“Magnificent striking technique, I must say. Chinese martial arts, perhaps?”
“You know your stuff.”
“Oh, hardly, hardly. I simply know such a world exists.”
He smiles, all polite charm.
I set Master’s shotgun on the counter.
“This has clearly seen considerable use, so I’ll handle the repairs on my end. I’ll ensure it can withstand such... unconventional applications. Now, returning to the matter of 5.7×28mm mercury armor-piercing rounds—”
I glance around the wrecked shop. He halts mid-sentence.
“Please, pay it no mind. If I called the police, I wouldn’t be able to hear your order. Playing the unfortunate shopkeeper robbed by thieves can wait a bit longer without issue.”
“Then let’s keep it short.”
This gentleman isn’t even rattled. Maybe this is just how gun shop guys are.
“For rounds with greater stopping power, we’d need to scale up the weapon platform entirely. A larger weapon means sacrificing the P90’s portability.”
“Fine by me.”
“What sort of piece are you looking for?”
“Something versatile. Kills everything.”
“Versatile and non-discriminating. I see.”
He considers for a beat, then pulls a matte-black rifle from the rack.
“Type 20 5.56mm rifle. Thirty-round capacity. Ambidextrous operation for both right and left-handed users.
Proper integration of polymer, aluminum, and stainless steel components achieves both durability and lightweight construction—a true masterpiece.
Extensive modularity is another feature. You can select attachments based on mission requirements. 5.56×45mm mercury rounds can penetrate Armor Layer Level 2 possessed by Category 2 Demons.
More powerful than what you were using.”
I shoulder the rifle, run a quick function check.
Mag in, mag out. Trigger squeeze. Smooth and solid.
“We have optics, grips, flashlights, grenade launchers, and bayonets—accessories across the board.”
“I’ll take the lot.”
“Thank you kindly.”
I set the rifle down and tap my sidearm.
“What do you suggest as a replacement for this?”
My Five-seveN. Issued by the Akai family. Reliable, but it’s outclassed now. Barely scratches Category 1s.
“Then how about this? Something that delivers death equally to any monster—the Desert Eagle.
As you well know, this represents the pinnacle of destructive power in handguns. It’s somewhat extreme as a sidearm choice, but perfect for your build.
Uses .50AE mercury rounds. It kills indiscriminately. This power will determine the success of your hunt.”
I test the grip, dry fire. Recoil’s gonna be a beast.
Still—feels right.
“I’ll take it.”
I line up the Desert Eagle with the rest, confirm ammo specs, accessories, the whole shebang. Done.
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“My apologies—I haven’t introduced myself. Io Wolfgang.”
“Mr. Wolfgang. Appreciate the setup.”
“Not at all. Here’s your receipt. I’ll forward a copy to the Red Guild as well.”
The monocled gentleman hands it over, then busies himself stacking ammo boxes on the counter.
The total’s just shy of five million yen.
They’re covering this, right? Red Guild’s picking up the tab? Pretty generous of them.
Hell, maybe I should’ve bought more.
I chuckle to myself while loading the gear into the trunk, stepping over bodies.
“Please leave that shotgun with me for the time being. If you register here, I’ll send email notifications. We also distribute newsletters.”
“Thoughtful of you. I’ll be back.”
* * *
Next Morning
* * *
I wake to the soft thump of paw pads on my face and a shrill, angelic, “Meow! Meow!”
“Mmf—alright, alright, I get it. Milady, please. I’m up.”
“Mee-ow~!”
“What now? What’s the emergency?”
I squint toward the other side of the bed. The typewriter sits there.
Lady Ayano is frantically slapping keys with her paw pads.
[B-R-E-A-K-F-A-S-T!]
Right. She can’t feed herself.
I drag myself to the fridge, pull out the crab sticks from last night, shred them, and plate them.
[Now Ikaku, say “ahh” for me!]
“Milady, you’re insufferably spoiled.”
[Hey! Just because I’m cute and fluffy doesn’t mean I’m abusing my helplessness to get pampered! I would never stoop to using Ikaku as a personal servant under the pretense of being a soft, squishy baby! Never!]
“There, there, there, there.”
I scratch under her chin. She melts instantly.
Purr purr purr~♪
Simple creature.
“Hm. Notification.”
Phone buzzes. Message from Fuji.
Clack clack clack—ding.
And another—Lady Ayano this time.
[Is it that English girl?! Sneaking behind my back to contact you directly? Hmph! You’re awfully chipper for someone in a crisis!]
She glares, pouting like a puffball.
Even angry, she’s adorable. Cats are unstoppable.
I give her a few extra pats to reset her mood.
* * *
Thirty Minutes Later
* * *
I’m at the Red Guild.
I address the lovely young lady at the reception desk.
“Could you call Fuji for me?”
“Mee-ow!”
“Mr. Ikaku Akamuro, yes? You’re quite early. Please head to the back.”
I make my way to the deepest part of the office. Fuji’s already waiting.
“What’s so urgent?”
“What do you think, Akamuro?”
“Don’t tell me—you found something on the Hidden Flame?”
He grins.
“Right on the money.”
He passes me a paper bag. Documents and a USB drive.
“That was fast. Worked overnight?”
“I told you—I deliver.”
I flip through the contents.
“Birth records. Passports. My Number cards. Licenses. Criminal history. Education. Jobs. Banks. Taxes. Properties. Phones. Rentals. Workplaces. Social connections. Addresses. Socials. Medicals. Transit logs... Everything’s here.”
Lady Ayano and I just stare. He sips his tea, smug as hell.
“I also marked spots where the suicide bomber seemed cozy with certain folks. Back pages have the details. Go poke around. You might dig up something juicy—purely according to this humble analyst’s theory, of course.”
“This is gold, Fuji.”
“Haha, don’t mention it. That reaction’s enough reward. Ah, and one more thing.”
Lady Ayano and I bump paws, celebrating.
Meanwhile, Fuji slides over another paper.
“Bill’s yours. Five million yen. What the hell did you even buy?”
“This is from yesterday… wasn’t that your treat?”
“That’s a good one. Save the jokes, will you?”
Fuji grins as he points at me, all smiles.
Then he realizes I’m not joking.
“Ah—no, I just fronted the tab. Didn’t I make that clear?”
Now that he mentions it... yeah. He never actually said it was on him.
Huh. Guess that’s on me.
“We’re not exactly rolling in spare cash. Lost two more people yesterday. That’s seven in one day. We’ve got families to compensate, and mouths to feed. So... we need hunters bringing in results.”
Fuji pats my chest.
“But hey—kill a worshipper, earn a hundred thousand yen. Demons are a million. Category 2s? Three. Bounties go higher.
You’re an Exorcist, Akamuro. So get out there. Gun down every scumbag working with the Demons, and you’ll make bank fast.”