Chapter 37
In a daze, sensing the breath of death, Hayakawa Aki finally began to slowly return from that frenzied rage.
Perhaps it was only an instant, or perhaps a long time had already passed.
Before dying, he had once imagined how unbearable and furious he would feel if he failed to take revenge.
But in the end, what he truly felt was only pessimistic relief and regretful apology…
Switching to Denji's perspective.
Only when he personally tried to fine-tune and secretly control the situation did he realize how difficult this really was.
One fraction too much force → fake. One fraction too little → hollow.
The angle and effect had to be precise; the momentum and rhythm could not break.
The actors teetered on the edge of death; the puppeteer was exhausted…
Stepping into the mud was, in a way, an inevitable flaw—because the entire surrounding area had already been divided and wrapped in concentric rings.
Given Aki's headlong, reckless style, he was bound to step into one of those rings sooner or later.
The trash-tier devil responded perfectly—quickly delivering a heart-stopping, near-death scene.
Aki fell. The Curse Devil's nail sword flew far away from his hand.
(Here Denji subtly adjusted the blood, loosening the grip on Aki's hand so the sword could fly out.)
Seeing the situation turn critical, Himeno rushed toward Aki while summoning the Ghost Devil.
No problem here—"senpai" still had reliable professionalism. Jokes were jokes, but when it mattered, she didn't hesitate.
Her instinctive reaction was real and perfectly timed.
But it still wasn't enough. Aki had run too fast earlier, opening too great a distance between them.
Without intervention, most likely Aki would have been bitten in half right in front of Himeno…
Switching back to the "in-play" perspective.
Strange—why does it feel like the "Ghost" can't grab this trash fish?
The Ghost quickly relayed the pain back to its contractor.
The trash devil seemed to have a faint layer of mud-like power on its surface. When the Ghost's hand touched it, a layer of flesh immediately rotted away.
In that split second, there wasn't enough time to increase the contract's price and summon more of the Ghost's power.
But because of that single touch, the trash devil's attention was suddenly drawn—its speed dropped sharply.
(Denji: eye roll, decelerate!)
That brief slowdown was finally enough time for her to reach Aki and yank him completely out of the sinking mud.
When pulled free, the lower half of Aki's suit pants and shoes were already half-rotted away.
The trash devil bit empty air and dove back into the mud pit Aki had just been trapped in.
"You okay, Aki?"
Aki shook his head slightly—no problem.
"Thanks."
"?"
Aki's short, quiet word of thanks was soft and almost inaudible.
Then he immediately formed hand signs, aiming at the trash devil that leaped out of the mud again.
No time to dwell on Aki's earlier thanks—seeing his gesture, Himeno quickly warned:
"Its surface seems to have some kind of poison-like layer. If you can't one-shot it, don't let Fox go in with its head first!"
Aki nodded and changed his hand sign:
"Fox—grab!"
The summoned Fox Devil slapped the trash devil flying, but its sharp claws didn't manage to inflict major damage.
Because of the trash devil's corrosive surface layer, Fox also took some minor damage.
Not enough. Far from enough.
The knocked-back trash devil swam back into the earth. Aki and Himeno could only track its approximate position by the delayed bubbles rising on the surface.
…
"Damn, is the fragment Makima gave really this broken? In my last life this trash devil was solved easily—how is it so troublesome now?"
Denji was genuinely annoyed.
Creating this much pressure—what if Aki and Himeno end up trading their lives for power just to attack?
Annoying. Time to vent on someone first!
After Aki and Himeno summoned the "Fox Devil" and "Ghost Devil," their half-bodies had already arrived here through the contract.
In Denji's special perception, he could clearly see them.
He raised his hand, produced a tomato, activated strong control—
"Go, Pochita—drag them over here!"
The Hellhound bit down, nearly ripping their main bodies straight out of their sealed points at headquarters.
It dragged them over.
Fortunately Denji stopped it in time.
Afterward, Fox Devil recovered from control first:
"Sweet and juicy berries! Who—ahh—who are you, and why have you brought this one here?!
Mm, is that you, Ghost?
Why aren't you moving?"
At this moment, Fox Devil's eyes were still fixed on the Hellhound and hadn't yet noticed Denji and Power below it.
After spotting the Ghost Devil, it asked again.
Once it came to its senses, the Ghost Devil gave a barely perceptible twitch, its twisted form incredibly eerie. Without speaking, a bizarre voice still transmitted:
"…(Pretty-colored fruit)"
Of course the Hellhound wouldn't answer them. It simply stared fixedly, obeying its master's command.
Right now Denji was still micromanaging—temporarily making the trash devil on the battlefield appear to enjoy toying with its prey.
After all, devils love fear. When they believe victory is certain, playing with the enemy is perfectly reasonable~
Leaping out of the ground, then diving back in.
The Curse Devil's nail sword was "accidentally" knocked even farther away.
Occasional splashes of mud—if they only hit clothes, fine. As long as they didn't touch skin.
But if they touched flesh, they could instantly corrode patches of skin and muscle.
The opponent was strong enough, yet deliberately giving openings through playfulness. The contract price was huge—required careful weighing and precise timing for a one-hit kill!
So the situation temporarily reached a tense balance.
Denji turned back to the "Fox Devil" and "Ghost Devil."
"I want you to lower their contract prices—and later cooperate fully with me to act out and finish this play perfectly."
By now Fox Devil had finally noticed Denji and Power's auras.
Forget the instinctively terrifying Blood Fiend—even the incomprehensible scent on Denji carried a deep, soul-level fear.
But so what? Public Safety always treated it with good food and drink when they wanted cooperation. Doing jobs usually came with extra "overtime pay."
Why should it lower its price and help act in some damn play just because of one sentence?
If it can't win, can't it just run?
Fox Devil sneaked a glance at Ghost Devil, secretly gathering power—already prepared to sell out its teammate and escape later…
Ghost Devil's emotions were hard to read, but it likely felt the same unwillingness.
With no other choice, Denji had to resort to the big memory-recovery technique.
Blood-colored threads had already invisibly covered the entire space. Only when Denji clenched his fist did the countless hair-thin strands become visible under the moonlight.
"What—what are you doing?! Ahh—strangling—strangling that place!
Can't we talk properly?
Something this important should be discussed slowly—ahh~ ah!"
"…"
Ghost Devil said nothing—just silently extended countless arms, trying to grab Denji directly.
Take the king first—classic move.
"Is it always this brave?"
Denji muttered in disbelief.
"Who knows? But that's normal—after all, there aren't many devils as smart as this great one! No—wait, this great one is the smartest devil in the world!
Even counting all humans—except Denji—this great one is the smartest!
Mm, Denji can barely tie with this great one. The real smartest is still—ahh…"
Power casually chimed in, getting more and more excited—until Denji couldn't hold back and lightly knocked her head.
Fox Devil trying to stall and escape—Denji could understand. But how was this Ghost Devil still daring to resist?
"Go, Pochita—bite them until they're awake!"
The Hellhound's blood-gold eyes suddenly flared. Its fanged maw opened—impossible to tell whether it was grinning or simply hungry…
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