Chapter 7
Enemy in the open, me in the shadows.
The plan went smoother than Denji expected—but he still couldn't let his guard down.
"Hahaha!"
There it is.
A girl's joyful laughter echoed from deeper in the woods. Denji followed the sound and quickly found them.
In a patch of wildflowers, the girl was happily petting a massive, fleshy worm wearing a flower crown on its head.
The unnatural shape left no doubt: devil.
Watching the bizarrely harmonious scene of human and devil, Denji smiled and raised one hand.
A greeting?
"Slash."
BUZZ—BUZZ—!
The poor flesh worm didn't even finish its little act before Denji sliced it into eight neat segments.
This was the Muscle Devil—it could control any muscle it touched.
Its entire body resembled raw muscle, yet incredibly malleable and plastic.
The earlier scene had been its body burrowing underground, subtly puppeteering the little girl through her muscles to stage the whole "happy playtime" charade.
Once that dominating grip vanished, the exhausted girl collapsed in a faint, finally free.
Even unconscious, the lingering soreness and discomfort from manipulated muscles kept firing pain signals to her brain. Her small body twitched pitifully, tears spilling endlessly from the corners of her eyes, clinging to her long lashes in glistening beads…
"Is this a tomato or a 西紅柿?"
Denji broad-cast the Tomato Dilemma to every aware target in the vicinity.
While the hard control held—
"Go get 'em, Pochita."
The invisible Chainsaw Hellhound devoured the Muscle Devil segment by segment like a string of sausages.
Devour activated.
This was Denji's third devil devoured. Absorbing the Muscle Devil deepened his grasp on the root authority over fear concepts.
The Tomato Devil was weak because it was inherently pathetic. The Zombie Devil wasn't strong because it stemmed from a fabricated, fictional fear. The Muscle Devil was underwhelming because its fear sat shallow, rarely acted directly, and got siphoned off by deeper root fears—especially "Violence," which practically swallowed it whole.
No wonder the Primal Devils in Hell strut around so arrogantly. Disgusting.
But once Denji Devoured them, that fear stream no longer split. From now on, all fear tied to "tomato," "zombie," or "muscle" funneled straight to him.
Unless he spat them out—or fully digested them.
Spitting them out would release them back to Hell for reincarnation. Full digestion granted massive personal boosts, but erased the concept from the world—no long-term passive gains.
Speaking of digestion… a certain alluring silhouette flashed in Denji's mind: an S-curve back, a sudden turn revealing those bright golden-ringed eyes…
"Ugh—calm down, calm down. Nothing's happened yet. No need to go full extreme mode right now."
Refocusing, Denji checked his new ability.
Ultra-Sensitive Muscle: Minor control over touched muscles + massively amplified "sensory experience" for the target. Effect can be bound—only you can trigger it. (Strength scales with technique, method, and power gap; theoretical no upper limit.)
"…If this were an adult video world, I'd be invincible."
Denji muttered the roast while running a hand through his blond hair.
Damn—now he even had the classic yellow-hair protagonist trope. You sure you're not an isekai harem lead?!
(Just kidding, just kidding~)
He gently brushed his hand over the unconscious girl—easing the muscle damage and wiping the tears from her lashes.
Scooping her up in a princess carry, he retraced his steps back to the service area.
An ambulance was already waiting. The bloodied father had gotten a quick head bandage and stood anxiously by the vehicle until Denji returned with his daughter.
"Th-thank you so much! If it weren't for you…"
The man's voice cracked with grateful sobs.
"Just doing what I should~"
Denji flashed a flawless, reassuring smile—calming the father's agitation before helping both into the ambulance.
Off to the side, Makima had been snacking idly while watching the whole scene unfold.
Until she caught Denji's perfect smile—and that faint, maddening scent drifted into her again.
Her small tongue pressed hard against her teeth, grinding twice as if to squeeze more sensation from it. No matter how she tried, her body and soul couldn't extract enough from that single wisp.
The food in her mouth suddenly tasted like cardboard.
"Ptoo."
She spat the half-chewed snack back into the container.
Staring at the korokke (Japanese croquette—oval, breaded, fried) still mostly intact on the bamboo skewer (about 4/5 left), Makima walked thoughtfully over to Denji.
Hearing footsteps, Denji turned.
"Ahhh~"
She raised the korokke to his mouth, making the same coaxing "open wide" sound one uses for babies—or pets.
Denji tilted his head slightly, aiming for the untouched side.
But the moment he moved, Makima rotated the skewer—aligning the already-bitten end right at his lips.
Stare~
Denji's amused red eyes met Makima's seemingly serene golden-ringed ones for a beat.
He let out a soft laugh, then accepted—biting off roughly another 1/5.
The thing wasn't small; a comfortable mouthful was about that size.
Fried food isn't the healthiest, but damn if it isn't tasty. Potato, onion, and meat filling balanced perfectly—crispy outside, savory inside.
Chewing, Denji's eyes locked on the remaining korokke in Makima's hand.
He was starving. One bite wasn't enough—he opened his mouth for another.
Before he could move, the fragrant croquette rose steadily… straight into Makima's mouth.
"Ah—nom~"
One big bite—half of the remaining 1/5 gone. Her cheeks puffed out adorably as she stuffed more in.
It looked like only 1/5 was left exposed.
Denji reached out instinctively—"One bite each! One bite each!"
Flash—
Whoa—she dodged?!
Makima twisted away from his grasping hand, turning her back to him.
A distinct gulping swallow sounded.
When Denji leaned around to look, only a bare bamboo skewer remained in her hand…
Makima's face was the picture of innocent calm.
Denji stared in speechless frustration—throat tight with that "stuck fishbone" feeling.
Who'd guess that angelic, flawless face hid such devilish greed!
So mean—she didn't leave me a single crumb!
Ugh… painful…