What Is The Main Plot Of Gyo By Junji Ito?

Gyo by Junji Ito is this wild, unsettling ride that starts off bizarre and just spirals into full-blown nightmare fuel. It begins with a couple, Tadashi and Kaori, on vacation when they encounter a weird, rotting fish that walks on mechanical legs. Yeah, you read that right—walking fish. But it doesn’t stop there. Soon, these grotesque, stench-filled creatures start appearing everywhere, and the horror escalates when larger sea creatures, even sharks, start lumbering onto land with the same mechanical legs. The story dives deep into body horror and paranoia, especially as Kaori becomes obsessed with the smell and starts losing her mind. The underlying themes of decay, pollution, and the unnatural merging of Biology and machinery make it more than just a horror manga—it’s a visceral critique of human recklessness. The ending is as chaotic as it gets, leaving you with this lingering sense of dread.

What really stuck with me was how Ito uses the grotesque to mirror real-world anxieties. The way the ‘death stench’ spreads and infects people feels like a metaphor for disease or environmental collapse. And the mechanical legs? They’re later revealed to be part of a wartime experiment gone wrong, which adds this layer of historical horror. It’s not just about monsters; it’s about how humanity’s mistakes come back to haunt us in the most grotesque ways possible. If you’re into horror that makes your skin crawl while making you think, this is a must-read.

Junji Ito’s 'Gyo' is a masterclass in escalating dread. It starts with a simple, bizarre premise—fish with mechanical legs—and spirals into a full-blown ecological horror story. The protagonist, Tadashi, is your everyman thrown into a world where sea creatures invade land, their rotting bodies fused with creepy, spider-like legs. The real horror isn’t just the creatures, though; it’s the ‘death stench’ they carry, a smell so potent it drives people insane. Kaori, Tadashi’s girlfriend, becomes a victim of it, her paranoia and physical deterioration adding a personal layer to the chaos. The reveal that the legs are from a failed wartime experiment ties everything together in a way that’s both shocking and eerily plausible.

The art is what sells it. Ito’s detailed, grotesque illustrations make the walking fish and later, the Giant sharks, feel unnervingly real. The way he draws decay—the sagging flesh, the rusted metal—is almost tactile. And the pacing? Perfect. It’s a slow burn that suddenly erupts into madness. By the end, you’re left with this overwhelming sense of futility, like humanity’s doom was inevitable. It’s not a story you ‘enjoy’ in the traditional sense, but one that haunts you long after you’ve closed the book.

Imagine waking up to the sound of something scraping against your floor, only to find a fish—not flopping, but walking on spindly, mechanical legs. That’s the opening hook of 'Gyo,' and it only gets weirder from there. The story follows Tadashi, a young guy trying to protect his girlfriend Kaori from the escalating horror of these creatures. At first, it’s just one fish, but soon, entire ecosystems seem to be invading the land, dragging their rotting bodies around with these unnatural appendages. The tension builds as Kaori becomes increasingly unhinged, convinced the smell of the creatures is following her. The plot takes a sci-fi turn when Tadashi discovers the legs are remnants of a secret military project, turning the whole thing into a bio-mechanical apocalypse.

What I love about 'Gyo' is how Ito blends absurdity with genuine terror. The idea of a walking shark shouldn’t be scary, but the way he draws it—all rusted metal and decaying flesh—somehow makes it horrifying. The manga doesn’t shy away from gore or psychological horror, either. Kaori’s descent into madness is as disturbing as the creatures themselves. It’s a story that lingers, not just because of the visuals, but because of the underlying message about humanity’s hubris. The ending is bleak and open-ended, which feels fitting for a tale this chaotic.