Scene change—
Orsaga (Clone).
At the moment, he was basking in the enthusiastic praise of the residents of Elm Street.
Even the town mayor had come personally by car to shake Orsaga's hand, his face filled with emotion as he said,
"Thank you for putting your life on the line to eliminate Freddy, the vengeful spirit that's haunted us for decades!"
Orsaga smiled modestly and nodded,
"Oh, it was nothing. Just doing my part…"
The other townsfolk swarmed around him like fanatical fans, showering him with sycophantic praise, shameless in their flattery.
In their eyes, the man who had finally destroyed Freddy was nothing short of divine. A God-sent savior. An angel descended from the heavens.
He had delivered them from a living nightmare.
Clearly, the people had long suffered under the torment of Freddy—the Nightmare Chaplin—and their gratitude toward Orsaga was overflowing.
A righteous demon who punished evil and protected the innocent.
Orsaga was the people's hero.
At least, as long as he didn't try to rob them—or kill them for no reason.
Listening to the adulation around him, Orsaga puffed up his chest with pride, thoroughly enjoying himself.
'Yes… praise me more… I can take it…'
Back when he'd founded the Crimson Hour Church in the Harry Potter world, it wasn't just for harvesting faith energy.
He genuinely enjoyed being worshipped.
Unaware that he was still reveling in praise, the mayor took a small box from his assistant and opened it in front of the crowd.
Inside was a golden badge, emblazoned with Orsaga's face.
"Here, Mr. Orsaga! This is a joint Hero's Medal, awarded by our town and nearby Grandi Town. You will forever be our friend!"
Yes, after learning that Orsaga had been granted the title of Small-Town Hero for saving another community from a vengeful spirit, the towns of Freddy and Jason put their heads together.
And came up with a plan:
A combined Hero Medal—plus a $20 million check.
Simple. Brutal. Effective.
Who could complain with that kind of bonus?
With the award ceremony concluded, the once-unknown name "Orsaga" officially appeared on the International Exorcists Association's top-tier ranking list.
Countless groups tormented by vengeful spirits and monsters alike began to pay attention.
After all, anyone who could eliminate two targets ranked at "Red Threat Level"—
(Technically two and a half, since Mary Shaw only counted as a partial, being banished instead of destroyed)— had proven themselves capable beyond question.
There was no way it was just dumb luck.
Many began scrambling to contact Orsaga, hoping he could come save them next.
But there was just one issue:
Orsaga didn't even own a phone.
He was a freelance exorcist—completely at the mercy of fate.
Meanwhile, some far less friendly individuals had also taken note of him—
Namely: the Purgators.
Seeing his oddly out-of-place appearance on the forums, and reading the kill logs of red-tier threats, it wasn't hard to put two and two together.
Anyone with a functioning brain could tell he wasn't a native of this world.
In this kind of horror-themed world, Jason and Freddy were practically main characters.
Normal locals could maybe delay or fend them off for a while.
But to kill both in one go?
Impossible—unless you weren't from around here.
---
Japan.
"Damn it… he's already killed two of them…"
Staring at the screen, one Purgator was practically frothing with envy.
Especially considering his current situation—
Upon entering this world, he had somehow provoked Sadako,
and while fleeing, accidentally burned down Kayako's house.
How's that for bad luck?
And so began his endless escape saga.
Currently, he had already run halfway around Tokyo.
Behind him, the entire Saeki family—alongside Sadako—had chased him nonstop.
At this point, disaster followed him like a curse: cruise ships sinking, trains derailing, gas line explosions.
He'd unintentionally dragged thousands of innocent people into the chaos.
But what could he do?
If he stopped, they'd catch him—and it wouldn't end well.
As for the Japanese government?
Once they discovered that Kayako and Sadako were haunting Tokyo, they did some digging.
And like any good bureaucracy, when they couldn't solve the problem itself…
They decided to deal with the one who caused the problem.
They zeroed in on the Purgator.
Of course, the poor guy was completely unaware of this.
His real surprise hadn't even arrived yet:
Being hunted by both vengeful spirits and the Japanese government.
Double the thrill. Double the fun.
---
China – Deep Mountains.
"Ahh GIAO! Don't come any closer!!"
Another Purgator was running for his life.
Chasing him through the shadows was a thin, desiccated figure.
All he'd wanted was to find a few hopping zombies to farm for the main storyline—
So he casually unearthed an ancient tomb.
He thought it was just a lucky encounter…
But no. He ended up awakening a millennium-old zombie king dressed in Song Dynasty robes.
This guy was already halfway evolved into a flying night fiend!
Even with a few tricks up his sleeve, he was still just a human.
He silently cursed his parents for not giving him four legs instead of two.
He needed more speed.
---
Egypt – Somewhere in the Desert.
RATATATATATA—
A squad of gunmen was being relentlessly chased.
Behind them: thousands of mummy guardians in pursuit.
Even worse, dozens of priest-like mummies were chanting from afar, casting powerful spells.
A massive sandstorm loomed in the distance, ready to engulf everything.
The team's commander—yet another Purgator—was near breaking point.
"I just wanted to kill TEN mummies! And you gave me thousands!!"
He was 99% sure he wasn't making it out alive.
---
India.
"Oh, my God…"
Another Purgator was fleeing in blind panic.
Behind him, four eerie, leather-clad figures stalked him with terrifying calm.
He had heard rumors of strange happenings in the Mumbai slums.
Thinking it would be an easy side quest, he went to investigate a local bar.
That was his first—and last—mistake.
As soon as he stepped inside, he saw hundreds of human corpses being torn apart by chains and iron hooks.
What should've been a lively nightclub had become a nightmarish slaughterhouse.
Blood pooled on the dance floor like a shallow lake.
And standing atop the pile of corpses—
A tall figure, his head covered in symmetrical wounds, his skull nailed through with spikes.
Any horror movie buff would recognize him instantly:
The Hell Priest, also known as Pinhead, from the Hellraiser series.
And he wasn't alone. He'd brought three henchmen with him.
The full Hell F4 ensemble was present.
The Purgator stared in stunned silence before muttering bitterly:
"Matrix Purgatory, you bastard… I'm so screwed."