11 PM.
I’m sitting in a cell.
That’s what you get for killing everyone in a shady nightclub without a license.
No badge, no paperwork—just bodies and bullet holes.
I explained the situation. Didn’t help.
They dragged me in anyway.
“Mee-ow…”
“I’m so sorry, Milady.”
Lady Ayano got arrested along with me. She’s flopped over on the cold floor, lamenting her fate.
Nothing I can do but scratch her belly in apology.
Can’t believe I dragged a noble daughter of Akai into this mess…
“Ikaku Akamuro, you’re free to go.”
“Huh?”
“Mew?”
A grumpy fat cop unlocks the door.
Waiting outside are three people: another grumpy fat guy, an unfamiliar white-haired pretty boy, and one very pissed-off Brit.
Fuji, Red Guild’s resident angry walrus, squints at me like I owe him rent.
“Akamuro, what the hell?”
“Yeah, well... stuff happened.”
The white-haired kid throws me a lazy smile, then turns to Ophelia.
Naturally, I do the same.
She’s got her arms folded, expression somewhere between disappointed and about to throw something.
“‘Leave it to me,’ you said. Didn’t expect to see that irritating face of yours again tonight.”
“Same. Can we not do this here?”
Aristocracy pulls strings. Strings get me out.
She asks, “Why’d they lock you up in the first place?”
“Well, you see... wait. Who’s this guy?”
I point at Pretty Boy.
Ophelia glances sideways at him. “No idea.”
“What? You don’t know him?”
“Ah, then allow me to introduce myself.”
The guy clears his throat and straightens up—not that there’s much to straighten.
Wrinkled shirt, thin tie, loose black slacks. Gun at his hip.
Casual, but polished.
“Hakuya Dōdō. Turned twenty-three last month. Eighth-Class Exorcist. Oh, and I’m from the north. I do this job for the paycheck. Never took a Soul Brand—that’s my humblebrag. Anything else...?”
He turns to Fuji like this is some kind of performance.
“Don’t ask me. Say whatever you want,” the walrus says.
“Then I guess that’s it. Pleased to meet you, Ikaku Akamuro.”
“That introduction for me?”
He tilts his head at my question, looking all confused.
“...Nice to meet you. Are you a Mage?”
“Me? Nah. Wish I was.”
Ordinary-looking guy, twenty-three, Eighth-Class?
Bastard’s a prodigy. I already don’t like him.
Then Hakuya holds out his hand to Ophelia.
“Pardon my late introduction, Lady Ophelia. Pleased to meet you.”
Ophelia doesn’t even glance at it. Still got her arms folded like she’s guarding the gates of hell.
The air stiffens.
He should’ve greeted her first.
Use your eyes, genius. She’s obviously old-school nobility. Plus—she’s British.
“Hm? Were you speaking to me just now?”
“...Ahaha, yes, that’s right.”
“I wasn’t really listening. What was your name again?”
“Hakuya Dōdō. I’m—”
“Never mind. I’m retracting the question. I wasn’t in the mood to remember your name. And I don’t need information I didn’t ask for. Your Exorcist rank interests me about as much as the mayor’s birthday. Are we clear?”
Welcome to hell.
“Ahem, uhh… Milady and I will be going now. Thanks for all your hard work, people. Goodnight.”
Better to bail before I get caught between someone I dislike and someone I dislike more.
“Wait, Mister Akamuro. Don’t you have something to explain?”
“With respect, Lady Ophelia, please finish your conversation first.”
“Conversation? Was I having one?”
She turns, all sweet and puzzled, like she didn’t just detonate Pretty Boy's pride.
Hakuya twitches like he’s trying not to punch a mirror.
With those looks, skills, and money, he’s probably never been humbled before.
Lacked imagination. Never met a noble.
“Hakuya. Over here.”
Fuji grabs him by the back and drags him a few feet away. They talk quietly.
Only Fuji returns. Hakuya leans against a wall, scrolling his phone.
“My deepest apologies, Inspector. He’s skilled, but regrettably he’s a young man lacking in manners.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. That level of behavior hardly ruffles my emotional waters.”
Ophelia flicks her golden hair like she’s brushing off lint.
Really? Those waters looked plenty rippled.
She turns to me. “That trash wasted precious time. So why were you in a cell?”
I confess with full honesty.
Can’t hide the big secret now.
Fuji is shocked. “You what? No license?!”
Ophelia says, “I was wondering how you passed the exam without mana. Turns out you just didn’t.”
“Well, you could put it that way.”
“There’s no other way to put it.”
“Still, thank you for getting me out. By the way, could you maybe... help me get a license?”
“Did you just ask me to commit fraud? Are you serious? Disgusting.”
“Joking. Total nonsense. Please erase that from memory.”
“I’m leaving. Don’t cause any more problems.”
She shakes her head and gets into her SUV.
“Ah, Lady Ophelia, please wait!”
The window rolls down. Her blue eyes pierce me.
“What now?”
“Just... thanks. For coming. Really.”
She blinks, caught off guard. “You’re welcome. You owe me.”
“I did save you back at the warehouse, though.”
She frowns. “Then we’re even. Let’s call it square.”
“Thanks again.”
“Good night, Mister Akamuro.”
The SUV disappears into the night.
Perfect timing: Hakuya strolls over, sneering.
“I just wanted to talk to you. Didn’t expect a stuck-up noble to get in the way. Figured I’d humor her since she’s hot, but she’s rotten. You agree, right?”
“Yep.”
We shake on it.
I still don’t like him—he’s stupid—but at least he’s not wrong.
“Don’t pull that kinda shit in front of the Inspector.” Fuji wipes his brow like he dodged a bullet.
“By the way, I only contacted you and Ophelia. How’d this guy show up?”
Hakuya interjects. “I was just with Fuji, so I tagged along. Heard you’re a survivor of the Akai family. I was curious what kind of man you were.”
“Did I meet your expectations?”
“Nope. I wasn’t expecting anything in the first place.”
Ouch.
“You can’t use mana, right? And you’re unlicensed.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“Lip reading.”
That takes training. Or scary talent.
Either way, this guy’s trouble.
“Hey, Hakuya. Keep your mouth shut about Akamuro’s situation. Especially the license thing.”
“Don’t worry. I may be rude and shallow, but I’m not heartless. Anyway, I’ve been thinking—this kitty’s adorable~ Let me pet her.”
He reaches out.
“Mew.”
Lady Ayano swipes at him.
“Ow! What’s her problem?”
“She doesn’t like you. Don’t touch her.”
I give him a push. He stumbles back two steps.
“Whoa, hey. What’s with you two? This vibe sucks.”
Fuji steps between us.
Hakuya smirks, then points at me.
“Ah, I get it now. You act all composed, but you’re a thug. You don’t take hits without throwing some back.”
I cradle Lady Ayano and pet her.
“Mew.”
“I was gonna play nice, but screw it. I don’t like you. You’re rude. You piss me off. Stay away from me—and this cat—or I’ll break your jaw.”
“Whoo. Did you hear that, Fuji? This guy’s got too much guts. Seems like the type who says what he thinks. But maybe you should use your head a little. Do I look like a patient fella? I’m already pissed as it is because of that little English brat…”
Hakuya grins and steps in. Quick jab.
“You shouldn’t be holding a cat when shit’s getting heated.”
I’ve got both arms full of cat—no block, no parry.
He commits to a step-in.
I stomp his knee mid-step, drive my weight down through his motion, turn his momentum against him.
He staggers and falls on his ass.
“Need a hand?”
Hakuya looks confused for a beat, then chuckles.
The look that follows could kill a priest.
“Nah, I don’t need help. Haha. But seriously, what the hell was that?”
“Axe Blade Kick.”
“Axe Blade Kick? Sounds like some discount karate move.”
“Maybe.”
He scoffs. “Whatever. I’m using mana now.”
He kicks off the pavement. Fast. Faster than before.
His output’s spiked—new stats, new threat level.
He lunges, low, goes for my shin.
I lift my leg just before impact. Relax it. Receive the strike, let it flow through me, and kill the force. Like pressing into a curtain.
Force Redirection—no resistance, no impact. His balance breaks.
I step in and crash a shoulder into his core. No arms needed. Full-body slam—weight shifted, hips loaded, spine stiff as rebar.
It’s a release, not a push. Controlled explosion.
He hits the parking lot hard. Rolls once. Stays down.
“Ow… what was that?”
He brushes off the grit and dust, then casually draws his pistol. Points it right at me.
Fuji flinches, instinctively bows. I keep petting Lady Ayano.
“Just kidding.”
He reholsters and checks his phone.
“You’re not bad... for an unlicensed nobody with no mana. What’s the deal? You some noble’s pet project? Or are you just that good?”
“At the very least, I’m better than you.”
He barks a laugh. “God, that’s funny. You got guts. Wrong place for it tonight, though. Let’s go all out next time.”
He flashes a sadistic grin and twirls his phone.
“Looks like my girlfriend’s picking me up. Catch you later.”
He waves like we’re old friends, walks off talking on the phone.
“Geez... making me all nervous. My poor heart can’t take it,” Fuji mutters, clutching his chest.
“Why does the Guild keep guys like that around? He’s trouble. Already caused trouble.”
“He’s Red Guild’s strongest. Sure, he’s an ass, but he’s skilled. Might even be stronger than you, Akamuro.”
“Did you not see my magnificent Kung Fu just now?”
“He was holding back. Guy’s got a 300% output rate. That was nothing.”
Fuji smirks, then blinks like he just remembered something.
“By the way, are you in the Inspector’s good graces?”
“Where’s that coming from?”
“You saw her attitude, right?”
“She looked super pissed. Same as usual.”
“No. She said, ‘Good night.’ Only to you.”
“There are still people who fall for polite British manners? Incredible.”
“I don’t think it was just manners.”
Later, I give Fuji a ride back to Red Guild.
He grills me on the way about what happened at Neon Circle.
“You punched through a Category 2’s chest and dropped fourteen cultists?”
He found my story quite thrilling.
“Damn. Seriously impressive. Akai family Exorcists really are monsters, huh?”
“Something like that.”
I won’t lie—it feels good. Like I’m hammering the family name back into shape.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you. Hell, I’ve never heard of anyone like you. No mana. No license. But you get the job done. You could be a legend.”
“Not interested. By the way, I’m owed three mil for that Category 2. How do I claim from the Church?”
The Del Exorcism Church handles rewards. Demons, cultists—same payout.
“You probably can’t, unfortunately. Not without a license. You’ll get flagged during the paperwork.”
“Ah.”
“…But I’ve got an idea. We’ll say Red Guild took it down. File the claim ourselves, collect the bounty, then pass the money to you. That way your name stays clean.”
“I like it. You sure that works?”
“We get the credit on record. You get the cash. Everyone wins.”
“No handling fee?”
“Nah. Well, you’re a benefactor—and a damn good fighter, haha. Not a bad guy to have owe me one.”
“You too, huh.”
He flashes a loaded smile.
I can’t read all the layers, but it’s not a bad deal.
I’ll play along. For now.
We make a contract. Quiet, unofficial.
* * *
The Next Day
* * *
I pull into a lot near a rundown factory in Akai City.
Check my watch. A little early—perfect. Early means fewer problems.
Yesterday, I gave Fuji the worshippers’ smartphones. With the right tools and contacts, he’ll pull something out of them.
Ophelia’s interrogation should be yielding fruit, too. Shouldn’t be long now before I’ve got leads to follow.
Right now, though? I’ve got nothing on my plate. Figured I’d train.
Then Fuji called. Said he needed backup.
Between the phones and the bounty claim, I owe him. And I need the money.
No reason to say no.
[This is a joint operation with contractors. We can’t let them look down on us like that awful white-haired man from yesterday. I’ll puff up my fur to look larger.]
“You don’t need to go full animal... Oh. They’re here, Milady.”
“Mee-ow~! Mew-mew-ow~!”
Ten minutes later, an SUV rolls in.
Lady Ayano fluffs up like a hellcat in the windshield.
Let’s see how well that intimidation tactic works.