A silence so thick it could be cut with a knife hung in the confined space of the tinted minivan. Or, in my case, I could just enjoy it, casually stretching my long legs out in the cramped patch between the seats.
My mana, no longer restrained by any elven limits, filled the Public Safety Bureau's van to the brim. To an ordinary person, it would feel like a sudden spike in atmospheric pressure. But for those who worked with demonic contracts and curses, I was currently radiating like an exploded reactor.
— "Well, why did you freeze?" I lazily propped my chin on my hand, resting my elbow on my knee. Beneath the blindfold, the Six Eyes merrily scanned the terror-twisted faces of my fellow travelers.
— "I am, of course, stunningly handsome, but don't forget to breathe. Otherwise you'll turn blue and stain the government upholstery."
Takemichi, pressed against the partition behind me, let out a sound halfway between a sob and the squeak of a boiling kettle.
Aki Hayakawa wasn't breathing. The experienced devil hunter sat absolutely motionless, but his right eye was twitching at such a frantic speed that it looked like it was about to spark. His whitened fingers gripped the hilt of his katana in a death grip. The Six Eyes told me that Hayakawa's brain was currently sending his body only one command: "Act or die."
With a quiet, ominous click, Aki leaned forward, trying to draw his blade from its scabbard. But the steel didn't even leave the scabbard by an inch.
I didn't make a single movement. I just allowed [Infinity] to expand by a couple of centimeters. The space between us distorted. Aki's hand hit an invisible, absolutely insurmountable wall of dense air. His momentum died instantly, swallowed by a mathematical paradox.
Hayakawa froze, staring with wide eyes as his fingers refused to move any further. His survival instincts, spurred by the devils within him, screamed out loud.
— "I wouldn't recommend it, ponytail," I said softly, with a threatening smile. — "We are in a cramped van, after all. If I accidentally sneeze out a [Red], they'll have to scrape you off the asphalt within a three-kilometer radius. And I just found some normal, clean pants."
— "Y-you..." Aki wheezed. Large drops of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. — "How did you... get in here..."
He was interrupted by a loud, wet smacking sound. Denji, who had been sitting across from me this whole time with a half-chewed piece of sausage in his mouth, finally thawed out. He shifted his gaze from my face to Takemichi, then to my blindfold, then to my white hair. His pupils constricted.
— "H-e-e-y! Listen here!" Denji abruptly jumped up from his seat, hitting the top of his head against the van's low ceiling, but didn't even notice. He poked a dirty, ketchup-stained finger at me. — "White hair... a blindfold... the yellow crybaby with a bag! A hundred percent match! It's you guys! Those jerks from the alley!"
I chuckled happily. — "Oh, the little dog remembered his master? Hello, Denji. How is your horned girlfriend doing? Still eating chips right off the asphalt?"
Hearing this, Denji turned red. But not from embarrassment, rather from pure, unadulterated fury.
— "Because of you..." he growled, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. — "Because we let you get away that time, this guy with the ponytail," he nodded at the paralyzed Aki, "made Power and me scrub the toilets at headquarters for a whole week! A week! My hands reeked of bleach so bad that even the stray cats ran away from me! I'm gonna grind you into dust!"
Denji yanked the starter cord on his chest. With the sound of a roaring motor, chainsaws were supposed to burst from his forehead and arms, but... in the cramped space, he decided to make do with brute force. He threw a punch right at my face, putting all his devilish might into the strike.
The punch was fast. To Takemichi — invisible. To Aki — lightning quick. To me? Just another amusing attraction.
Denji's fist stopped exactly a millimeter from my nose. It froze in the air as if cemented into invisible concrete. Denji growled, throwing his whole weight against it, trying to push through the barrier, but he might as well have been trying to move Mount Fuji with a toothpick.
— "What the... hell?!" the half-devil wheezed, staring at his arm in bewilderment. — "I'm hitting you! Why aren't you getting hit?!"
— "Magic outside of Hogwarts, kid," I sighed condescendingly.
I slowly raised my hand, pinched my thumb and middle finger together, aimed right at the forehead of the growling Denji... and gave him a light, lazy flick. Putting exactly one-tenth of a percent of my Strength points into the strike, I released my finger.
BAM!
A sound rang out like a shot from a large-caliber rifle. Denji was lifted off the floor and hurled back into his seat with such force that the back of the chair crunched pitifully, and the van swerved on the road, nearly flying into the oncoming lane. The driver behind the partition frantically spun the steering wheel, covered in curses and sweat.
Denji slid to the floor, holding his rapidly reddening forehead, and stared at me with an absolutely dumbfounded gaze.
— "Ouch..." was all he could manage, blinking.
— "Well now, we're all relaxed and ready for a constructive dialogue," I clapped my hands, smiling broadly. My aura continued to press mercilessly on Aki. — "And now, gentlemen government dogs, let's talk about why you tried to steal my Prophet and where exactly we are going."
Aki Hayakawa was a professional. He fought devils, lost partners, and looked death in the eyes every day. But right now, his boasted composure was bursting at the seams. Slowly, with an enormous effort, he forced his fingers to uncurl and removed his hand from the hilt of his katana.
— "You're... you're assaulting government employees in the line of duty"— Aki's voice was hoarse, but he tried to keep a straight face.
— "Just for your presence here, the Bureau has the right to open fire to kill."
I yawned theatrically, covering my mouth with my hand. — "The Bureau only has the right to pay for my dinner as compensation for moral damages. You stole my Prophet right before a math test. That, by the way, is an actionable offense! Kidnapping minors!"
Takemichi behind my back nodded frantically, though his face was whiter than chalk.
— "Hey, chief!" I leaned forward and knocked my knuckles against the glass partition separating us from the driver's cab. The glass tinkled pitifully under the pressure of my mana. — "Change of route. Your fanged intern promised my guy the best curry in Tokyo. So drive to the nearest decent diner before I decide to turn this van into a convertible."
The van swerved again. The driver behind the glass, apparently on the verge of a heart attack from my aura, hastily turned on the blinker.
— "Hey!" Denji, rubbing his red forehead, spoke up again. He was looking at me no longer with fury, but with a kind of cautious bewilderment. — "Why the hell are you so hard? And anyway, I'm not an intern! I'm a Devil Hunter!"
— "You're a loud noise generator who forgot to wash his hands before eating," I snapped, not even looking at him. The Six Eyes were completely focused on Hayakawa. I saw every drop of sweat on his temple, every accelerated beat of his heart.
— "Now seriously, ponytail," my voice lost all its cheerful notes. The air in the van instantly turned icy. The mana pressure intensified so much that Aki was pressed into his seat. — "I don't like talking to lackeys. If the government wants to present me with claims for a couple of destroyed Gates — let them send the one holding the leash. Call your boss. I want to talk to Makima."
Hearing that name, Hayakawa flinched. His pupils narrowed. — "How do you..." he trailed off, realizing that asking questions to this monster opposite him was absolutely pointless. Aki swallowed the lump in his throat. — "Miss Makima is not in Japan right now. She is on a business trip in Seoul."
I clicked my tongue in displeasure. — "In Seoul? Looking for that guy with the shadow daggers? How boring. And here I thought we were going to have a polite conversation with tea and threats to national security today."
I leaned back against the seat, and the suffocating pressure of my aura instantly vanished. Aki frantically sucked air into his lungs, as if he had just surfaced from underwater.
— "Fine. Since the head bitch isn't home, give her a message from me when she gets back," I leaned slightly forward, looking at the heavily breathing Hayakawa from beneath the black fabric of my blindfold. My smile was friendly, but it emanated an absolute, primal cold.
— "Tell her: if she wants to put me on a leash, she'll have to find a collar made of titanium. And while she's away — Tokyo is my sandbox. And if the Bureau tries to touch my people again... I'll show you what a real apocalypse looks like."
In the dead silence that hung in the air, the van smoothly braked. Outside, the neon sign of a cheap but cozy curry diner glowed brightly.
— "Oh, we've arrived!" I clapped my hands happily, instantly changing from anger to mercy. — "Let's get out, boys. Aki, get your wallet ready. I'm a growing boy, and I plan to order a double portion of pork."
Denji, who had been picking his nose for half of my dramatic monologue, instantly perked up. — "Double pork? On Aki's dime?! Dibs, me too!"
Hayakawa covered his face with his hands, realizing that this day had officially become the worst of his life.
The diner on the outskirts of Roppongi turned out to be exactly the kind I like: battered cheap plastic tables, sticky menus, faded beer posters on the walls, and an absolutely divine, thick smell of fried pork and curry. We took a corner booth. More precisely, I lounged imposingly on one bench, throwing my arm over the backrest, while Aki, Denji, and Takemichi sat on the opposite side, pressed into the very corner. It looked as if I had taken an entire maximum-security kindergarten hostage.
The waitress, an elderly woman in a stained apron, brought four huge plates of steaming katsu curry.
— "Bon appétit," I happily grabbed the chopsticks, snapping them apart with a loud crack.
Denji didn't need to be asked twice. All his thirst for revenge for a week of washing toilets evaporated the exact second free food was placed in front of him. He buried his face in the plate, making noises like a starving excavator, and began shoveling rice and pork into himself, managing not even to chew.
— "Listen," he smacked with his mouth full, spraying sauce. — "You're a decent guy! I don't care if you're an elf or whatever. If you feed me meat every day, I'll even stop trying to kill you!"
Aki Hayakawa, sitting next to him, looked like a man who was right now mentally drafting his will. He didn't even touch his food. His wallet lay on the table, significantly lighter, and his gaze was empty and glassy.
Suddenly, the long-awaited golden notification from the System blinked before my eyes.
[Hidden Quest Completed: "Saving Private Prophet"]
[Conditions: Extract a Party member from the clutches of government agents without destroying half the city block in the process.]
[Reward received: 500 System Coins.]
[Bonus: Gift coupon for one free bowl of Ramen at any diner in Tokyo (Valid for 24 hours).]
[Penalty status "Irresponsible Host" successfully removed. No more debuffs to charisma!]
I chuckled with satisfaction, tossing a piece of juicy meat into my mouth. The System is, of course, a sarcastic bitch with its coupons, but an extra five hundred coins don't just lie around on the street. Especially now when I need to save up for normal armor from the Shop.
Takemichi was eating slowly. Large, shiny tears rolled down his cheeks, falling right into the thick curry sauce. The schoolboy sniffled, smearing dirt across his face, and flinched every time Denji loudly burped next to him.
I swallowed the rice, set down my chopsticks, and, leaning across the table, slapped the blond firmly on the shoulder. Takemichi started and choked.
— "But seriously, Prophet," I shifted my blindfold slightly so he could see my piercing blue eye. — "I'm proud of you."
Hanagaki froze with a piece of pork in his mouth. Aki Hayakawa also tensed slightly, listening.
— "You were shoved into a van with government killers. This gloomy guy with the ponytail probably threatened you with jail, torture, or taxes," I smirked. — "But you didn't crack. You didn't give them the address of the penthouse. You didn't rat out Marin and Ai. You sat there trembling like a leaf, but kept quiet. Well done. Good boy."
Hearing this, Takemichi couldn't hold it in. He put down his chopsticks, covered his face with his hands, and began to sob loudly, absolutely unashamed of the diner's patrons.
— "I... I just didn't have time to tell them anything!" he sobbed. — "Aki-san had just started asking questions, and then... then you materialized out of nowhere and almost crushed us with your aura!"
I burst out laughing, leaning back against the booth. This guy's sincerity was simply disarming. — "Don't be modest. Silence is golden. Consider it a baptism of fire."
I looked at Aki again. — "Thanks for dinner, Hayakawa. And don't forget my message for the bosses. My Prophet and I should probably get going. We still have unfinished business today."
I snapped my fingers, preparing to use [Blue] to teleport, but then Takemichi suddenly grew pale. No, he grew paler than the moment when Aki had flashed his Bureau badge at him. His gaze fell on the cheap wall clock above the chef's counter.
The hands of the cheap wall clock above the chef's counter read 10:45.
Takemichi let out a hoarse, ragged gasp, as if a commuter train had just slammed into his chest at full speed. His face, previously just pale, took on a distinct greenish-gray hue of a fresh corpse. He slowly shifted his gaze to me, and in his eyes splashed such a chthonic, primal terror that no Dungeon Boss, not even Makima's ominous aura, could ever evoke.
— "I... I didn't hand it in..." Hanagaki whispered with just his lips. — "Didn't hand in what? The address?" Denji didn't understand, still stuffing rice into his mouth.
— "The notebook... The summer math notebook..." Takemichi clutched his head, almost tearing his hair out. — "Class ended fifteen minutes ago! Hina... Hina will kill me! She'll dismember me and feed me to the dogs!"
Aki Hayakawa tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. — "Kid, you just avoided an interrogation by the Public Safety Bureau. What the hell kind of math?"
— "You don't understand!" Takemichi howled, leaping up from the table and almost knocking over his plate. — "Your Bureau is a health resort compared to her! Aki-san, I'm begging you, arrest me! Hide me in solitary confinement!"
I couldn't hold back and laughed out loud. This guy was simply an inexhaustible source of comedy. Surviving two Gates, surviving a kidnapping by the secret services, but throwing a tantrum over school homework and a jealous girlfriend? Priceless.
Takemichi spun around to face me abruptly. He yanked his cracked phone out of his pocket, frantically opened the map, and shoved the screen right under my nose.
— "Satoru! I beg you!" he clasped his hands together in prayer, almost falling to his knees. — "Here are the coordinates! Mizo Middle School! Teleport us there! Please! If I hand in the notebook during recess, I'll be able to excuse myself by saying I was hit by a car or abducted by aliens!"
I wiped an imaginary tear from under my blindfold. — "What a thirst for knowledge. I simply can't refuse such a diligent student."
I stood up, stretching until my shoulders popped, and placed a hand on the blond's shoulder. — "Hayakawa, the bill's on you. Denji, enjoy your meal. And my Prophet and I are off to gnaw on the granite of science. And yes..." I snapped the fingers of my free hand.
The yellow haori and Zenitsu's face rippled and disappeared. — "The illusion is suppressed for exactly ten minutes. I don't want your girlfriend fainting because some random dude with your voice came up to her," I smirked. — "Hold on tight."
The air in the diner compressed. — "Blue."
BANG! Space collapsed. The last thing I heard was the shattering of a mug and an indignant yelp from Denji, who had a napkin blown right into his curry by the wind.
We materialized right in front of the main gates of Mizo Middle School with a deafening sonic boom that rattled the windows on the first floor. Dust and fallen leaves scattered in all directions, forming a perfect circle.
It was the long recess. The schoolyard was full of teenagers, who instantly froze like meerkats, staring at us.
Naturally. Out of the epic whirlwind of dust stepped me — a meter ninety of absolute badassery, wearing a black sweater, a light-absorbing cloak, and a black blindfold, radiating an aura that made ordinary people's legs buckle. And next to me, frantically clutching a crumpled checkered notebook in his hands, stood a heavily breathing Takemichi.
— "Well, lead the way," I commanded imposingly, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
Takemichi, pale as a ghost, moved toward the building on wooden legs. I followed, observing the local crowd with interest through the Six Eyes. The students parted before us like the Red Sea before Moses, pressing themselves against the walls and dropping their textbooks. No one dared make a sound.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught an amusing sight. Standing by the soda machines was a girl with pink hair, wearing a ridiculous pink tracksuit over her school uniform and carrying a huge guitar case on her back. The moment my suffocating aura covered the yard, the girl let out a strangled, inhuman squeak. For a second, it even seemed to me that reality around her glitched — her face literally turned into a low-poly 3D model, and then she, like a slug, slowly slid down the brick wall right onto the asphalt, muttering something about her social anxiety not being designed for survival in battle shonens.
The second-floor hallway was equally entertaining. A tall blond guy with a terrifying glare and a gold student council president's aiguillette on his uniform dropped an entire stack of papers when we walked by. The red-eyed brunette standing next to him quietly squeaked and hid behind his back.
We walked through the crowd like an icebreaker.
Finally, Takemichi braked sharply near the math classroom. There, with her arms crossed over her chest and tapping her foot nervously, stood Hina. The girl looked as if she was ready to start World War III right then and there.
Seeing Hanagaki, her eyes flared with fury. — "Takemichi..." she hissed, taking a step forward. — "Where. Have. You. Been?!"
— "NOTEBOOK!" the blond dropped to his knees with a swing (literally sliding across the linoleum) and, with outstretched arms, offered her the crumpled math notebook as if presenting a gift to the goddess of destruction. — "It's all solved! From the first to the last page! I'm sorry! I was kidnapped by men in black suits, I barely escaped!"
Hina opened her mouth to deliver a tirade about how that was the dumbest excuse in history, but then I stepped out from behind Takemichi. I leaned slightly over the schoolboy, towering over Hina, and gave her my most charming (and terrifying) smile.
— "He's not lying, young lady," my voice vibrated in the dead silence of the hallway. — "The boy really was kidnapped by the Public Safety Bureau. I had to bust him out of an armored van. So go easy on him. He's a good boy, didn't even cry... almost."
Hina turned pale. She looked at me — at the massive man with a blindfold radiating inhuman strength — then at the trembling Takemichi, and slowly, hesitantly took the notebook from his hands. The crowd of onlookers around them wasn't even breathing.
— "I-I see..." was all the girl could squeeze out, blushing deeply either from embarrassment or shock. — "T-thank you... for bringing him back..."
— "You're always welcome," I straightened up, putting my hands behind my head. The comedy had been played out flawlessly. — "Alright, Prophet. My mission is accomplished. I'm heading back to the penthouse, my tailor is probably going crazy over there. And you enjoy your school years. And remember: in ten minutes your face will change back!"
— "Wait, Satoru, what about me..." Takemichi started, looking back in horror at the hundred students staring at him, but it was too late.
I snapped my fingers again. Space distorted, and with a loud pop, I disappeared right in the middle of the school hallway, leaving Hanagaki one on one with Hina, a crowd of shocked teenagers, and the returning illusion of the yellow swordsman.