"Motohama kun, You won't be getting any Stray Devil extermination tasks for a while"
Rias delivered the news with the casual finality that suggested the decision was already carved in stone with no room for negotiation.
My brain did the equivalent of a hard reboot. Did the stray devils had apparently developed survival instincts sharper than my own, choosing hideouts that didn't scream "murder me please" to every Devil with a grudge and a teleportation circle? But I don't think that's the reason for her refusal.
But I have always wondered about Stray Devils.
If they were going to go rogue, they could've picked literally anywhere else. But no, they chose to hide in Devil territory, which made about as much tactical sense as robbing a police station while wearing a name tag.
Why would they even do that? Couldn't they just pack up their existential crisis and move somewhere with better anonymity?
"Why is that?
Rias's expression shifted from her usual composed authority into something serious. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, the pause stretching long enough to qualify as dramatic.
Then she spoke.
"Last night, Issei was ambushed by the stray exorcist in one of our contractor's house" Her voice carried the weight of genuine concern mixed with barely restrained fury "If it wasn't for my timely intervention, Issei might have.."
The information hit like a freight train loaded with implications.
My chest tightened with realization that canon was barreling forward whether I liked it or not. Freed had made his move, which meant the plot was accelerating toward Asia's extraction ritual faster than I'd anticipated. Issei's absence from the clubroom suddenly made perfect sense.
He was probably still recovering from whatever light-blessed beatdown Freed had delivered before Rias showed up to play cavalry. But that raised another question gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. Koneko and Akeno were here. Where the hell was Kiba? I didn't saw him ever since I didn't see Issei.
The concern must have shown on my face because I caught Rias watching me with that calculating look she reserved for chess moves and political maneuvering.
"I thought you said you won't be responsible for me for dangers from other factions?" The words came out sharper than intended, but the contradiction needed addressing.
"Even though our relationship is based on being allies, I wouldn't compromise with your safety, Motohama kun"
The statement should have been reassuring. Should have felt like genuine protection from someone who valued my continued existence. Instead, it triggered every paranoia receptor in my brain like a Christmas light display of distrust.
If I didn't know the plot, didn't understand Rias's genuine protective instincts toward those she considered hers, I would have mistaken this for manipulation. False kindness designed to secure loyalty through manufactured debt. But the truth was more complicated and somehow worse. She actually cared about my wellbeing, which meant I couldn't just write off her actions as political theater.
That made everything so much harder.
"If that's your decision, I won't defy it" I kept my response reasonable "But if the Fallen Angels or that guy make their first move against me, I won't hold back."
"Understood" Rias's agreement came quickly.
Akeno's voice cut through the tension like a knife through warm butter, dripping with amusement and barely concealed sadism "Ara ara~ Someone's eager for violence. You are now enjoying the fight just like I do, don't you?"
The Queen saw a fellow enthusiast for controlled chaos and bloodshed when circumstances demanded. She wasn't wrong, which made her observation twice as annoying and three times as accurate.
Before I could formulate a response that didn't confirm her assessment, Rias stood from the couch.
I followed the cue, rising to my feet as she walked toward Akeno with the kind of purposeful grace that suggested imminent departure. The air beneath them shimmered with building magic, red light coalescing into geometric patterns that hurt to look at directly. Akeno's magic circle bloomed beneath their feet like a flower made of mathematics and power, intricate designs spinning with supernatural precision.
"Akeno and I have some important tasks to take care of." Rias's tone shifted into business mode. "We won't be in town tonight. But if you require help regarding magic books or any other necessities, you can tell Koneko."
My gaze slid sideways to where Koneko sat in perfect stillness.
She was devoted to her cookies with the kind of single-minded focus that most people reserved for religious experiences or particularly engrossing television shows. The white-haired Rook didn't even bother acknowledging Rias's suggestion. Just continued her consumption of cookies as if the rest of us existed in a completely different dimension.
Great. My designated support system was a tiny girl whose primary relationship was with desserts.
"If you still miss me" Akeno's voice took on that dangerous playful quality that made smart people nervous. "You can just use your summoning flyer. I'll come for you anytime"
The way she said come maid Rias raise a brow slightly. Akeno specialized in making innocent statements sound absolutely filthy through sheer force of vocal inflection and timing. It was a talent that probably took years to master and existed solely to make people uncomfortable in entertaining ways.
Rias sighed with the weariness of someone who'd given up on moderating her Queen's behavior approximately five minutes after meeting her.
The teleportation circle flared bright, reality folding around them like origami made of light and space. One moment they occupied the clubroom, the next they were gone. Vanished into whatever important Devil business required both the King and Queen pieces of the Gremory peerage to handle personally.
Leaving me alone with Koneko and her cookies in the suddenly quiet Occult Research Club.
---
I sat back on the couch, pulling one of the magic books Rias had lent me from the stack beside me. The leather cover felt worn under my fingers, pages filled with diagrams and formulas that made my brain hurt if I stared too long.
Magical theory was like trying to understand calculus while someone screamed contradictory instructions in a different language, but I was making progress. Slow but painful, migraine-inducing progress.
So, If Issei got ambushed by Freed, then canon was following the rails with terrifying precision. Which meant Asia and Issei had already met, probably during whatever contractor visit ended in violence and intervention. Unless the plot had decided to take a power nap and rearrange events like a drunk person organizing pieces on chess board. But that seemed unlikely given how everything else was aligning with my knowledge of the source material till now.
This was it. The setup before the big confrontation. A few days later, Asia would be at the church and Raynare would prepare her extraction ritual. Issei would go full protagonist mode and charge in to save the girl.
And I could use that to save Asia sooner. Why put her through all that misery for sake of plot? I ain't a protagonist after all.
Convincing Issei to storm the abandoned church wouldn't be hard. The idiot had two settings: horny and heroic, with occasional overlap when the situation involved attractive women in distress. Asia qualified on all counts. Add Koneko and Kiba to the equation and we'd have actual fighting power instead of just Issei's rage-fueled determination and my collection of gacha abilities. More the merrier when it came to assaulting Fallen Angel strongholds. Safety in numbers and all that tactical wisdom people spouted when they didn't want to die alone.
Because I wasn't stupid enough to just kick down their doors solo and start killing everyone.
Taking on Freed, Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt simultaneously seemed like a great way to achieve a quick and painful death. I had confidence in my abilities, but confidence without backup was just arrogance wearing a different hat. The smart play involved overwhelming force and numerical advantage. Attack with enough bodies that their formation broke and isolated targets became manageable instead of lethal.
But that also required more power.
I needed more gacha tickets before risking my life on something this dangerous. Each ticket represented potential game-changers. Could be Rank 3, could be higher, depending on the rarity gods decided to bestow. The problem was acquisition. Stray Devil extermination had been my primary source, each hunt producing tickets based on the target's strength. But with Rias cutting off my access to hunts, that income stream had dried up faster than my enthusiasm for living in a world where powers of boobs were real.
No hunts meant no tickets. No tickets meant no new abilities. No new abilities meant I was stuck with my current loadout when Freed came calling. And he would come calling. That psychotic exorcist had already targeted Issei. It was only a matter of time before he decided to add me to his collection of Devils and Devil-adjacent people who needed light-based weapons through vital organs.
Encountering strays in Kuoh lately had become like encountering rare Pokémon. They'd developed survival instincts that made traditional hunting grounds obsolete. No more lurking in abandoned buildings or forest clearings like idiots waiting to be purged. These rogues had actually adapted, which suggested either evolutionary pressure or someone coaching them on how to avoid extermination. And the fact that only Rias and Sona received intelligence on stray locations was another nail in the coffin of my observation abilities. I had no way to track them independently. No supernatural senses that screamed "Devil over here" in helpful directions. Just my human limitations and growing frustration.
"Senpai"
Koneko's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
I blinked, awareness snapping back to the present. Looked up from the book I'd been staring at without actually reading. My gaze met her stoic golden eyes that held all the emotional depth of a particularly serious brick wall.
"Is everything fine, Koneko?"
She deadpanned with an expression that suggested she wanted to ask me the same thing.
"If you need help, I can help"
Realization dawned with embarrassing clarity.
She must have been watching me stare at the same page for several minutes, completely lost in mental calculations about gacha tickets and assassination probability. To her perspective, I was stuck on magical theory, struggling with concepts beyond my understanding. Hence the offer of assistance from the Rook who could probably perform most of these spells in her sleep.
Her demeanor suggested genuine concern wrapped in stoic packaging.
Which meant I could have some fun with this.
"This is too complex, Koneko. But, I doubt you would understand it."
"Let me see." She held out her hand, demanding the book.
I handed it over without resistance, watching as she scanned the page with those sharp golden eyes. Her expression remained neutral as she processed the magical formula, then shifted into concentration as she attempted to perform the spell. Magic gathered around her small form, power building according to the written instructions.
Then it failed spectacularly.
Not explosion-level failure, but the kind of fizzle that came from calculation errors or improper energy distribution. The spell collapsed, dissipating into the air like smoke.
I couldn't help myself as I snickered.
I performed the spell without breaking eye contact. The magic coalesced perfectly, flowing according to the formula with the kind of smooth execution that came from actual practice and understanding. Storage magic blossomed in the air between us, a small demonstration of competence designed to be maximally annoying.
"If you knew it, why were you—" She started, frustration bleeding into her usually flat tone.
"Come on." My grin widened. "I don't remember saying I didn't understand it. That was you who assumed, wasn't it?"
Koneko muttered something under her breath.
I caught the words "Rias" and "warned" and "not hit him" in the general vicinity of each other. The implication was clear. Physical violence had been considered and explicitly forbidden by higher authority. Which meant I was safe from tiny fists powered by Rook-piece enhancement.
"But I must say, you're a lot smarter than me." I shifted gears before she could build up enough irritation to ignore Rias's restrictions. "It took me a whole night to achieve just that. And, You did it in a few seconds."
Koneko looked at me like I'd grown a second head.
The expression suggested she thought I was trying to make her feel better about her failure through obvious lies. Which, to be fair, was exactly what most people would do in this situation.
Except I was being completely serious.
"It's true." I pushed forward before she could dismiss it. "You can ask Akeno-san about it. She'll tell you how close I came to burning this book after my 145th attempt to get it right."
The number was accurate, which made it sting. I'd spent hours on that particular spell, failing repeatedly until magical theory finally aligned in my brain. Koneko had performed it nearly perfectly on her first try, only missing success because of minor calculation errors that came from unfamiliarity with the specific formula structure.
That was genuine talent, but I doubt it was a hidden one.
After a pause, Koneko closed the book and handed it back to me with her ever-present stoic expression firmly in place.
"Senpai is weird"
She said, then continued eating her cookies like the conversation had never happened.
I sighed with the resignation of someone who'd expected breakthrough and received maintenance of status quo.
At least "weird" was better than "pervert." Progress came in small increments. I'd take what victories I could get. Being labeled weird suggested I was unpredictable or unusual, which was infinitely preferable to being categorized with Issei's brand of blatant lechery. Not that I was a saint by any measure, but my moral compass at least required some alignment between actions and personal ethics before I'd consider something acceptable.
The magic book opened again in my hands.
I focused on memorizing the calculations for storage spells, committing formulas to memory through sheer repetition and willpower. The practical applications were obvious. Being able to store weapons, supplies, or emergency equipment in pocket dimensions meant I could carry serious firepower without looking like I was preparing for war. Which I absolutely was.
My thoughts drifted toward tomorrow's strategy.
Approaching Issei required careful consideration. He was predictable but not stupid, driven by emotion but capable of surprising tactical awareness when the situation involved protecting someone he cared about. I needed to convince him that attacking the church was both necessary and achievable. Make him think it was his idea if possible. That way he'd have full investment in seeing it through instead of following my lead with reluctance.
The pieces were moving into position whether I liked it or not.
---
After parting ways with Koneko, I headed out for grocery shopping.
Akeno's absence meant no home-cooked meals waiting when I returned. Which meant either use this to learn to cook and feed myself or surviving on convenience store food until she returned from whatever important Devil business required both her and Rias. I chose the former option with all the enthusiasm of someone facing necessary evil. Cooking wasn't my strongest skill, but I could manage basic survival cuisine without burning down the kitchen.
Hopefully.
As I walked through the vegetables section, my mind churned through different strategies for persuading Issei. The direct approach seemed best. Tell him about Asia being held captive by Fallen Angels. Explain that waiting meant her death via Sacred Gear extraction. Appeal to his heroic instincts and protective nature and let his emotional response do most of the work while I provided the tactical framework for succeeding in rescuing Asia from her fate.
After shopping, I dedicated the time before dinner to training.
Earthbending remained my core ability with the foundation everything else built upon. Each session revealed new applications, new ways to manipulate stone and soil with precision and power. Adding Armament Haki into the mix had revolutionized both offense and defense. The black coating enhanced my bending, made the manipulated earth harder and more durable. It was adaptation through practice, my body and mind learning to work with both abilities in harmony instead of treating them as separate tools.
The sun had set by the time I finished my daily session of putting myself through necessary pain.
Night settled over Kuoh with blanket of shadows and streetlights. I walked home through familiar streets, groceries in hand, body pleasantly exhausted from training and dear Cloranthy ring taking care of it like a loyal wife.
I reached my home, pulled out the keys from my pocket and slid into the lock with familiar ease. The door clicked open under my hand with one goal occupying my thoughts as I stepped inside.
Don't mess up the dinner.
I moved through the dark apartment, flipping light switches as I passed. The hallway illuminated, then the kitchen, casting away shadows with mundane electrical power. Everything normal. Everything routine. Just another evening in my supernatural-adjacent existence.
I reached for the living room light switch.
Ffft!
The sound was soft. Almost polite in its quietness. But it wasn't of light switch.
"Arrgggghhh!!!"
Pain exploded in my right arm like someone had driven a railroad spike through muscle and bone. I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat without conscious thought or control. My legs buckled, dropping me to my knees as my left hand grabbed at the wound. Blood seeped through my fingers, hot and wet and terrifying in its immediacy.
The agony burned through my nervous system like wildfire.
Every nerve ending in my arm shrieked protest, pain receptors firing with fury. The wound pulsed with each heartbeat, sending fresh waves of suffering through my body. I could feel the tissue damage, the violation of flesh and muscle by whatever had just shot me.
Then I heard the voice from far ahead.
"That's what you deserve for joining hands with Devils! Hahahaha!!!"
The laughter was unhinged in a way that suggested serious psychological damage or complete disconnection from normal human empathy. Probably both. The voice belonged to someone who found violence hilarious and suffering entertaining. Someone who'd crossed so many moral lines that they couldn't remember where the boundaries used to be.
And I knew who it was.
Freed.
He walked out from the darkness like a horror movie villain making his grand entrance. The psychotic exorcist wore his usual exorcist outfit, all white and grey coat with golden crosses everywhere like he'd raided a church supply store and decided to wear the entire inventory. His face held a sick grin that made my skin crawl, the kind of expression that belonged on people who tortured small animals for fun and turned to humans when that got boring.
In his right hand, he held a light sword. The weapon glowed with holy power, illuminating his features from below in dramatic shadows. It looked like something from a fantasy game, except this blade could actually kill me instead of just depleting a health bar.
In his left hand, a light gun was pointed directly at me.
The same weapon that had just put a hole in my arm. Same weapon that could put a hole in my head if he was smart enough to end it in one shot. But I guess, he needed me alive before putting me through hell.
"I was told to get you alive..." Freed's grin widened as he held me at gunpoint "But that doesn't mean I can't make you suffer before handing you over to them, right?! I can't let it—"
"Hahahahaha"
The sound bubbled up from my chest, growing into full mocking laughter despite the pain screaming through my mind. I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of all my plans of using Issei turning into dust, just like that.
It seems, nothing goes according to the plan....unless you're a captain of Soul Society who always have it all according to the plan.
"What's so funny?!" Freed demanded, confusion bleeding into his psychotic enthusiasm as he pressed the gun at my forehead.
I laughed harder, the sound taking on manic edges that probably mirrored his own insanity. While I failed to accomplish my plan, this was still the best outcome I wished for from very beginning.
The gun stayed pointed at my forehead, steady despite his confusion. Holy light gathered at the barrel, ready to fire if I made any sudden movements or provided the wrong answer. Freed's finger rested on the trigger, mere pounds of pressure away from ending this conversation permanently.
I looked up at him through the pain, meeting his eyes with a grin that felt slightly unhinged even to me. Blood still dripped from my arm, pooling on the floor beneath me. The wound pulsed with each heartbeat of suffering keeping time with my words.
Freed's expression shifted from confusion toward wariness, like he'd just realized he might have miscalculated something fundamental about this encounter. His grip on both weapons tightened, body language shifting into combat readiness.
"You know...how long... I've been waiting for this?"
. . .
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