Another day, another textbook reminder why feminists no matter which country they originate from remain a cancer upon society. Despite being unable to point to a single right or privilege that men alone enjoy today, they stay busy demonizing and ostracizing men both in everyday life and even in fictional spaces meant for escapism.
Under the banner of “equality” and “liberation,” feminists have torn at the fabric of civilization, pushing for mass immigration, invading male-dominated hobbies only to demand censorship and change, and slandering high-trust societies like Japan as dens of predators despite Japan having some of the lowest crime rates in the world.
Their crusade was never about equality; it’s about domination, about reducing men to second-class citizens they resent and, deep down, wish would die off completely and now the latest display of feminist absurdity comes courtesy of Blue Archive, the wildly popular mobile gacha game developed by Nexon.
In a collaboration with the Korean Red Cross, Blue Archive helped spark a massive, unprecedented surge in blood donations across South Korea, literally saving lives. And yet, even this was not safe from feminist outrage.
However, this life-saving campaign didn’t come without backlash. Radical Korean feminists immediately called for a boycott, exposing the deep cultural rift in a nation locked in a bitter gender war, a conflict stoked by extremist movements like the 4B movement whose followers reject dating, marriage, sex, and even having children.
The collaboration, announced on April 14, 2025, sought to harness Blue Archive’s immense popularity to promote volunteerism and foster a stronger culture of blood donation. By April 21, 2025, the Korean Red Cross officially launched a blood drive campaign featuring characters from Blue Archive, the hit anime-style mobile game celebrated for its charming “academia girls” aesthetic.
Donors who took part were rewarded with exclusive, limited-edition postcards showcasing beloved characters from the game. The initiative specifically targeted the game’s passionate fanbase, called the “mania” class to drive participation and boost blood donation efforts.
The response from the Blue Archive fandom was swift and overwhelming. According to the Korean Red Cross Blood Management Headquarters, by 3:31 p.m. on April 21, 2025, nationwide blood donations had reached 5,539 participants, nearly eclipsing the previous day’s total of 5,553.
A post on a Blue Archive community forum titled “People who suddenly donate blood today” highlighted that by 11 a.m. alone, over 1,600 people had already rolled up their sleeves to donate.
Some called it “the Deokhu miracle” with the word “Deokhu” being the Korean pronunciation on the Japanese word otaku, referring to hardcore fan culture while others celebrated the campaign’s brilliance with slogans like “Deokhu saves the world,” “This is why marketing matters,” and “Let’s draw blood and characters.”
The surge in blood donations couldn’t have come at a better time, as South Korea, like many densely populated nations, often struggles to maintain a stable blood supply.
However, despite its success, the campaign has faced fierce backlash from South Korea’s radical feminist groups. The country, long a flashpoint for gender conflicts, has seen tensions rise with the growth of the “4B” movement, which encourages women to reject all relationships with men.
Some Korean feminists not only boycotted the blood drive but also proclaimed how they’d refused transfusions from male donors and urged other women to avoid donating during the campaign.
Social media posts reveal the intensity of the backlash, with complaints ranging from outrage over the Korean Red Cross associating itself with properties like Blue Archive, criticized for “sexualizing women” and allegedly promoting “pedophilia” to accusations that enticing men to donate blood through anime characters is a patriarchal scheme.
Radical feminists called on women to boycott the campaign, with some expressing extreme views, such as preferring death over receiving life-saving blood from a male donor, or even saying they would kill their own child if the child proudly donated blood because of the Blue Archive promotion.
Many claimed the health and safety of real women were being sacrificed for the sake of male otaku culture, reinforcing their condemnation of the campaign as immoral, predatory, misogynistic, and a tool of systemic oppression.
This stance mirrors an earlier controversy in Japan, when the Japanese Red Cross faced backlash in 2019 for partnering with Uzaki-chan Wants to Hang Out! in a blood donation campaign. Feminists both within Japan and abroad, especially foreign entities like Unseen Japan, which have built careers criticizing Japan denounced the campaign as “over-sexualized,” focusing on the character Uzaki Hana’s depiction as a short, busty 19-year-old college student.
The uproar led to a temporary suspension of the campaign, which reportedly caused a drop in blood donations, before it was reinstated in January 2020 due to overwhelming popular demand.
The controversy became a hot topic on Japanese talk shows like Sukkiri, where commentators openly mocked Unseen Japan and others, highlighting the cultural gap over anime portrayals and criticizing the tendency to equate animated characters with real minors while lamenting their “sexualization.”
Similarly, the Korean feminist boycott of this Blue Archive campaign reflects a broader ideological position: that protecting their moral principles is more important than preserving human life.
By portraying the campaign as a male-driven exploitation of children and women, they argue that participating in or benefiting from it would perpetuate patriarchal structures. However, this view has faced strong pushback, with critics accusing them of endangering public health. Many label these feminists as “social parasites,” arguing that prioritizing ideology over life-saving efforts is both harmful and delusional.
Adding weight to this criticism, studies have found that individuals identifying as Liberal are more likely to prioritize empathy toward non-human entities such as plants, trees, or even rocks over human beings, based on a zero-sum empathy framework.
The argument cites a psychological study in which participants distributed “moral units” across concentric circles from immediate family to “all things in existence.” The results showed that liberals tend to spread their empathy more broadly, often extending concern to non-human entities, while conservatives prioritize the inner circles, such as family, friends, and fellow humans.
This universalist moral approach, the study argues, comes at a cost: the more empathy allocated to distant or non-human entities, the less remains for close human relationships. As a result, the study suggests that liberal moral reasoning inadvertently devalue human life, thus making them nothing but a threat to human survival by placing non-humans above people in moral priority.
The Blue Archive blood donation campaign, much like the Uzaki-chan collaboration in Japan, highlights a persistent cultural clash between anime-centric subcultures and feminist critics. In both instances, anime imagery has proven effective at drawing in younger male donors, many of whom are typically underrepresented in blood donation drives and, crucially, not part of high-risk groups that carry STDs or other disgusting diseases, yet the campaigns spark accusations of sexualization and objectification.
While Blue Archive features high school-aged characters, fans generally engage with the game as a whimsical, community-focused experience. Nexon has even leaned into this by promoting socially beneficial initiatives like the blood drive. Nonetheless, for radical feminists, the game’s association with a predominantly male fanbase positions it as yet another manifestation of entrenched misogyny and patriarchal culture.
South Korea’s ongoing gender conflict, inflamed by the rise of the 4B movement, sets the stage for this controversy. The movement, rooted in a rejection of marriage, and childbearing has gained momentum in a climate of deepening polarization. As a result, even initiatives like the Blue Archive blood drive become flashpoints in a larger cultural war, with companies caught in the crossfire for daring to appeal to male audiences.
The contrast is glaring: on one side, thousands of fans rallied to donate blood, motivated by their passion for a game, yet contributing to a vital public good. On the other, a small but vocal group of radical feminists chose to wage ideological warfare, framing a life-saving campaign as yet another offense against themselves no matter the positive impact.
Instead of celebrating a campaign that albeit temporarily helped stabilize South Korea’s fragile blood supply, these activists condemned it as a misogynistic ploy that promotes pedophilia, revealing the depth of their ideological rigidity. When moral purity tests are applied to humanitarian aid, it’s not just the campaign that suffers, it’s real people whose lives are at stake.
In the end, reality drowned out the outrage. Fandom stepped up, blood was donated, and lives will be saved. Meanwhile, those consumed by resentment chose to remove themselves from the most basic expression of empathy: helping your fellow countrymen.
As many netizens aptly put it: “Deokhu saves the world.”
