The Exorcist Training Academy. Every Exorcist has to pass through here.
Well—except me.
That makes “every” a lie, doesn’t it? Whatever.
The place is deader than dead. Dust in the air. Musty smell. Not much different from a post office clinging to life support.
I take a seat at the front desk, and after a moment, an old guy ambles over.
“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”
“I want an Exorcist license. The kind that lets you carry guns.”
He gives me a long once-over.
“You’re clearly no rookie.”
“Do I look like one?”
“Hell no. I’ve been here twenty years. Seen all kinds. All sorts of stories. People don’t sign up to be Exorcists unless they’ve already strayed from the path—or they’re about to. You? You look like you took the exit a long time ago.”
“I’ll leave that to your imagination.”
“Hah. So why’s a seasoned guy like you want a license?”
“Do I have to chit-chat before you give me the forms?”
“Don’t be so prickly. As you can see, business is slow.”
He leans back in his chair, eyes sweeping across the empty hall.
“It’s because the Akai family got wiped. The news said twelve hundred dead this morning. Over a hundred nobles, just gone. It’s so terrifying it’s funny.
I’m an Exorcist myself, so I get it. Twelve hundred Demon killers—the best of the best—massacred in a single night. What should’ve been an Exorcist Night turned into a Demon Night. And that Blood Moon...
Two nights back, there was something in this city. Something unreal.”
When a swarm of Demons shows up, Exorcists are mobilized en masse. It’s called an “Exorcist Night.” Blood in the gutters. Corpses in the streets. But usually, we win.
Sometimes, though, the casualties are too high. Or the field commander falls.
When that happens, the world calls it a Demon Night.
Coral Eldarian’s downfall doesn’t technically qualify, but the media slapped the label on it anyway.
So now that’s the story people tell.
“After that, no one in Akai City wants to be an Exorcist. The guys signed up for Boot Camp are tripping over themselves to cancel. Don’t even care about the fees—they just want to stay alive.
Meanwhile, a few nutjobs are moving in, thinking they’ve got a shot now that the Akai family’s gone. And right in the middle of that chaos, some sketchy guy walks in, asking for a license.
Suspicious, don’t you think? Or maybe you’re one of those lucky bastards who sees the Akai family’s fall as opportunity.”
He leans in, grinning like he’s waiting for me to bite.
Guy’s got quite the appetite for gossip, but I’m not in the mood.
More than anything, his smug face is pissing me off.
“‘Lucky,’ huh? I’m a nice guy. People know I’m easy to talk to. Things usually go smooth with me. But when someone wastes my time, gets under my skin, or worse—talks down to me—I make sure they regret it.”
His mouth drops open. Swallows hard.
“Aha. R-right. Sorry about that. Guess I got a little carried away with the small talk. You wanted a First-Class Exorcist License, right? Let’s get that paperwork started. I’ve got time. You came at the right hour, haha. Oh, and that cat’s adorable.”
He hands me a stack of forms.
Name, DOB, address, medical history. All basic. Just putting it on paper.
As he scans through it, I can see the moment something sticks in his throat.
His eyes flick up to meet mine.
“…You’re from the Akai family…”
“Is there a problem with the paperwork?”
“…No, nothing at all.”
“Then please continue.”
I gesture toward the desk. He nods stiffly and heads to the back.
After clicking around on his PC and rifling through a fat file, he returns.
“Ahem. Please take a look at this.”
He opens a worn-out chart and walks me through the steps.
“Here’s how you get a First-Class license. Since you want it fast, I recommend our Boot Camp route. First, you’ll go to a Church hospital for Ichor compatibility testing.
Then you attend lectures and practical training. You’ll take written and field exams for your provisional license. Once you’ve got that, you go out on a real mission with an Exorcist unit.
Kill at least one Demon with your own hands. That’s how you earn your full license.”
His thick finger lands at the bottom of the chart.
“Any questions…?”
“Does the provisional test include the mana-infusion of mercury bullets?”
“Uh, yes. That’s part of it.”
“Is it mandatory?”
“Yes, absolutely. There’s a general pass rate, but a few items are critical. You fail those, you fail the whole thing. Mercury bullets are one of them.”
“There are always exceptions. Anyone ever passed without doing it?”
“I don’t think so… Should I check?”
“Please.”
He spends twenty minutes back at the terminal, clicking through records. Then he comes back with a sigh.
“Nope. Not a single case.”
So Akai Boot Camp and Academy tests are the same. I was hoping for a loophole.
“Can’t you make me the first exception?”
“Even if you’re Akai, that’s Church law. It’s out of my hands. Completely. If you’re with the Coral Terminators, why do you even need a license?”
“Personal reasons. Not your concern.”
Even the Akai name can’t bend Church regulations. If there’s no crack to slip through, then this is a dead end.
“Uh, where are you going?”
“I’ve changed my mind. Don’t need the license after all.”
“What?! Hey—wait!”
I walk out, his voice scrambling after me. Head back to the car.
Lady Ayano hops into the passenger seat and immediately starts hammering the typewriter keys.
[Couldn’t you have just slipped him some money?]
“Easy for you to say. Where would we get any? Milady, you’ve never held a wallet, let alone bought anything.”
She shoots me a venomous glare.
“Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
[Credit card! Let’s bribe him with a credit card!]
“And where exactly would we get one?”
Another glare from the long-haired cat.
“That was mean. You’re right. You wouldn’t know. Even if we had one, it’s probably ash by now.”
[Ikaku’s an idiot.]
“Please stop. Milady, don’t press my face with your paw pads. Ah—okay, okay! Stop! I was cranky, my mouth ran off. I’m sorry. I’m reflecting on it.”
I made the effort. That’s what matters.
But in the end, it didn’t change anything.
I can’t get a license. That’s a hard truth.
But I know how to compartmentalize.
A license is just paper. What matters lives in the body.
I’ve got the skills. I’ve got the knowledge. I’m not panicking like Oh no, I can’t carry a gun anymore. Screw that.
I start the engine. Plug in the next stop on the GPS.
[Are you giving up on the license?]
“Honestly? I figured the odds were fifty-fifty from the start.”
[But without it, civilians can’t use guns, right?]
“If I get in trouble, I’ll apologize. Or I’ll wave the Coral Terminators flag and smooth it over with presence.”
[No rules. Isn’t that what they call an outlaw?]
“Outlaws get mad when you scold them. I don’t. Different breed.”
[I see. Then you’re a half-criminal, right?]
We roll down public roads toward a much fancier building than that musty old academy.
Western-style architecture. Meiji-era chic. Exorcists in this country are used to this aesthetic.
The Del Exorcism Church brought Western-style “anti-Demon enlightenment” with them, and it stuck.
In this world’s Japan, mercury bullets carried the sound of civilization. A power not dependent on noble blood.
“Want to come along, Milady? You… look sleepy.”
“Meow meow. Murrrble…”
Ayano swishes her fluffy tail once, slow and deliberate. Her silent way of saying have a safe trip.
Cats sleep a lot. Can’t be helped.
The sign on the building reads: Red Guild Akai City Office. An Exorcist dispatch company.
Ninety-nine percent of civilian Exorcists work through places like this.
The biggest perk? You won’t go hungry.
Red Guild’s one of the top players. Exorcist contracts come here. Demon info flows in. Same for intel on Demon worshippers.
If someone out there knows what happened to the Akai family, they’re probably inside.
I push open the double doors.
The place is buzzing—like walking into a family diner during lunch rush.
As I step in, a few pairs of eyes turn to me.