled Wesker into the air with great force. Wesker flew out of the ruins of the complex, and with a flap of his wings, he stopped midair.

Alex followed, hovering in front of him.

"Resilient, I'll give you that," Alex said with a cold smirk, staring directly into Wesker's eyes.

But Wesker only growled in response, and with a flap of his wings, he appeared right in front of Alex, raising the demonic blade to strike. Alex's eyes flashed, and, dodging the attack, he struck Wesker in the face with his foot, sending him flying again. In the next moment, Alex disappeared from his position and reappeared behind Wesker, punching him in the spine.

Wesker, unfazed, spun mid-air, flapped his wings, and charged at Alex. A fierce battle ensued at incredible speeds — their silhouettes appearing and disappearing in the sky, accompanied by deafening shockwaves. Even from the deck of the aircraft carrier, where the entire group had gathered, the force of their clashes could be felt. Some of the more observant members were already using binoculars or drones to keep track of the fight.

"I'm starting to doubt we're dealing with a zombie apocalypse," said R, watching the sky where Alex and Wesker were furiously battling.

"Why?" asked Lehm, turning his head toward him and releasing a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Why? I'm not the only one seeing Alex fighting that damn demon! In the sky! This isn't giant zombies or mutants made from piles of bodies. It's a demon with wings!" R replied, pointing a finger at the sky.

His logic was hard to refute. But everything they had seen in the underground laboratory made them question whether the being in front of them was truly a demon. If it hadn't been for the creatures in the capsules filled with liquid, they might have already believed R's version. Though the blood-red sky still suggested something supernatural.

"I have a theory as to why Alex is fighting an opponent that resembles a demon," said Akisame, stroking his mustache.

"Well, spill it, genius," muttered Sugetsu, taking a sip from his bottle.

"I dare to suggest that this is the result of a virus affecting people skilled in martial arts. Many of those saved from the laboratory are somehow connected to this world. Therefore, this is the final stage of mutation. Remember Diego — he already resembled what Alex is fighting now," Akisame reasoned, voicing his conclusions.

His words helped clarify things a bit, especially for those who had doubts about who Alex was truly fighting. Alex's girls exchanged glances as they watched the battle. They were secretly relieved that no one had figured out the demonic nature of the situation and were attributing everything to the virus. They all understood that revealing the truth could cause panic and distrust within the group.

"It's good that Master Akisame is so wise and observant," sighed Miu.

"You're right. But, Miu, the more observant ones tend to get to the truth first," Koko reminded, glancing at her friend.

"Good thing Alex threw in that story about the virus and the apocalypse," Rei smirked, nodding.

"Definitely. Such a talent for convincing lies — it's an art," Ada said with a sarcastic grin.

"Oh, you'd know about that," Becca rolled her eyes. "You could convince anyone with a story and not even blink."

Ada only smirked and turned her gaze back to the sky, where the battle still raged. There were lively conversations on the deck, but the newcomers, who had just been rescued from the underground laboratory, were in the greatest shock. Especially irritated was Juri, who kept pestering Chun-Li, demanding either to share her husband or at least "get a taste" of him.

Chun-Li's nerves finally gave way, and she lunged at Juri. Juri, in turn, didn't hold back — a scuffle broke out between them. But no one paid much attention to the fighting girls.

Meanwhile, the kids on the deck were cheering for Alex even louder. Anya and Alice had already gotten acquainted, and Alice quickly pulled the new girl into her group, which also included Malka and Honoka. A strong friendship quickly formed between them.

Alex continued to beat Wesker in the sky. Each of his strikes sent the opponent flying in different directions, like a ragdoll. Gradually, Wesker's regeneration began to slow down — his body was no longer healing as quickly as before. Alex was starting to grow tired of the brawl. It was starting to feel like beating a piñata, from which instead of sweets, blood and bones were spilling out.

He had long lost count of how many bones he had broken in Wesker's body and how many times the man had almost reassembled himself from a pile of pulp. If not for the fear of scaring off a more dangerous enemy too soon, Alex would have finished Wesker off the moment they arrived on the island. But now, he had decided not to waste any more time.

Clenching his fist, Alex turned toward Wesker and struck.

"Evening Elephant," he said.

The first blow hit Wesker like a hurricane's gust. A powerful wave of compressed air slammed into him, and before he was sent flying back, Alex teleported behind him and struck again. Then came three more blows, one after another, each with compressed air. Wesker found himself trapped — each strike prevented him from escaping the confining pressure of the air.

Alex pushed off from the air and soared higher into the sky, breaking through the clouds with his body. At that moment, Brunhilda, standing on the deck, realized what he was about to do.

"Everyone hold on!" she screamed, warning the others.

Her voice snapped everyone out of their stupor. People immediately started grabbing onto anything they could find to keep from being blown off the deck. Chun-Li and Juri, who had been fighting up until then, stopped. Juri looked around in confusion, but seeing Chun-Li grabbing the support beams, she understood — the shout wasn't just panic.

The group of children was shielded by the martial arts masters. Apachai and Zangief stood in front of them, exchanged a look, and without words, understood each other. They used their bodies as living shields, protecting the children from the impending shockwave. Clasping each other's hands as a sign of newfound friendship, they braced themselves for the power Alex was about to unleash.

Those who had trained with Alex in chakra control began using it, concentrating it in their feet to grip the deck. The first to do this was one of Alex's girls — the rest who knew the technique followed suit. Those who didn't control chakra simply clung as tightly as they could to the railings and ropes.

"Goddamn... Not again... Last time I almost flew overboard!" Itami muttered in panic, looking around.

"Itami, what's going on?!" Aoi asked, noticing everyone preparing for something.

"Get ready for an impact... Come here so you don't get blown away," he said, pulling Aoi toward him and securing her to his harness with a carabiner.

Aoi still didn't understand what was happening but decided to trust Itami. She pressed close to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, trying not to interfere with his movements. Rebecca Chambers and Claire didn't stay out of it either — they followed the others' lead and grabbed onto something firmly. Barry, Moira, and Jill looked bewildered.

"Jill, Barry, Moira, what are you doing, frozen in place? Or do you want to get blown away by the wind?!" Claire shouted, securing herself to the railing with a carabiner.

"What's going on?! Why is everyone suddenly grabbing onto anything that isn't nailed down?!" Moira asked in confusion.

"Remember I told you we have our own entertainment — watching Alex fight? Well... it usually ends with a huge shockwave. And if you don't want to be thrown overboard, you'd better hold on tight," Rebecca explained, securing the carabiner next to Jill.

The trio exchanged glances and, without asking any unnecessary questions, followed Rebecca and Claire's advice. They all looked up at the sky. A dull rumble sounded through the air, as if the sky itself were cracking. The clouds parted with a roar, splitting apart as if in fear. Through the rift in the heavens, a crimson dragon fell, like a meteor — shining, majestic, and terrifying. Its target was clear: Wesker.

"What the hell?!" Moira swore, looking up in disbelief and horror.

"This is the final... Hold on tight," Claire replied, gripping the support.

Alex, surrounded by an aura of crimson flames, was at the very center of the dragon. Reaching the highest point in the sky, he pushed off the air and rapidly descended, using the "Night Moth" technique. The air screamed with speed. Energy swirled around him, taking the form of the familiar dragon. Extending his foot forward, Alex fell like celestial retribution.

Wesker looked up and roared, unwilling to accept the inevitable. The space around him distorted — the air compressed, reality cracked. In a split second, Alex's foot slammed into him, crushing flesh and bone, driving him into the ground. The blow was so powerful that Wesker was sent plummeting downward, but Alex increased the pressure, twisting his foot slightly, as if deliberately squeezing the last remnants of resistance out of his opponent.

The next moment marked the end. Their bodies crashed into the island with a deafening noise. An explosion followed, so powerful that its echo seemed to roll across the entire ocean. The ground shattered into pieces. Debris from the island shot up into the sky before falling back into the sea, creating enormous waves. The ocean raged. Water surged over the aircraft carrier, drenching those still on the deck.

The first wave hit them with cold, salty water. The second soaked them to the bone. The deck turned into one massive waterfall. People clung to whatever they could in panic. Some cursed, others laughed, but the children, protected by the heroes, laughed loudly, as if enjoying a water park.

When the storm finally settled and the water drained overboard, only a peaceful, empty stretch of ocean remained where the island had once stood.

"Goddamn... he destroyed the whole damn island..." Moira whispered in disbelief.

"Moira, watch your language," Barry muttered, shooting a stern look at his daughter.

She just rolled her eyes, gazing at the spot where the grim island — once her prison — had been. Conversations buzzed around her — some with irritation, some with relief. But almost all of them circled around one thing: "We got drenched again because of this crazy psychopath."

The girls stood in silence. Wet hair clung to their faces and bodies, and their clothes stuck to their skin. Their gazes were empty, filled with exhaustion. This time, Alex's battle didn't impress them at all. Especially because the final act had turned into a cold shower for them.

They exchanged a silent glance. The decision was made without words. This time, Alex wouldn't receive hugs and kisses for his victory — but a well-deserved, collective retribution.

To be continued...

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