On the first day, God created himself.
On the second day, God created the world.
On the third day, God created the concepts that govern the world.
On the fourth day, God divided the world into nine realms.
On the fifth day, God filled the world with man.
On the sixth day, God was killed by his own creation.
On the seventh day, God was—
***
They say that during the first 20 seconds a human being experiences fight-or-flight, they enter a state of extreme focus where they can only act on instinct. Using that frame of reference, then Akuma Tiryns must've blown past that mark a while ago, seeing as he could calmly lament on his shitty life while the tip of a barrel loomed over him.
Akuma Tiryns took a cautious step back, immediately understanding the futility after doing so. The barrel stood a mere six feet away.
"So, demon… What now?"
The delinquent holding the gun raised the question for Akuma. His cheap cigarette danced across his lips with each word, the brand so off-brand it had earned him his nickname—Bomi.
It was supposed to be an average Thursday. Akuma Tiryns would wake up inside his lonely apartment, go to school like every other teenager, diligently do all his work, and head back home first thing after dismissal to watch some anime. Or better yet, catch up on that collection of manga that had been collecting dust on his shelf for weeks now. That was the plan. That was always the plan.
But like always, a certain someone couldn't help but meddle in his life.
Bomi and four other delinquents had cornered a pair of middle school girls in the back of an alley, demanding "protection money." That's when Akuma so happened to make his unfortunate entrance.
"You've come all the way here to the Ghost District to play hero but look where that got you," said Bomi, smoke curling from his grin. "A shame really. My guys wouldn't stop going on about ya. 'The demon in human skin'… You know what? I think if things had turned out differently, who knows, I might've asked ya to join my gang."
"And how do you think that would work out for you?" Akuma's smirk betrayed the gun in front of him. "I haven't even joined the clubs at my school, much less a gang. Sorry, but not everyone is a failure in society who's desperate for somewhere to fit in. I've still got a whole life ahead of me."
"'Your whole life ahead of you,' eh?" Bomi's shoulders shook with a gradual raise in amusement. "I take it those are your last words, demon?"
"Hell no. But I'll take it, those are yours?"
Laughter rippled through Bomi and his cronies. Even excluding Bomi, each of them had a unique weapon that could be considered lethal.
Nonetheless, Akuma kept a straight head.
Slowly, so that none of them would notice, Akuma dropped his hand and inched his way over so that he shielded the middle school girls behind him.
"W–What do you think you're doing?! Are you insane?!" asked one of the girls with a frantic tone.
The other, while silent, had the same look in her eye that questioned Akuma's sanity.
"Just shut up and butt out," Akuma instructed the two without any remorse. "It's already enough trouble that I have to spend my free time doing another pointless mission. I don't need you two buzzing in my ears too. Why don't you do me a favor and get behind each other."
"Guh–!"
The girl wanted to scream the word rude so badly her teeth ached, but her quieter friend put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. They didn't have much choice. Putting their faith in the demon was their only way out of this mess.
After positioning himself squarely in front of them, Akuma brought his palms together. The clap that followed hit like a thundercrack. It echoed off the alley walls, vibrating through the concrete.
Bomi's crew killed their laughter instantly, every eye locking onto the teenager standing with his hands pressed together like a prayer.
"That was strike one," said Akuma, his palm still pressed together. "Basically, that means that I could've easily ended this whole thing while you guys were busy laughing."
One of the delinquents was barely able to keep down a snort. "Is this guy for real?!"
"Aw shit, we got ourselves a real clown here, boys!"
"Man, and here I thought the 'demon' would be way more serious than this! What a let down!"
"Alright, demon, I've gotta admit, you're fucking hilarious!" chimed in Bomi. "Hey, why don't you say we just forget all this happened and you just join my gang, eh? I'm in a damn good mood after that one."
Akuma had intended to end all this with his intimidation tactic alone. Clearly, he overestimated their intelligence.
"You're doing it again…"
Thud!
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground shifted the tension in the air. Every hair in that alley stood on edge. The group of thugs looked over and saw one of their guys collapsed on the ground. No warning. No movements. Just the sound of his body as it impacted the concrete.
"This one makes strike two. I hope that's enough to show how serious I am."
Akuma's voice had a certain calmness that wasn't there before. Bomi might've been the only one who noticed. In response to that eerie calmness, Bomi hastily readied his pistol and squeezed down on the trigger with the force of a guillotine.
BANG!!
First came the bright flash that temporarily dazed everyone in proximity. Then, the deafening sound of thunder echoed across the alleyway. Their minds weren't able to perceive the bullet, but there wasn't any question about its path.
The onlookers gasped as seconds became minutes, and minutes became hours. Akuma's head flew back, the rest of his body following its trajectory in a delayed manner.
Bomi's lips curled upright. He had won. He had bested the demon in human skin. The walking calamity of luck.
Thudd! Thudd! Thudd!
Or so he thought…
The same foreboding sound from before rang inside Bomi's eardrums. This time louder. 3x louder. Bomi's eyes widened, the revelation hitting him like a train. Out of the five of them, he was the only one left standing.
"And that's strike three."
Akuma caught himself from a seemingly impossible position. When he pulled his head up, the bullet Bomi had shot at him could be seen between the rows of his teeth. A cocky smirk played on Akuma's lips.
"YOU LITTLE SHIT, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!"
Rather than declaring such a threat at the boy, it'd be more accurate to say Bomi had spit them at him. In a similar fashion, Akuma spat the bullet out like a used-up piece of gum before calmly replying to Bomi's threat.
"I'd like to see you try."
***
It didn't take long after that.
Bomi attempted to speak, but the strength to do so took a while to reach his bloody lips. Blood poured out of the flesh wound above his brow at an alarming rate, dyeing his face in its crimson. His wounds were caused by a fist to be specific, but by how severe it looked you'd think he had been assaulted by the claws and talons of a monster. No. A demon.
"Ne…xt… t…Nex…ti…I'll…ick y...ss…"
Although his words came in fragments, Akuma could more or less surmise the general message.
This was most likely that cliche moment where the bad guy, boiling with rage and frustration, would declare how he'd one day get his revenge. How he planned on rounding up his entire gang to come back and teach Akuma a lesson.
"Is that how it is," a sinister grin split his features. "Then I guess my only option here is to take your ability to get that revenge you want so badly, huh?"
The boy's grip was like iron, and his strength was that of an ox. Despite his slight stature, Akuma Tiryns—a mere 17-year-old boy—was able to lift Bomi by the neck and pin him to the brick wall
"…d…on…"
"Oh, I'm the demon here!" said Akuma in a melodramatic tone. "Y'know, if I'm a demon then what exactly does that make you? I mean you're the one who was pressuring some middle school girls in the back of an alley for… What was it again? 'Protection money'? The hell does that even mean?!"
"...d…mon…."
"Tch. You're starting to sound like a broken record."
Akuma glanced over at the pair of middle school girls next to them. He noticed that they were still trembling, even after Akuma knocked out four out of the five delinquents.
Akuma's gaze snapped back at Bomi, cold and disgusted.
"People like you make me sick to my stomach."
Somehow, Bomi gathered what little reserves of energy he could to retort. "...If… you wanna… blame someone… Blame them… stepping in the Ghost District…" He then flashed a wide smile that—cloaked with the blood on his face—caused the girls beside them to recoil visibly.
"So it's their fault, huh…"
In the next instance, a sound reminiscent of a deflating balloon could be heard leaving Bomi's throat. All the same, Bomi managed a victorious gleam.
"The hell's so funny?"
"...Nothing much," Bomi smirked. "It's just, you keep acting like I'm some kind of monster who needs to be taken care of… You're looking at me with the same eyes as someone looking at a heaping pile of shit and piss… But from the way I'm standing, you're way worse than a pile of shit like me… You can try to play the hero act all you want but I see through you! We all do! You goddamn murderer!"
He'd used up all his physical strength. Despite that, his voice was able to ring out so loudly that it was as if a carillon had been struck. With it, a nightmarish memory returned to Akuma's retinas, looping like an old film.
Fire.
A raging mass of flames that stretched out to infinity. No matter how much he strained his legs, Akuma couldn't escape those flames. Nor could he escape the screams of the damned as they begged for his help. At times, their charred fingers would reach out and cling to his feet, as if the very idea of him running was selfish.
"Ho, ho. What's this? Are you feeling… guilt? You?! Don't tell me ya going soft, demon." Bomi prattled on. "People like you and me don't need that kind of sentimental–"
Akuma's grip tightened around Bomi's neck like a vengeful noose. Out of a mix of reflex and the instinct to survive, Bomi's hands fastened around Akuma's forearms and desperately pushed away. But his efforts were futile.
"I'm sick and tired of you people buzzing in my ear. I just want some peace and quiet for a change. Is that too much to ask for?"
Bomi's pupils expanded and contracted. Not because of Akuma's strength. It was his eyes. They were dark, bottomless and seemingly alive. Bomi felt as if those eyes were defiling him. He felt that if he stared directly at them for too long, then he'd be left bare.
Under the weight of that gaze, Bomi finally reached his limit.
His eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head, saliva foaming at his lips. Then, his arms surrendered to gravity like support ropes that had been cut down.
Following a click of his tongue, Akuma released his hold on the delinquent's collar. His body sank to the ground like a heavy ball, bouncing a bit on impact.
Akuma then turned his attention back to the two middle school girls who, until now, were shaking in the corner of the alley, unable to say anything as Akuma mercilessly choked the life out of Bomi.
"You guys alright?" Akuma asked, faking a bright and welcoming smile as best as he could.
Except, when he turned his gaze, he didn't see them. Only the usual garbage and piles of trash and shit in the corners that had been scattered by wild animals. No surprise there. As soon as Bomi's body had hit the ground, the two wasted no time in darting out of the alley without so much as a word of gratitude to Akuma.
It was a good thing.
Yeah.
It was alright.
It was... alright...
Akuma's sharp crimson glare swept over the unconscious bodies of the five delinquents one last time. It was over. That much was clear. But the question was, what came next? Calling the cops was completely out of the question.
Akuma looked down at his palm and clenched his fist tightly.
With that hand, he could cast a certain power that denied all rules of the world. It was a completely and totally illogical power that, by all standards, shouldn't exist in this ordinary and mundane world like this one.
Divinity.
And yet, that power was utterly useless in a situation like this one.
Well, actually. There was one other option he had available.
He could just kill them.