Genichi stood beside a dimly lit park fountain.
The scene snapped perfectly into place with the memory fragments from Hyoudou Genichi's final moments.
But he didn't have the luxury of taking in anything else.
In front of him was a woman of breathtaking beauty—long black hair, skin so pale it looked luminous even under the night, features delicate enough to seem doll-made.
And yet the pair of pitch-black wings spread behind her—and the icy light in her eyes—shattered that beauty completely, leaving only malice cold enough to freeze marrow.
Amano Yuma… or rather, the fallen angel Raynare wearing Amano Yuma's face, lifted a spear of light and drew her arm back to throw.
A flicker of shock still lingered on her expression, as if she couldn't understand why the Hyoudou Genichi she'd pierced through the stomach had "recovered" in the blink of an eye.
Genichi's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
Time stretched—then compressed.
He saw Raynare's wrist snap forward.
He saw the spear of light leave her hand.
He heard the air tear with a thin, vicious shriek.
Every cell in his body screamed the same message.
*You'll die.*
*Dodge.*
*Move—now!*
His brain fired off the most urgent command it could send.
Dodge. Roll. Even just twist aside—
Anything.
But his body—this body from a slice-of-life world, with no combat training, still reeling from the shock of a soul-level upheaval—couldn't keep up with his thoughts at all.
His muscles were rigid. His reactions lagged, like invisible chains were binding him in place.
All he could do was watch as that dazzling, beautiful weapon of death carved a straight, cruel line through the night, crossing the distance in an instant—aimed directly at his abdomen.
Too fast.
Faster than any human should be able to react to.
"No—!"
His furious, unwilling scream was strangled by physics.
*Thud.*
A dull, clear sound—steel through flesh—rang out in the quiet park.
The pain he expected didn't arrive immediately. Instead, his abdomen erupted in a scorching burn, like a red-hot iron rod had been driven into him.
Genichi lowered his head in disbelief.
Most of the spear remained inside him. Only a short section protruded front and back, already dissolving into tiny motes of light. The wound was charred black around the edges, but the through-and-through damage was undeniable.
Warm liquid soaked his clothes, ran down his body, and dripped onto the dusty ground.
His life spilled out with it—heat and blood draining away at a horrifying speed.
Cold crept in.
An inescapable cold, spreading from the wound into his limbs.
His vision swayed, darkened. A sharp ringing whined in his ears.
His strength vanished. His body sagged and fell backward.
So this was it?
Like this?
Hope—gained for one breath—then crushed immediately beneath reality's heel?
Absurd.
Ridiculous.
I won't accept this—!
He forced his heavy eyelids up and looked toward Raynare in the distance.
His lips moved, but no sound came out. Only blood foam spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Then, through the haze, he heard Raynare mutter—irritated, wary.
"Damn devils… are they here already?"
Devils?
Rias Gremory?
His thoughts were sluggish now, too slow to dig deeper.
Raynare didn't seem fully satisfied. Her black wings twitched, and light gathered in her hand again—she was going to finish him off.
Despair, like the deepest ice, reached to freeze the last thread of his consciousness.
And then—
Just as Raynare prepared to strike again, an intense red light flared in the park without warning.
It wasn't the golden light of her spear.
This was a deep, gorgeous crimson—dense with destruction and overwhelming demonic power.
At the center of a magic circle, vast magic poured down like something tangible.
Raynare's movement locked up. Her head snapped up toward the circle, her face twisting into genuine shock and grim seriousness.
"That magic… it's the Gremory family's!"
With the last of his strength, Genichi dragged his blurred gaze toward the brightest core of the red light.
The magic circle's glow drew in slightly.
A tall, graceful figure descended like a falling petal.
Crimson hair—like the most luxurious silk—floated gently in the breeze of her own power.
She wore Kuoh Academy's girls' uniform, but on her it looked less "school" and more… bewitching.
Her face was flawless. Her emerald eyes carried a hint of curiosity—and something almost amused.
Rias Gremory.
President of Kuoh Academy's Occult Research Club. A pure-blooded high-class devil. Heir-apparent of House Gremory.
She stood with effortless elegance, as if she hadn't arrived in a broken park at night, but had stepped onto the floor of a palace.
Her gaze swept across Raynare, who looked ready to explode into violence, and her brow creased slightly.
Then her eyes fell on Genichi—slumped on the ground, a gaping hole in his abdomen, barely clinging to life.
His unfocused eyes met hers.
The red-haired devil princess's lips curved into a smile—beautiful enough to make any man's heartbeat stumble.
Her voice was light, but carried a force that didn't allow for argument.
"Looks like I arrived just in time."
Her words cut through the darkness closing over his mind.
Genichi tried to speak—tried to beg for help—but the taste of blood flooding his throat swallowed every sound.
Blackness covered his vision completely.
Cold and emptiness finally took him.
…
He didn't know how much time passed.
His consciousness felt like it had sunk into a black, freezing sea—then, slowly, began to rise.
Touch returned first.
A soft, springy mattress beneath him. A thin but warm blanket over him.
The air held a faint, pleasant fragrance—expensive spices mixed with something floral.
Then hearing, still blurry. It was quiet, broken only by the steady rhythm of breathing… more than one person's.
His eyelids twitched. He managed to crack them open.
The first thing he saw was a familiar ceiling.
Where…?
Right. This was his home—Hyoudou Genichi's home. His home in the DxD world.
Memory surged back in a wave—park, Raynare, the fatal spear, the burning hole through his stomach, the red-haired devil descending—
I didn't die?
That realization jolted him awake faster.
He tried to move. The expected agony in his abdomen didn't come.
Carefully, he lifted a hand and touched his stomach.
Smooth. Whole.
No wound at all.
As if everything had been nothing more than a nightmare.
He was alive—and the wound had been healed?
Rias Gremory had saved him?
Just like the original plot, had she reincarnated him into a devil?
Relief rose in his chest—sharp, grateful, breathless.
Then his movement—and even his breathing—froze.
His right arm, lifted slightly, brushed against something soft and springy beside him.
That sensation—
His heart punched hard.
A very bad feeling crawled up his spine.
Slowly—painfully slowly—he turned his head toward the right.
The first thing he saw was a spill of crimson hair.
Following it down, he saw a face close enough to steal his breath—a sleeping face so beautiful it didn't feel real.
Long lashes. A straight nose. Lips with a dangerous, tempting color—
Rias Gremory.
Her eyes were closed. She looked deeply asleep.
But what made Genichi's blood nearly stop was—
As the bedsheet had slipped, he could clearly see her shoulder, her collarbone, and a wide stretch of bare skin below.
Genichi's breathing cut off completely.
Like a rusted machine, he stiffly lowered his gaze toward himself.
The same.
His chest, his arms—his entire body—bare to the air.
And his hand… his hand was resting somewhere it absolutely shouldn't be.
Against bare, warm, flawless skin—smooth as jade.
"—!"
His mind went blank.
He and Rias Gremory were naked in the same bed.
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