"By the way, Shizuka, do you know how to get to Osaka?"
"Osaka?" She tilted her head curiously. "Isn't it unusual for you to show interest in sightseeing?" Shizuka asked, tilting her head again as she enjoyed her cup of coffee.
It was a Saturday morning, and with no classes or work to worry about, the two of them were sharing a simple breakfast.
Simple in the sense that neither Shizuka nor Desmon felt like going out to buy ingredients, so they made do with whatever was left in the pantry.
"I've got some business to take care of in a certain place," he said with a sigh, as if he didn't really want to go but had no choice.
"You? Now you've made me curious."
If it had been anything related to demon hunting, Desmon would've left without even saying goodbye.
"Wanna come?"
"I can!?"
From experience, Shizuka knew Desmon was a magnet for trouble, but he always managed somehow, so having a day of adventure didn't sound bad at all.
"I don't think it'll be a problem," he said with a shrug.
"Okay, so where are we going!?"
She took another sip of her coffee as she tried to imagine what kind of place she'd be visiting with the young demon hunter.
-I can't think of any specific place he'd need to visit in Osaka… but it might be fun.
With high expectations, she waited for Desmon's answer.
"To a hotel."
His blunt and unexpected answer made her spit out her coffee.
It was a funny and unexpected moment, except Desmon dodged it by instantly shifting to the side using his demonic energy.
Who says the techniques you learn can't be used in everyday life?
"And you call me clumsy," he scolded her with a smile, pretending to be the adult in the room.
Shizuka coughed a couple of times before calming down.
"Sorry about that… it's just that the way you said it caught me off guard." She took a few deep breaths.
Her mind had gone to the usual meaning of going to a hotel, but since it was Desmon, the reason for going there could be anything except what she had initially imagined.
"It's just a regular visit to a hotel where the clients are professional assassins, leaders of various criminal organizations, and brokers for murder contracts," he said casually as he sat back down.
This time, Shizuka didn't flinch, since Desmon had indirectly mentioned it in some of his stories.
"And what part of that sounds 'regular'!?" she still protested.
Desmon never thought too deeply about it—his sense of what was normal had been distorted for years.
"There's nothing to worry about. Those hotels have a strict rule: killing on the premises is forbidden. If you break it, they put a price on your head, which means most assassins—and a few specialized kill squads—will come after you."
As if he were an expert, Desmon explained it as best he could.
"You say that like you've actually lived through it." She sighed, already knowing the answer from the look on his face.
"It's a long story, but in my defense, that guy challenged me to kill him inside the hotel." He waved his hands as if it weren't anything noteworthy.
He had been warned more than once, but Desmon didn't hesitate for even a second before finishing his target.
-This isn't the time, but I'll ask him to tell me the story later…
Desmon still owed Shizuka plenty of stories, since his daily life before coming to Japan had been completely different.
"So how can you even go back to a place like that? Shouldn't you be banned or something?"
She asked the obvious question, sounding much calmer now.
"Let's just say I reached a ceasefire agreement or something along those lines."
Desmon instantly moved to the couch, grabbed something, and reappeared in his seat the next moment.
-Is he trying to show off that he can teleport? Ugh, I'm jealous…
Who wouldn't want to do that? Sure, the distance was short and it consumed plenty of energy, but, being Desmon—the carefree guy he was—he used it just to avoid walking.
"As proof of the negotiation, I got this."
Shizuka caught what Desmon casually tossed at her.
"Is this real?"
"I guess so. At least that's what they told me when they gave it to me."
In Shizuka's hands lay a coin—though not the kind she was used to seeing.
This one was made of white platinum, a heavy and rare material. It had a cold shine, nothing like gold. Its surface gleamed with a clean, silvery tone, as if it had just been polished.
But the most striking detail was the carved skull, crafted with incredible precision, as if someone had both the time and skill to create something of such high quality.
"If you had something like this, why didn't you ever show it?"
She knew Desmon well enough to assume he'd brag about it. He probably even had some incredible, over-the-top backstory behind it—yet he'd never mentioned it once.
"I kept it tucked away. I even forgot that it existed." He shrugged.
"How do you forget you have something like this?"
"Using it is way more complicated and tedious than it looks."
Desmon always avoided anything complicated, so she couldn't really blame him.
"…I see. So this coin gives you access to the place you want to go?"
Putting the pieces together, she had already formed an idea.
But Desmon waved his hands casually.
"I think anyone can just walk in. I'm not sure if they'd let you stay, but this coin—if I'm remembering right—lets me get anything I want for free."
Shizuka needed a few seconds to process what she'd just heard.
"Everything for free?"
"Yeah."
"What exactly do you mean by everything?"
"I mean everything."
"Weapons."
"Yep."
"Vehicles."
"Yeah."
"Houses?"
"I think so."
"Classified information?"
"Yes. And whatever else you say, the answer's still yes."
Of course, there were certain conditions attached to getting whatever he asked for, but Desmon had forgotten the details—mostly because he never paid much attention in the first place.
Shizuka blinked several times, unable to understand him. If he had those kinds of privileges, why hadn't he used them from the start to live in luxury? Instead, he was sharing an apartment with her.
"So why are you living here with me?"
"If I request something, I have to take on whatever assignment they give me… and I'd rather avoid that."
Part of Desmon's lifestyle was accepting only the jobs he personally wanted. The only exception was anything involving demons—those had a 100% acceptance rate.
"Are the jobs hard?" Shizuka asked.
"No, they're nothing crazy." He shrugged again, showing how little it bothered him. "I just don't like being ordered around."
Shizuka frowned, as if trying to understand some complex concept.
"You're going there to ask for something, right? So then…"
"Yeah, I'll have to follow their orders." He nodded.
She blinked twice, as if her brain were desperately trying to decode Desmon's logic—but failed.
"Make up your mind already! Idiot."
Shizuka tried to smack him on the head, but Desmon dodged effortlessly.
"Told you—unless I let you, your fists will never touch me."
"You're just lucky you've got better reflexes."
"Sounds like jealousy." He grinned teasingly.
"Think whatever you want."
Like a sulky teenager, she puffed her cheeks.
Shizuka had been a fan of action manga and anime since she was young, but she always understood they were just fiction.
That held true for years—until she learned that the things she thought were impossible actually existed and that dangerous creatures could end her life before she even noticed.
By all narrative logic, this was the moment she'd awaken some supernatural ability or discover a secret lineage and become the world's savior…
Unfortunately, life wasn't that convenient. So all she could do was envy Desmon—who, from her point of view, had everything needed to be the protagonist of his own story, yet spent his days acting like an idiot and sleeping.
"Stop pouting, and let's go. I don't know what kind of task they'll dump on me."
Knowing Desmon, they'd probably give him the missions no one else wanted—maybe even ones requiring him to travel across the world.
"It's not pouting. And you still haven't told me exactly where we're going."
Thinking about their destination—and what awaited them—made Shizuka excited again.
She definitely wasn't the protagonist of this story, but standing next to the troublemaker meant her daily life was anything but ordinary.
-Going to a place where professional assassins and underworld types gather… it's weird, but it kind of thrills me.
Her good mood returned just from imagining it. After all, not everyone gets to visit a place like that.
"Oh, right. I forgot to mention it." Desmon reached into his pockets and pulled out a card—the one that had come with the gift he'd received days ago. "It's called the Continental."
"That's an interesting name."
"What were you expecting?"
"Something a bit more dramatic, maybe."
Movies didn't reflect reality. They wouldn't want the place to look suspicious or flashy.
"Oh, is it a five-star hotel?" she asked, looking at her phone.
Strangely enough, it showed up in the browser like any other luxury hotel in Osaka.
"Now that you mention it, the one in New York was luxurious… though I only ever saw it from the outside."
If he wasn't required to use it, Desmon would rather avoid it. Besides, his supervisor, or "secretary," as he called her, usually assigned him jobs based on whatever information he requested. If it was a fair deal, there wasn't much to argue about.
"By the way, Desmon… if that place uses a luxury hotel as a front, what happens when regular people try to book a room? Don't tell me they just get rid of them…"
"Hahaha, I thought the same thing. But if something wants to stay hidden, it'd be stupid to start eliminating everyone who tries to go in. You've watched too many movies."
-He's got a point… but it's hard not to think about it…
Her mind connected everything to what she'd seen in movies and anime, but none of that could really be trusted.
"So what happens to them?"
"No idea. You can ask the manager—he'll probably laugh and answer you."
Desmon couldn't be an expert on a place he'd barely visited, but he had met one of the managers years ago, so he assumed they were all the same type.
"The manager?"
Shizuka's imagination kicked in, picturing the classic elderly martial arts master who leads the yakuza, lives by honor, and even hands a katana to his opponent for a proper duel.
"Whatever you're imagining… you're close. It definitely won't be a sweet old lady," he said in a teasing tone.
"A retired professional assassin?"
"I guess."
If she wanted more answers, the last person qualified to provide them was the guy standing in front of her.
And after all that talk, another question popped into her mind.
"Can I go in with you?"
"You're my guest, so… maybe?"
"'Maybe' isn't an answer." She sighed.
"I've got no clue, but there shouldn't be a problem. We'll figure it out if something comes up."
-Sometimes I wish I were as carefree as he is…
Ignorance really is bliss.
"I can't help thinking you're right…"
For someone with superhuman reflexes, strength, and speed, worrying too much didn't make much sense.
-Does this mean I'm basically teaming up with a global top-tier?
If people had levels, Desmon would be far above them.
"How long until we get there?"
Desmon's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Hmm… if we take the bullet train, about four hours." She did a quick calculation.
"We'll get there by lunchtime. That's something," Desmon said in good spirits.
Since he had to work for them anyway, he might as well make good use of everything they offered. With luck, they'd only assign him to eliminate someone who was becoming a headache.
The one good thing about working with professionals is that they provide all the necessary intel from the start—no need for him to hunt down or guess where the target is.
"Then let's get changed before we go," Shizuka said pleasantly as she handed the platinum coin back to Desmon.
"Changed? For what?" He tilted his head and slipped the coin into his pocket.
Right now, Desmon was wearing a blue T-shirt and black pants, while Shizuka was in a sleeveless blouse and shorts. The best part of being at home is dressing comfortably.
"We're going to a five-star hotel. We need to dress appropriately."
"I'm pretty sure they'd let me in even if I walked in naked."
There's no proof—but no doubt either.
"Fufufu. Shows how little you know, Desmon-kun," she said smugly. "If we're negotiating with professionals, we need to project confidence—and that starts with how we dress."
"You've been binge-watching crime dramas again."
"Just a little…"
Desmon smirked before simply nodding.
"The only formal thing I have is my Sobu High uniform."
"That works. High school uniforms count as formal wear."
After all, every country has its own customs.
"And you?"
She wanted to answer confidently, but earlier that day she had sent all her clothes to be washed.
"…Damn it," she muttered.
"I'm telling you, it's not necessary…"
Before he could continue, Shizuka cut him off.
"I remember now—I think I have something I wore a few months ago to my cousin's wedding."
With renewed energy, she headed to her bedroom, tore through her closet, and, after an exhaustive search, finally found the dress she wanted.
"Desmon, I'll take a few minutes, so I want you ready to leave when I come out."
As expected, she had to get ready properly.
The young demon hunter let out a sigh and said what any man would in his situation:
"Women…"
…
After what felt like an endless wait, Shizuka finally stepped out of her room.
"Well? What do you think?"
Standing before him wasn't the teacher or roommate he saw every day, but a woman who clearly knew exactly what she was doing. She wore an elegant black dress that hugged her waist and traced the curve of her hips. The neckline wasn't excessive, but it was just enough to make it obvious the dress was proud of what it showcased, framing her chest with a natural, almost shameless confidence. The skirt fell just long enough to keep things classy, though every small movement offered a glimpse of her long legs—details that made it hard to look away. Her tied-up hair left her face completely visible. With that confident, almost teasing smile, Shizuka had the air of a grown woman who enjoyed just a bit too much the effect she had—beautiful, yes… but dangerously charming too.
"If I didn't already know your personality, I'd honestly think you look gorgeous."
Desmon's words hit Shizuka like arrows.
-At least he said I look good… indirectly…
Using that thought to regain her composure, she cleared her throat.
"Alright, if you're ready, let's go."
Desmon nodded and headed for the door but stopped when she spoke again.
"Aren't you taking Alastor?"
The devil arm rested in one corner of the apartment, waiting for its moment to be used—though it would probably have to wait a bit longer.
"I don't have a way to hide it, and I doubt they'll let me take it on the train." He shrugged.
"You're right… so you're not taking anything with you?"
Desmon could manage perfectly well with just his fists, but when it came to efficiency, weapons were always essential.
"I'm taking these."
With a quick motion, his shirt rose just enough to reveal the new toys he had received days ago.
"I think Alastor is less illegal than those two."
"It's a good chance to try them out, so why not?"
"If you say so…"
Once ready, the two headed for Osaka.
…
"Traveling by train really bores me…"
"You know you can walk there if you want, right? So stop complaining."
She scolded him.
"I didn't say anything."
-I wonder when Kurox will come back… Taking trains is definitely not for me.
Once they left the station, they took a bus, and after half an hour, stepping off at the stop closest to their destination, they began walking.
The fastest option would've been taking a taxi, but Shizuka refused to waste her money—especially since her credit card was showing charges she definitely hadn't made…
"I shouldn't have come in heels…"
It was a fifteen-minute walk, and since she wasn't used to wearing them, the result was predictable.
"You should've worn sneakers."
"That doesn't match the dress."
A question mark practically appeared over Desmon's head.
"Since when do you act like a woman?"
"I am a woman!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."
He stopped paying attention as soon as he saw the place they had traveled so far to reach.
The Continental Hotel was a large, elegant building. It wasn't the tallest in the city, but it was tall enough to stand out. The façade mixed dark glass panels with sections of metal and stone, making it reflect the city lights at night. The main entrance was covered by a wide roof held up by columns, lit with a soft red glow that gave it a serious, discreet atmosphere. In front of the doors was a spacious area where cars could stop to drop off guests.
The glass doors led directly into the main lobby. Inside, the space opened up with high ceilings and polished stone floors. The walls mixed dark wood with decorative panels in a Japanese style, and the lighting was soft—bright enough to see clearly without making the place feel too harsh.
In several corners, small indoor gardens featured plants, decorative trees, and shallow ponds where koi carp glided calmly. They weren't large, but they brought a sense of elegance and tranquility. There were also plenty of seating areas—wide armchairs, sofas, and low tables arranged throughout the lobby so guests could wait or chat comfortably.
Near the entrance was the reception desk, a long counter where the staff assisted guests and handled room arrangements. Off to one side was the hotel bar, with its long counter, shelves lined with bottles, and a few tables for anyone who preferred to sit and drink. From the lobby, guests could also reach the elevators that led to the upper floors, where the rooms and suites were located. The hallways were wide and quiet, designed to give guests privacy.
The hotel also included kitchens, storage rooms, private staff corridors, and restricted areas dedicated to security. At a glance, anyone might think it was just another one of Osaka's many luxurious hotels… but in reality, it offered specialized services tailored to a very particular kind of guest.
Among these were the armories, where clients could acquire weapons, ammunition, and equipment, attended by staff who knew exactly what each customer needed. There were also workshops for special suits—elegant clothing at first glance, but made with bullet-resistant materials, ideal for the hotel's usual clientele.
The Continental also had contacts and information services. Some employees or intermediaries could acquire intel, locate people, or help organize certain jobs—always discreetly, usually through private conversations within the hotel.
Most important of all, inside the hotel there was one rule that was never broken. Killing was forbidden. That's why the Continental functioned as neutral ground—a place where even enemies could cross paths without attacking each other… at least as long as they remained within its walls.
Just a few steps from the entrance, Desmon prepared his coin as proof of identity. But contrary to what he expected, the doors opened on their own, and a middle-aged man and a woman around Shizuka's age walked out to greet them.
"It's an honor to have White Death with us."
The man's tone—and the way he greeted Desmon while already knowing his identity—made it obvious.
His name was Shimazu Koji, the manager of the Osaka Continental. He had the look of someone who'd spent a long time in the underworld.
His Japanese features were sharp, his face slightly long with faint lines on his forehead and around his eyes. He wasn't someone who smiled often, but when he did, it was a small, calm smile. His gaze was steady yet composed, as if he were always assessing whoever stood before him.
His hair was black, streaked with gray, cut short and brushed back in a simple, unpretentious style that gave him a neat, serious air.
He wore a dark, elegant suit—fitting for the man who ran such an important hotel. Even so, the way he carried himself wasn't that of a simple administrator; it was clear he was used to combat, someone who wouldn't hesitate to stand his ground against anyone threatening his hotel.
And, of course, someone like Desmon was no exception.
"White Death?" Shizuka whispered to him.
"It's a nickname they gave me. I tried to get it changed, but the rumors had already spread…"
If they were going to give Desmon a nickname, he at least wanted it to sound cool.
After answering Shizuka's question, Desmon refocused on the manager—though the woman beside him was giving him anything but a pleasant look, studying him as if imagining how she would kill him if necessary.
"I have a few things I need to request…"
"Don't worry. We'll make sure you receive the best service possible." The manager stepped aside to welcome them. "The Osaka Continental is at your service."
…
"That was exhausting…" Shizuka murmured as she let herself fall onto the couch.
The seat dipped just slightly—firm yet comfortable—embracing her just enough. She exhaled, sinking a bit deeper as if her body had finally decided it was safe to release all the tension she'd been carrying.
Based on what Desmon had told her, she'd assumed everything would be simple: just wait for him in the lobby while he finished his assignment—an hour or two at most—kill time on her phone, watch people pass by…
She couldn't have been more wrong.
The ceiling was high, spotless, without stains or odd details. Everything followed straight lines: walls, panels, well-kept dark wood… that orderly Japanese style where nothing feels out of place. Nothing broke the symmetry, not even something small.
Still sunken into the couch, she turned her head slightly.
The window covered almost the entire wall. Outside, the buildings of Osaka stretched endlessly. From up here, the city made no sound; you could only observe it in all its quiet splendor.
She blinked a few times, still unable to fully believe it.
"This is… too much…"
Rising from the couch, she began to walk around. Every decoration—even the simplest one—screamed that her teacher's salary couldn't pay for any of it.
Stopping in front of a low table with a tray, she examined the cups, an elegant teapot, and neatly arranged tea and coffee packets. There was even a small box of sweets, everything perfectly placed.
She looked away; comparing that tea set to the mug and instant coffee she usually had was just depressing.
Next, she checked the minibar near the couch—bottles lined up that Shizuka would never normally see unless she visited specialty liquor stores, the kind where the prices alone made you regret walking in.
Continuing on, she reached the bedroom. She barely registered the decorations; the moment she saw the large bed, the perfectly arranged pillows, the folded robe, and the waiting slippers, she simply shook her head.
If she kept looking at every detail and luxury in the room, she felt like she'd get a headache, not to mention how her brain kept comparing everything to her tiny apartment.
-Maybe with three months of salary I could reserve a night… she thought, sitting back down on the couch.
Of course, this hotel didn't operate like any normal one—nor was it open to just anyone.
So how exactly had Shizuka ended up in a suite like this?
It all went back to a few minutes earlier, when Desmon finished his negotiation with the manager. He offered them the hotel's best suite, plus a weekend stay.
And naturally, Desmon accepted without hesitation—his job covered all expenses, including everything he had requested.
"Is it really okay for me to hear this?" she repeated the words she'd said before the negotiation even began.
After all, she wasn't a professional killer, nor was she involved in that world whatsoever. But the manager's answer had surprised her.
"You're White Death's guest. It's no problem."
That was the level of Desmon's reputation—but more than respect, it stemmed from his effectiveness. They shared information to give him the best treatment at any of their hotels, and in return, they handed him the most complicated jobs available.
If Desmon wanted something, it meant he was willing to work for it—so they took full advantage of that.
What the hell had Desmon done to earn that kind of arrangement with the High Table members? That was a long story for another time.
Shizuka tilted her head as she recalled the job he'd assigned.
"I think I feel a bit sorry for them…"
"For them?" Desmon said as he sat down beside her.
"Oh, you're back. Finished with the preparations?" she asked cheerfully. Having Desmon next to her eased her nerves—he also looked completely out of place among so much luxury.
"Everything's ready, so I can relax until then."
Calmly, Desmon placed a few small boxes on the table. The contents were easy to guess from the description: .50 AE. If this job covered all expenses, it was the perfect moment to indulge a little.
"I see… so when are you heading out?" she asked, curious. Without Desmon around, she didn't feel nearly as confident exploring the hotel.
After all, she was his guest.
"By sunset. I want to enjoy a good lunch and go for a swim. This place even has its own sauna and all that," he said brightly.
Like any five-star hotel, this one had everything you could possibly imagine.
"True. The manager did mention we could use the entire hotel. He was really kind."
Shizuka still couldn't connect the polite, serious manager with the idea of a professional killer.
Of course, her view of things had been shifting ever since she met Desmon. Professional assassins didn't really compare to a giant demonic dog chasing you down and trying to tear you apart.
-Before, something like this would've made me overthink everything… but now? I feel weird just accepting it, she reflected to herself.
"That's the good thing about coming here. Even the job didn't turn out to be anything special."
"Now that you mention it… I actually feel bad for them."
Feeling bad for assassins? No one would think that—unless something truly unfair was about to happen to them.
"Seriously?" Desmon tilted his head with an amused look.
"If I put myself in their shoes… they're a criminal group that always gets away with everything and has seasoned killers backing them up. But now they're about to face some guy who looks like an idiot and still won't be able to die."
Just as she said, the young demon hunter's assignment was to wipe out a criminal gang that had been growing for months.
Something like this was unusual, so it was probably because someone higher up was pulling the strings. In simple terms, it was a small skirmish between top brass—something that happened from time to time.
And the reason they chose Desmon over others? Several people had already taken the job… and none of them came back.
"I don't know if I should feel flattered or insulted."
"I didn't lie."
"Fair enough."
Shizuka started laughing as she watched him come to terms with it.
"There are over a hundred of them, and it was mentioned they even brought in experienced people from overseas with solid reputations."
"Well, I've got a reputation too."
"White Death?" Shizuka said, staring straight at him.
"Don't say it…" Desmon covered his face in embarrassment.
It might sound like a badass nickname at first, especially when you looked at him, but in truth, it came from a rather embarrassing situation. Of course, he preferred claiming it was because of his white hair.
While Desmon squirmed in shame, Shizuka pulled from her pocket the sheet the manager had originally given him—one he had immediately dismissed as useless.
"Mkono wa Kifo, Nachtschnitter, Museiki, and Palach… now those nicknames sound intimidating," she said excitedly.
The paper listed the most recognized assassins, though the rest of the group shouldn't be underestimated either.
"Whatever. I doubt they'll manage anything once they catch a bullet to the head."
Desmon sounded bored after recovering his composure—maybe just annoyed that everyone else had cooler nicknames than he did.
"You're right about that. No matter how you look at it, it's pretty unfair."
Shizuka stood up and stretched—it was lunchtime. Next stop: the hotel dining hall.
"They should've been good boys and obeyed the law."
Desmon stood as well, following her toward the door.
"You're the last person who should say that," she scolded him—not that it was anything new.
"Are you my mom or something?"
"Technically, according to your Sobu High registration, I am your legal guardian."
"Tch."
With Desmon cursing under his breath, the two continued their walk through the hotel.