Chapter 120:
– Rikuo –
Rikuo felt a heavy wave of relief wash over him the instant he realized who had just been thrown unceremoniously into their cramped, filthy cell. For a second he'd panicked—thinking they'd managed to catch Prince Haru off guard—but the brief surge of dread vanished the second he Haru stood up effortlessly.
Rikuo couldn't stop himself from smiling, despite the bruises and cuts lining his aching body. He knew perfectly well his grandfather, Nurarihyon, held some unexplained apprehension toward Haru and Yasaka, Kyoto's ruling fox clan. He'd overheard the older yokai muttering nervously under his breath whenever the Prince's name came up. But personally, Rikuo admired Haru immensely.
Here was a guy who never backed down, never minced words, and never apologized for being himself. In short, he was everything Rikuo wished he could become himself someday. Sometimes he felt like that in his Yokai form, but he could only be a Yokai a quarter of the day due to a curse that made him only one fourth Yokai when that should of otherwise been impossible—since children of Yokai and Humans could only be entirely one or the other.
The bars enclosing them were coated thickly with vicious anti-yokai wards that burned flesh on contact; just brushing a finger against the iron was enough to blister and peel away skin. Rikuo had seen too many desperate escape attempts end with blistered hands and screams of agony echoing off stone walls. Yet Haru just casually sauntered over to those same bars, reached out with bare hands and wrapped his fingers around them without a moment's hesitation.
Rikuo flinched instinctively, remembering the scorching pain when he tried to escape himself. But Haru didn't even blink. In one smooth movement, Haru ripped the entire door free, wrenching it clear off its hinges and tossing it carelessly to the ground.
The other Yokai trapped in the cell all cheered at the same time!
Haru was terrifyingly strong!
But Haru wasn't finished impressing him yet. Haru snapped his fingers. Immediately, blue flames erupted gently around each yokai prisoner's neck. Rikuo gasped sharply at first, instinctively reaching up in fear of the flames, but immediately realized there was no pain at all.
The collars around every prisoner's neck disintegrated. Rikuo inhaled sharply, feeling his Youki accessible again without the suppression collar blocking him from calling out to it.
He felt his body change, muscles firming, height increasing as he confidently slipped into his yokai form. His hair shifted, streaking white and black, his eyes sharpening fiercely. He felt powerful again, ready to fight, ready to tear into the bastards who'd taken Tsurara from him.
"Damn. Wish I had my katana right now," Rikuo muttered, flexing his fingers restlessly. Though honestly, considering who he was about to follow into battle, he doubted he'd even need the weapon. He rushed quickly to catch up with Haru, who had already swaggered boldly out into the corridor beyond the now ruined cell door.
Rikuo noticed immediately they were imprisoned within what used to be an ordinary office building basement—but had been modified as a prison.
A shout rang out down the hall as two Greek guards stormed toward them. The two men wore armor straight out of an old history textbook—bronze chestplates, red cloaks, and shining helmets with crests. Bronze spears were pointed aggressively toward Haru.
"Stop right there, you filthy yokai!" one shouted angrily. He leveled his spear aggressively at Haru's chest. "You will submit and get back in your cage, monster, or face immediate execution!"
Haru tilted his head slightly. A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he folded his arms casually across his chest, completely unimpressed by their threat.
"You guys seriously went full-on cosplay, huh?" Haru drawled lazily. He gestured dismissively at their ancient Spartan get-up. "It's cute. But honestly, that movie '300' did it better. Your costumes are just tacky."
The Greek guards visibly bristled. One spat onto the floor. "That film is an absolute abomination! It's a disgraceful insult to true Spartans—do you idiots really think ancient warriors ran about the battlefield half-naked like barbarians?" he barked, fury burning in his eyes. "We were the greatest soldiers mankind ever produced!"
Then, with an enraged battle cry, the two men lunged forward simultaneously, thrusting their bronze spears directly toward Haru's chest. Rikuo instinctively tensed, ready to leap in to assist—but he knew deep down Haru wouldn't need any help at all.
He was right.
Haru's hands blurred impossibly fast, snatching both bronze spearheads effortlessly from mid-air. The two muscular warriors jerked to a sudden halt, eyes bulging in shock as they struggled desperately, trying and failing miserably to push their spears forward even an inch more. Sweat poured down their faces, veins bulging thickly in their arms and necks as they strained futilely against Haru's casual, unwavering grip.
"H-How?" One man gasped out weakly, horror dawning in his wide eyes. "How is this monster so fucking strong!?"
Haru's eyes turned chillingly cold, his bored amusement vanishing completely. His lips curled back slightly, revealing sharp, dangerous fangs in a ruthless, savage smile. "The only monsters here," Haru said softly, voice low and deadly, "are you foreign fucks who dared invade my land."
Ah—technically this land was Nura territory—or was it at this point? Rikuo sadly pondered on that. If they had to call for reinforcements the second powerful invaders threatened them, did their clan deserve sovereign rule over this town?
Before either warrior could even open his mouth to reply, blue flames erupted violently around their bodies. This time, the flames weren't gentle or forgiving—they roared savagely, consuming the two men instantly in an inferno of magical foxfire.
Their screams tore through the corridor, echoing painfully. Rikuo winced involuntarily, cringing inwardly as he watched the Greeks writhe in agony, their flesh melting grotesquely from bones.
He had never witnessed human death before, and despite knowing these men were evil, it still turned his stomach slightly. But he clenched his jaw tightly, refusing to look away. This was necessary. Justice.
Rikuo stayed close behind Haru as the pair proceeded deeper into the expansive, impossibly large building. Somehow, its interior seemed enhanced, warped by magic to stretch far beyond its modest outer appearance. The corridor they walked down looked as if it continued indefinitely, long and dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights lining the ceiling.
Soldiers periodically appeared from hidden rooms, emerging aggressively from shadowed doorways, spears and swords already drawn. They shouted threats and curses at the two yokai, their eyes wide with hatred and desperation, voices echoing sharply down the endless halls. But Haru was relentless. Without even slowing his pace, he met each wave of resistance with brutal, effortless violence.
Rikuo had never seen such casual, efficient killing. Haru moved fluidly, dispatching men as though they were nothing more than bothersome insects. A soldier charged forward, his bronze sword held high overhead, screaming something angry in Greek. Haru caught him by the throat with one hand, squeezing until the man's eyes bulged grotesquely, tongue lolling from his open mouth. A sickening crack echoed in the hallway as Haru snapped his neck effortlessly. He discarded the limp corpse, letting it crumple to the blood-stained floor.
Another warrior rushed them, this time wielding a heavy spear aimed straight at Haru's chest. The yokai prince seized the weapon mid-thrust, ripped it from the startled soldier's grip, and instantly rammed it back through the man's torso. Blood sprayed out explosively, splattering onto Haru's clothing and face. He ignored it entirely, stepping forward and shoving the impaled body roughly aside, letting it slump lifelessly against the wall.
"Stay behind me," Haru commanded tersely without glancing back at Rikuo. His voice was calm but ice-cold, tightly controlled anger simmering just beneath his words. "There might be more hidden doors and ambushes ahead. I don't want you getting hurt, kid."
Rikuo clenched his fists, slightly annoyed at being treated like some helpless child. Yet he still obeyed, remaining just a step behind Haru. After witnessing the utter brutality with which Haru dispatched their enemies, Rikuo quickly understood he was out of his depth here. He knew he was strong for his age, certainly capable of defending himself against most yokai—but Haru was clearly on another level entirely.
They continued steadily onward, stepping carelessly over broken corpses left in their wake. The floor grew slick with blood beneath Rikuo's feet, but he pushed forward regardless. Finally, after what seemed like countless twists and turns, Haru suddenly halted mid-step. His entire body went rigid, his muscles visibly tensing beneath his bloodied clothing.
"Fuck—" Haru snarled abruptly, tilting his head sharply upwards and inhaling deeply through his nose. His golden eyes narrowed dangerously, lips curling in disgust. "Do you smell that, Rikuo?"
Rikuo inhaled cautiously, sniffing the stale air. At first, he only noticed the stench of fresh blood and burnt flesh from Haru's earlier kills. But as he focused, he caught something else—a revolting scent that made his stomach churn violently. It smelled rancid, putrid—like rotting meat mixed with something chemical and artificial. The foul odor lingered unpleasantly in his nostrils, making his eyes water slightly.
"Gods, that's disgusting," Rikuo muttered, grimacing deeply. He instinctively raised one arm, covering his nose and mouth as he tried to breathe shallower. "What the hell could possibly smell like that?"
Haru didn't reply directly. Instead, he turned abruptly toward one particular closed doorway at the very end of the corridor, eyes locked intensely upon it. The foul smell seemed to emanate specifically from beyond that ominous door. Without hesitation, Haru stormed directly toward it, his movements now filled with grim determination and barely restrained anger.
He didn't even slow down as he reached it, raising one leg and brutally kicking the heavy metal door. It didn't just open—it exploded violently inward, torn cleanly off its reinforced hinges from the sheer force. The thick steel slab crashed loudly onto the ground, echoing thunderously throughout the interior chamber.
Instantly, the smell intensified unbearably. Rikuo gagged audibly, eyes watering as bile rose sharply into his throat. Haru merely growled, stepping forward into the room, golden eyes scanning the interior. Rikuo forced himself to follow, taking shaky steps behind him.
The sight awaiting them inside the room made Rikuo freeze completely, blood turning to ice in his veins. He felt his jaw drop open slightly in shock and disbelief. He'd seen violence before—but nothing remotely approaching the grisly horror spread out before him now.
The room looked like some horrific blend between torture chamber and experimental laboratory. Multiple steel operating tables lined the center, each one occupied by the mangled corpse of a yokai. Their bodies were stripped bare and crudely dissected, flesh sliced apart, exposing bloodied muscle tissue and glistening organs. Needles, tubes, and other strange medical instruments had been crudely shoved into their remains, some attached to strange machines beeping rhythmically in one corner of the room. Dark pools of congealed blood coated the floor around each victim.
Rikuo's gaze fixed upon one particular table. The yokai corpse lying there had been horribly mutilated, its torso split open down the middle and ribcage forcibly pulled apart. Internal organs lay scattered carelessly nearby, removed from their original positions, sliced open and examined. The victim's face remained untouched, however—its mouth open in an expression of agonized terror, eyes wide and glassy in death.
Rikuo felt the hot sting of angry tears filling his eyes. His fists clenched painfully tight at his sides, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood.
"God damn it," Rikuo whispered hoarsely, voice trembling with fury. He forced himself to tear his gaze away, looking toward Haru instead. The yokai prince was utterly silent, unmoving as stone, standing with fists clenched tightly enough that his knuckles turned bone-white. Haru's golden eyes burned with barely suppressed wrath as he stared at the horrific scene before them. The sheer rage radiating from his body was palpable, thickening the very air itself.
"Haru..." Rikuo murmured softly, sensing the dangerous tension building rapidly within the powerful kitsune. "What do we do now?"
Haru turned slowly, his burning eyes meeting Rikuo's directly. His voice emerged low and utterly devoid of mercy.
"We find the sadistic fuck responsible," Haru growled with deadly calm. "And then we rip him apart."
"...Well, then look no further—because I am right here," a nasally, smug voice suddenly rang out from directly behind them.
Rikuo immediately spun around in alarm. Haru, beside him, moved more casually, turning slowly and deliberately with narrowed eyes.
The man standing behind them appeared to be around thirty, with greasy blond hair matted untidily across his forehead and shoulders. His skin was sickly pale beneath harsh fluorescent lights, as though he spent little time outside this grim laboratory. Dark circles framed eyes that burned with manic excitement and a disturbing intensity, making it abundantly clear that sleep was a rarity for him. He was dressed in a long white lab coat splattered liberally with dark, fresh yokai blood. The stains were still wet, dripping slowly from the hem onto the already-filthy tiled floor.
The man spread his arms wide. "Welcome! Welcome, welcome, filthy beasts—to my wonderful little laboratory!" He gestured grandly around the room, waving dramatically toward the dissected yokai bodies lying in their own gore atop metal tables. "I sincerely hope you appreciate the décor. It's taken me weeks to put together my lovely little gallery here." He paused, smirking at them condescendingly. "Though something tells me you uncivilized savages won't properly appreciate the effort and artistry."
It was him—the guy who'd kidnapped him and Tsurara. The demigod son of Apollo!
Rikuo felt rage boil violently inside him, overpowering any caution. "You piece of shit! Where the fuck is Tsurara?" he roared at the bastard, his voice shaking with raw fury.
The doctor merely tilted his head slightly, one thin eyebrow raised as though amused by Rikuo's anger. A greasy strand of blond hair slipped over his eyes, and he brushed it aside with casual, mocking contempt. "Oh, your precious little Yuki-Onna girlfriend?" the demigod asked slowly, emphasizing the word "girlfriend" mockingly. His voice was nasal, dripping with disdain. "Don't worry your filthy yokai head about her, boy. She's perfectly safe...for now." His pale lips twisted upward into a lecherous grin. "I have her secured in a special chamber of mine. A rare and delicate creature like her—a beautiful snow-woman—I've got some very special experiments planned for a lovely rarity like her." He paused deliberately, allowing those sickening words to linger in the air before continuing. "You see, I've yet to dissect a Yuki-Onna. It's truly exciting—so many mysteries beneath that soft, cold, white skin just waiting to be explored. I'll take my sweet time peeling her apart, piece by agonizing piece, until I've satisfied every curiosity." He chuckled coldly.
Rikuo's stomach twisted violently in revulsion! How fucking dare this bastard threaten Tsurara like that—describe her in such sickening, objectifying terms.
"You sadistic bastard!" Rikuo shouted hoarsely.
The doctor laughed openly this time, the sound high-pitched and grating. "Oh please," he scoffed dismissively, his tone arrogant, dripping with condescension. "You and your fellow yokai aren't in any position to threaten me, beast. You see—this is my territory. I control this place, these halls. I am the god here." He smiled cruelly, taking clear delight in his own perceived power. "So for now, you pathetic animals are going right back into your cells where you belong."
He raised his hand sharply, fingers snapping together with a loud, echoing crack. Instantly, the walls around them began to shimmer and ripple, reality itself shifting subtly as dozens upon dozens of shadowy figures manifested, emerging from nowhere to surround them.
Evil spirits.
The natural predators and enemies of yokai. They fed upon yokai energy, draining them dry like starving parasites.
"This is the end for your little daring escape attempt," the demigod sneered disdainfully. "You filthy beasts are nothing but nourishment to these spirits. Once they've fed, perhaps I'll dissect whatever scraps they leave behind—assuming there's anything left of you worthless animals."
"Calm down, Rikuo, we're fine…" Haru said next to him.
Rikuo glanced nervously toward Haru. Fine? These were Yokai's natural enemies and there were dozens of them! They needed to escape and rescue Tsurara before getting reinforcements and—
Haru waved his hand, waves of blue foxfire flying in all directions.
The result was immediate.
The evil spirits all screamed in agony and pain as they were burned alive! How was that possible? Foxfire was made from Youki, wasn't it? These creatures fed on that energy, attacks like Foxfire should be worthless against them!?
"H-How?!" the demigod stammered, genuine fear and confusion replacing his former bravado. His voice trembled unsteadily, eyes locked fearfully upon Haru. "This is impossible. Those were evil spirits! Nothing can destroy them so easily—especially not some filthy beast of a yokai! You can't—this isn't possible!" He shook his head slowly. "Who are you really?" he demanded shakily, voice edged with desperation. "No ordinary yokai has this sort of power! You're different. What the fuck are you?"
"I suppose I should properly introduce myself, shouldn't I?" Haru said calmly, but he was obviously still furious underneath. "You wanted to know who I am? I'm Prince Haru—the son of Yasaka, queen of the Kyoto yokai. Your people invaded the wrong territory…"
– Jane Shepard –
Jane Shepard moved methodically through the dimly lit warehouse, her N7 assault rifle held tightly in her gloved hands, its muzzle still smoking slightly from the last man she'd put down. She could hear her own steady breathing inside the helmet of her combat armor.
"Two more coming from your left flank, Shepard," Cortana's silky voice echoed inside her earpiece, cool and unbothered even as gunfire cracked violently nearby. "Looks like Russian special forces this time—heavily armed and armored. Be careful."
"I always am," Jane murmured, pressing her back to a crate. She glanced briefly toward Alice, who moved with a lethal grace just meters away. The other woman's eyes shone with a dangerous intensity as she aimed her sleek futuristic pistols forward.
Master Chief, towering and intimidatingly silent, held position nearby, his massive armored bulk casting an immense shadow that loomed threateningly across the warehouse floor. The Spartan had barely broken stride since they'd breached the front door, slaughtering enemy combatants with relentless precision. The floor around him was littered with shattered bodies, bullet-riddled and mangled from his sheer brutal efficiency.
Cortana, comfortably nestled within Chief's high-tech armor systems, calmly spoke again into their comms. "Three more hostiles directly ahead. Americans this time—CIA black ops by the looks of it. They've set up an ambush, aiming right at your position. You might want to hit them before they hit you."
"Roger that," Jane replied tersely as she raised her free hand, enveloping her fingers in swirling purple-blue biotic energy.
"You ready, Alice?"
Alice flashed a wicked smile, her expression feral and almost predatory. "Always, Shepard. Let's fuck these bastards up."
The two women surged forward in perfect synchronicity, sprinting toward the CIA operatives who rose from cover, firing wildly in panic as they realized their ambush had failed.
Jane's biotic charge slammed her violently into the first man, sending his body hurtling backward into the wall with bone-crunching force, his spine audibly snapping as he crumpled lifelessly. She spun smoothly to the next target, a female agent whose terrified eyes widened before Jane's armored fist connected brutally with her jaw, shattering bone and sending her sprawling to the blood-slicked concrete floor. Shepard casually pointed her assault rifle downward and pulled the trigger twice, silencing the woman's final desperate whimper with ruthless efficiency.
Nearby, Alice moved with lethal, almost erotic elegance, twisting and sliding between gunshots. An enemy agent screamed, clawing desperately at his face as invisible psychic blades tore through his skull, reducing his brain to pulp within seconds.
"Holy shit," Jane breathed appreciatively, impressed as always by Alice's raw psychic power. Her attention snapped back to the task at hand when more gunfire erupted nearby, drawing her gaze toward Master Chief. He effortlessly shrugged off a hail of bullets, calmly raising his massive rifle and systematically shredding the remaining Russian soldiers who vainly attempted to stop him.
"Chief," Jane barked sharply over the comms, "How many more hostiles are we looking at?"
Before the Spartan could respond, Cortana's voice interjected smoothly. "Exactly five left, Shepard. Greek operatives, barricaded in the control room upstairs, panicking and desperate. Judging by their comm chatter, they're terrified and close to surrender."
Jane shook her head firmly, disgusted. "No surrender. If any of these fuckers live, the entire supernatural world risks exposure."
Alice nodded grimly in agreement, tightening her fingers around her pistol grips, the weapons humming faintly in readiness. "Agreed. Let's finish this shit, Jane."
Jane Shepard squared her shoulders determinedly, advancing confidently toward the staircase leading upward. "You heard her, Chief. No survivors. Let's clear them out, once and for all."
…A couple minutes later.
Jane Shepard exhaled heavily, leaning her armored back against the warehouse's reinforced concrete wall as she glanced around at the aftermath of their brutal assault. The corpses littering the concrete floor around them belonged to operatives from multiple governments—Americans, Russians, Greeks.
She shook her head in disgust, dark red hair falling across her face, slightly damp from sweat and the exertion of the fight. A weary, frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she addressed the room. "What the hell were these foreign pantheons even thinking?" Jane spat out sharply. "Dragging this many human governments—especially heavy hitters like the Americans and Russians? They might as well have broadcasted their fucking existence live on international news. At this point, it's practically guaranteed that humanity knows more about the supernatural than they should. Now, the only question left is just how deep that exposure actually runs."
Alice stepped closer. "Well, nukes aren't flying through the air yet, at least," Alice pointed out with a slight grimace, her voice softer and more thoughtful than usual. "So, hopefully, that means it hasn't gotten that catastrophic yet. But either way, this world is beautiful, Jane. Haru's managed to build a peaceful, happy life here for himself and for all of us." Her eyes narrowed slightly in protective defiance. "I really don't want to see that peaceful life interrupted."
Jane felt a surge of quiet agreement within her own heart at Alice's protective words. "None of us want that," Jane agreed firmly. "Not after everything he's already done for us. Haru deserves better."
Before Jane could continue her train of thought, a vivid burst of shimmering sapphire-blue energy abruptly spilled outward from Master Chief's imposing green Mjolnir armor. The sudden flash was dazzlingly bright, causing Jane to briefly shield her eyes against the intense glow. When she blinked away the spots in her vision, Cortana stood directly in front of them, formed once again into her physical body of smooth, vibrant blue flesh.
"Considering how primitive and simplistic this world's current level of digital technology is," Cortana began smoothly, oblivious to the way Jane's eyes lingered appreciatively on her soft, voluptuous curves, "I should be able to infiltrate their computer networks rather easily. With just a bit of time, I could hack into the government intelligence agencies around the globe—CIA, FSB, MI6, Mossad, all of them. We'll be able to see precisely how deep this exposure to the supernatural actually runs and what we need to do next. Honestly, it shouldn't even be that difficult."
Cortana's calm voice suddenly trailed off uncertainly, a puzzled look creasing her beautiful, expressive face. Her electric-blue eyes flickered uncertainly across the trio staring openly at her. Jane and Alice wore identical expressions of quiet amusement.
Master Chief, however, quickly turned his helmeted head away, clearly attempting to spare Cortana—and perhaps himself—the awkwardness of his gaze. Jane could almost swear she heard a faint embarrassed sigh escape his helmet speakers.
"What's wrong?" Cortana asked lightly. Her fingertips absently brushed her cheek, as if checking for something out of place. "Is there something on my face? That's the right expression isn't it?"
Jane laughed softly, shaking her head and folding her arms casually beneath her own ample, armored chest. She allowed her gaze to linger blatantly downward over Cortana's naked body again, her smirk turning mischievous and teasing.
"No, Cortana, your face is absolutely perfect," Jane replied with playful admiration, not bothering to hide her clear amusement. "The rest of you looks pretty damn flawless too—it's just that you might have overlooked one tiny detail when you digitized back inside Chief's armor."
Alice snorted lightly beside her, her voice similarly teasing. "Jane means your clothes, Cortana. Or rather—the complete lack of them."
Cortana's blue eyes widened abruptly in sudden, dawning realization, her gaze swiftly traveling down along her own exposed figure.
"Oh shit—I completely forgot!" Cortana exclaimed sheepishly, voice filled with embarrassment and disbelief. "The clothing Haru lent me—of course it wouldn't digitize along with my physical body!" Her eyes squeezed shut briefly in mortified embarrassment. "I'm so sorry—this new 'having a physical body' concept is still taking some getting used to…"
Jane chuckled openly. "Honestly, Cortana, there's absolutely no need to apologize. Alice and I certainly don't mind the free show at all. In fact, we're rather enjoying it."
Alice nodded in agreement. "No complaints from me either."
Cortana's cheeks darkened further, the beautiful digital woman's expression caught somewhere between embarrassment, amusement, and a flicker of hesitant pride. She glanced shyly toward Master Chief, who pointedly remained staring in the opposite direction, silently determined to avoid witnessing his companion's nudity further.
"Ah, right…" Cortana cleared her throat softly, crossing her arms awkwardly over her full, generous breasts in a futile attempt to preserve a shred of modesty. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, inadvertently drawing attention to the seductive sway of her round hips. "So… did either of you happen to grab my clothes earlier, by any chance?"
Jane hesitated, exchanging an uncertain look with Alice. Both women simultaneously scratched at their cheeks, their expressions quickly shifting from confident amusement into uncomfortable realization.
"Shit," Alice muttered, eyebrows furrowing as she glanced sheepishly at Jane. "We left her outfit in the middle of the damn street, didn't we?"
Jane chuckled, shaking her head slowly. "We absolutely did. Hell, we were in such a rush to jump straight into combat that it completely slipped our minds."
"Wait, seriously?" Cortana asked incredulously, eyes widening with disbelief and embarrassment. She bit her lower lip anxiously, squirming visibly beneath their amused gazes. "Well, since we've clearly finished our mission here for now… I suppose we can just head back and retrieve them, right? I mean, they're probably still sitting exactly where we left them…"
Jane chuckled even louder this time, the sound low and husky, filled with genuine amusement as she reached up to brush a loose strand of crimson hair behind her ear. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Cortana, but we're currently in Japan, remember?" She flashed the other woman a teasing, knowing smirk. "You dropped an extremely tight, scandalously short, schoolgirl uniform right in the middle of a public street here. There's precisely zero chance that it hasn't already been picked up by some horny pervert who's currently got it clenched tightly in one hand while vigorously jerking himself off with the other."
Alice sputtered next to her!
"Oh my god!" Cortana exclaimed loudly. Her curvaceous body visibly trembled as she covered her face in embarrassment. Her knees wobbled, causing a soft jiggle that Jane definitely appreciated. "This 'having a physical body' thing is fantastic and all, but it's also incredibly weird! Humans are so… bizarre sometimes."
"Welcome to being an attractive woman in the real world, Cortana," Jane teased wickedly, letting her eyes slowly travel up and down Cortana's shapely form once more. "Honestly, leaving clothing lying around in public is practically begging for trouble here—especially if it's something as lewd and eye-catching as that outfit was. Trust me, someone out there is thoroughly enjoying it right this very moment, I guarantee it."
However, before Cortana could respond, Master Chief finally spoke, his deep, gravelly voice emerging from the speakers built into his helmet. Despite his calm tone, the seriousness behind his words was unmistakable. "Then our next objective is clear," Chief stated firmly, his armored fists tightening dangerously at his sides. "We need to track down the pervert responsible, retrieve Cortana's clothing, and then neutralize him permanently. He's seen too much."
Jane turned to stare incredulously at the towering armored man beside them. For a heartbeat, she wasn't sure if he was joking—then she remembered precisely who she was dealing with.
"You realize that's just a bit extreme, right?"
He turned to fully face Shepard, his reflective visor staring blankly into her eyes. "Negative, Commander. Cortana's dignity and modesty have been compromised. Neutralizing the culprit is justified..."
She just shook her head at those words. "We'll—um—think about that one. For now, let's regroup and head back to the Nura Clan so we can wait for Haru to be finished on his end of things."
Cortana visibly perked up at the mention of Haru's name, her blue eyes brightening noticeably. Jane couldn't help but watch with a mix of amusement and intrigue as the former AI shifted restlessly, subtly rubbing her bare thighs together. The sensual movement drew Jane's attention downward, where she noticed something that made her eyebrows shoot up—Cortana's glistening, sapphire-blue pussy lips were slightly parted, a glistening trickle of wetness leaking slowly down the curve of her smooth inner thigh.
Damn, Jane thought to herself with a quiet smirk. She had to admit, she hadn't quite expected Cortana—freshly transitioned from an AI into a physical, living spirit—to be quite this openly horny. Then again, considering the poor woman had zero experience regulating the powerful flood of new sensations and hormones that accompanied possessing a real body, maybe it wasn't too surprising after all.
After a brief, awkward silence, Cortana cleared her throat and spoke, clearly trying to mask her embarrassment. "So, um…are we sure Haru's fine dealing with those enemies all alone? Maybe we should go back him up now that we've finished our end. I mean, wouldn't it be better to play it safe?"
Jane caught Alice's amused glance as the redhead stepped forward slightly, placing one hand casually on her curvy hip and shaking her head reassuringly. "Trust me, Cortana," Alice drawled calmly, her voice filled with absolute confidence. "Haru doesn't need our help for this kind of mission. That guy once shielded me from a bomb blast more powerful than a nuclear warhead."
Cortana sputtered audibly, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief. "He did what?" she demanded incredulously, mouth falling open. She stared between Alice and Jane in shock. "Just how powerful is Haru exactly? How strong can these supernatural beings truly be?"
"Veeeeeeery," Jane said, drawing the word out meaningfully. "The supernatural beings we're dealing with are capable of feats beyond anything you might have seen or imagined before. Haru just happens to be at the top of that food chain."
At those words, even Master Chief visibly tensed, his armored posture shifting nervously as he glanced uncertainly toward Cortana. Clearly, he wasn't accustomed to the idea of anyone or anything more powerful than he was.
Noticing the giant man's unease, Jane reached out to reassuringly pat his armored forearm, offering him a gentle, confident smile. "Relax, big guy—you don't have to look so worried," she reassured him smoothly, her voice warm and teasingly playful. "The good news is that, for people like us—battle-hardened soldiers, genuine heroes who've survived against impossible odds—there's actually a secret way to become much stronger ourselves."
At her suggestive words, Cortana's attention instantly snapped back toward Jane. Jane smirked inwardly, clearly she'd caught the gorgeous spirit-girl's interest again.
"You see," Jane continued, "I've been meaning to experience this little method myself for a while now. I think after everything I've been through, I more than qualify as a real hero… and the reward that comes along with that status."
However, she deliberately avoided mentioning those details out loud just yet. She always enjoyed being a bit of a dramatic bitch sometimes, after all.
– Haru –
I sent Rikuo and his Yuki-Onna girlfriend, Tsurara, home safely after we managed to rescue her.
The room she'd been imprisoned in was a fucking abomination, something ripped straight from the nightmares of a depraved psychopath. Half the chamber had clearly been dedicated to torture—rusty, blood-stained chains hanging from the ceiling, metal tables fitted with heavy restraints, and instruments of pain lying carelessly around. The other half was a disgusting parody of a sex dungeon—dirty mattresses, racks of sinister-looking toys, and disturbing bondage devices scattered haphazardly about.
I could still remember the haunted look in Tsurara's eyes, trembling as Rikuo gently guided her away from that filth.
I waited silently, standing rigidly alert, my fox ears swiveling cautiously as I listened until the sounds of their footsteps faded away completely. Once I was sure they were out safely, I finally allowed my attention to return fully to the pathetic, sniveling demigod currently suspended in the air by his throat, his legs kicking uselessly in midair as he desperately struggled against my iron grip.
The greasy-haired bastard clawed weakly at my arm, his dirty nails scraping harmlessly against my supernatural flesh. His wide eyes bulged grotesquely from his pale, sweaty face as he gasped hoarsely for air, choking and spluttering helplessly.
His voice, when he managed to find it again, was raw and scratchy, yet still annoyingly arrogant in spite of the obvious fear he felt. "Please… Please, mercy!" he wheezed pathetically, face flushed an ugly shade of purple. "I—I beg you… spare my life, kitsune!"
I just squeezed harder in response, feeling his windpipe start to compress slightly beneath my fingertips. "Mercy?" I growled quietly, baring my fangs at him in a vicious, humorless grin. "Like the mercy you showed to all the yokai you butchered and tortured here? Like the mercy you planned to show that innocent Yuki-Onna?"
His frantic pleas quickly shifted into venomous threats when he realized begging was getting him nowhere fast. "You—y-you fucking beast!" he spat bitterly, eyes filled with hate as they glared down at me. "Do you have any fucking idea who you're dealing with? I'm the son of Apollo, the mighty Greek god of the sun! If you kill me, my father will rain holy vengeance down upon your entire race. He'll declare war against you filthy Yokai—and the entire Shinto pantheon as well!"
My grip tightened instinctively around his throat, his body jerking violently as the air was abruptly choked out of him again. "Oh really?" I drawled sarcastically, golden eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your father Apollo, huh? I'm quaking in my boots already. Is that supposed to impress me?"
The demigod tried vainly to nod his head, his face turning steadily bluer beneath my grip. "Y-you don't stand a chance against our forces!" he rasped desperately, sputtering and choking for each word. "We've—we've gathered allies—powerful allies waiting in the wings to join us… Your people are doomed—doomed if you start a war!"
My curiosity briefly sparked. My tails swayed sharply behind me in irritation as I drew his helpless body closer to my own narrowed eyes, glaring menacingly into his frightened face. "Allies, you say? And just who might these mysterious 'allies' of yours be? Start talking, asshole, unless you enjoy being slowly strangled."
Despite his pathetic situation, the bastard managed to somehow twist his pale lips into a smug, defiant sneer. "I'll—I'll never fucking tell you!" he spat viciously, voice strained and weak but still oozing arrogance. "I've been thoroughly trained to resist every form of interrogation imaginable. You'll never get anything out of me, monster!"
I just sighed, honestly too exhausted by his bullshit to even bother attempting real torture on him. I wasn't an expert at that stuff, and frankly, I didn't even care enough to try. "Yeah, you know what? I don't believe you at all," I admitted flatly, rolling my eyes dramatically. "But honestly? I don't actually care enough to waste my time forcing it out of you. Consider yourself lucky."
With a casual twist of my wrist, I snapped his neck cleanly, the sharp crack echoing satisfyingly in the empty chamber. His lifeless body slumped heavily, limbs dangling limply like a broken doll. I tossed the corpse to the filthy ground like garbage, not bothering to spare it another glance.
Good riddance… Cleaning up everything here was going to still be a mess though.
That was when the entire building suddenly erupted around me in a deafening, roaring explosion! Bright, searing flames of fiery orange consumed the room instantly, reducing everything—corpses, torture equipment, and filthy stone walls—to blazing ash in seconds. The inferno roared violently around me, licking hungrily at my body but failing to inflict any damage on either myself or the black suit I wore.
My golden fox ears twitched calmly atop my head as my tails lashed sharply behind me, effortlessly creating a powerful gust of wind that extinguished the flames, scattering the ashes across the barren wasteland surrounding me.
Floating in midair, glaring down at me with pure, undisguised hatred was none other than Apollo himself—the Olympian god of the sun. His gleaming golden armor shone brightly, almost offensively so.
To be honest, I'd figured there'd been about a fifty-fifty chance Apollo even gave enough of a damn about his pathetic offspring to come seeking vengeance personally. Apparently, I'd managed to piss him off just enough.
"You dare murder my son, you filthy yokai beast?" Apollo roared furiously, his voice echoing powerfully throughout the smoldering ruin around us.
"Your precious son," I drawled lazily, openly mocking his rage, "butchered countless yokai and committed disgusting, unspeakable atrocities in the name of his twisted 'experiments.' If anything, I was mercifully swift compared to what he truly deserved."
Apollo snarled openly, his expression contorting with barely contained fury. "You had no right, monster!" he thundered angrily, flames erupting from his fingertips. "It wasn't your place to dispense justice upon my offspring!"
I blinked slowly, deliberately, giving him a long, patronizing look filled with undisguised contempt. "Wasn't my place?" I repeated slowly. "Are you actually that fucking dense? Your worthless bastard slaughtered and tormented innocent beings. Yet you seriously believe it's your exclusive right to discipline him? Tell me something, Apollo, would you even have bothered to lift a finger to punish him at all, or would you have turned a blind eye simply because he's your blood?"
Apollo bristled visibly, lips pulling back in an animalistic snarl of outrage. Clearly logic, reason, and accountability weren't exactly strong points for this prideful prick.
It seemed we were about to have ourselves a good old-fashioned throw-down.
"Witness despair, yokai!" Apollo declared dramatically. "Prepare yourself to suffer beneath the full, unbridled might of the sun itself!"
Above us, the sun suddenly intensified tenfold, turning blindingly bright in a matter of seconds. The air grew hotter almost instantly, shimmering waves of blistering heat rippling around us. Beneath my feet, the scorched ground cracked and splintered under the extreme temperature spike, sending clouds of blackened dust billowing up.
"Fuck," I muttered, raising one hand to shield my eyes instinctively. My fox ears flattened back against my skull, tails bristling sharply behind me in alarm. If I didn't put a stop to this arrogant asshole right now, the sheer magnitude of whatever attack Apollo was charging up would obliterate the entire town around me. Thousands of innocent humans and yokai alike would be incinerated instantly, reduced to nothing more than piles of ash scattered in the wind.
I bared my fangs in anger as I prepared to unleash the full extent of my demonic power. My plan was straightforward—strike him with everything I had in a single overwhelming attack, and either knock him unconscious or at least send him careening out into the ocean, far away from the town itself. I crouched slightly, tails spreading out dramatically behind me, readying my strike.
But just as I was about to move, the violent brightness in the sky abruptly flickered, almost like a failing lightbulb, before snapping back down to completely normal sunlight levels in the blink of an eye. I paused, surprised and confused, blinking away spots as my vision slowly adjusted to the sudden change.
"What—?" Apollo gasped sharply in shock and disbelief above me. His eyes widened dramatically, arms flailing wildly as he suddenly lost control over his flight entirely. His body plummeted helplessly from the sky, crashing hard into the earth with a heavy, bone-jarring thud. Dirt and ash exploded upward in a massive plume around him, coating his once magnificent golden armor in a thick layer of grime.
"My… my domain," Apollo stammered weakly from where he lay sprawled pathetically on the ruined ground, stunned and disoriented from the sudden power drain. He struggled weakly to sit upright, limbs trembling slightly as he gaped helplessly at his own hands. "My divine powers—my connection to the sun—it's been completely sealed away! But how—how is this even possible?"
"You insolent fool," a gentle yet commanding feminine voice rang out clearly across the ruined landscape. "You dare attempt to seize control of MY sun? Over MY own lands? How utterly arrogant can one foreign deity be?"
Amaterasu—Amy-chan—hovered to a stop just beside me, her delicate bare feet lightly brushing the scorched ground below. Her expression was utterly unimpressed, lips curled into an irritated pout as she placed slender hands indignantly on her hips. "Honestly, Haru," she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes skyward in exaggerated exasperation. "Why does crazy stuff always happen whenever I try to take some time off to binge-watch a new anime? Every single damn time!"
I gave the petite goddess a dry, deadpan stare. "You're literally always taking time off, Amy-chan," I pointed out bluntly.
Amy-chan puffed her cheeks out childishly, clearly not appreciating my blunt observation. "That's besides the point!" she huffed petulantly, crossing her delicate arms tightly across her flat chest. Her dark eyes flicked irritably toward Apollo, who was slowly pushing himself unsteadily to his feet once more, face twisted angrily in humiliation and rage.
"Would you mind explaining exactly what's going on here, Haru?" Amy-chan asked me, tilting her head slightly as she regarded Apollo with open disdain. "I mean, aside from a foreign god blatantly violating sacred territory and nearly blowing up my entire town, that is."
I sighed heavily, rubbing tiredly at my forehead as I quickly summarized the recent events. "Apparently, foreign pantheons have grown paranoid lately, mostly due to my mother and the Kyoto yokai's rapid increase in strength. Nevermind that we've been living completely peacefully and not starting trouble—they're convinced we're secretly plotting something. They launched some kind of secret convoluted invasion and have even involved human governments as well."
Amy-chan wrinkled her delicate nose in annoyance after hearing all of that, casting another glare toward Apollo. "Ugh, this is going to be so much work for me, I already know it!"
Apollo finally regained his footing, fists clenched furiously at his sides as he glared hatefully at us both. "You filthy savages! Zeus himself will hear of this insult!" he roared indignantly. "I demand you restore my powers immediately, woman!"
Amy-chan scoffed loudly, utterly unimpressed by his pathetic threats. She turned lazily back to me. "Haru, this noisy idiot is giving me a headache. Besides, the attack he was charging up would've caused far too much hassle and paperwork if he'd actually gone through with it. Can you just kill him for me, please? I'd rather not dirty my own hands."
I blinked in surprise, genuinely taken aback by her blunt request. "Wait—you seriously want me to just kill a foreign god like that? Are you sure that's okay?"
Amy-chan merely shrugged carelessly, clearly unbothered. "Oh please, Haru, don't worry yourself over it. Greek gods are like cockroaches, killing Apollo here is little more than a temporary inconvenience. He'll simply reform in Tartarus eventually…" She smiled sweetly, tilting her head innocently. "So, would you mind?"
"Don't you fucking dare!" Apollo shrieked desperately, his voice cracking as he backed away from me, stumbling over his own feet and collapsing pitifully to the scorched earth. "I—I am a god, damn it! You cannot do this! Zeus himself will destroy you—he'll raze your entire fucking race from existence!"
I gazed down at him coldly, utterly unimpressed by his pathetic threats. With his connection to the sun severed completely, the pompous prick was effectively nothing more than a mortal—helpless prey trembling at my feet.
"You seem to misunderstand your position," I murmured softly, flexing my fingers slowly, deliberately allowing the razor-sharp claws at their tips to extend out fully.
"P-please," he begged hoarsely, crawling backward across the dirt, desperate tears streaming down his filthy cheeks. "Have mercy—spare me. Let me live, and I promise, I'll convince Zeus not to pursue vengeance! I—I can talk to my father, make him see reason! Please, just don't kill me—"
"Mercy?" I laughed bitterly. "You dare plead mercy after your sick fuck of a son tortured, mutilated, and defiled innocent yokai in your name?" My tails lashed angrily behind me, reflecting my fury. "I don't believe a single word out of your lying mouth."
With one smooth, decisive movement, I swiped my extended claws effortlessly across his exposed throat.
At least his corpse would be left intact, although I doubted that fact alone would prevent a possible brewing war…
Apollo's eyes bulged grotesquely wide, a sickening gurgle escaping his lips as hot crimson blood spurted violently from the ragged gash my claws had torn into his flesh. He collapsed limply to the ground, gasping weakly, choking helplessly on his own blood. His trembling hands clawed futilely at his ruined neck.
I watched him dispassionately, feeling no pity or remorse as his body twitched and spasmed erratically beneath me. Within moments, his struggles ceased entirely, the false god's corpse lying motionless and broken at my feet, glassy eyes staring sightlessly skyward, face forever frozen in an expression of abject terror.
Beside me, Amy-chan let out a relieved breath, nodding approvingly. "Very good, Haru," she sighed lightly, dusting her small hands together with satisfaction. "Soon his godly soul will detach from that useless carcass and drift straight down into Tartarus. He'll spend years reforming there and be out of our hair until then, at least."
But even as Amy spoke, something else began stirring within me—something dark, hungry, and utterly insatiable. The demonic seed implanted deep within my very essence surged violently to the surface, roaring awake from slumber with savage, uncontrolled hunger. My senses went haywire abruptly, overwhelmed entirely by an intoxicating, delicious scent filling my nostrils, making my mouth water uncontrollably. It was primal, instinctive, irresistible.
"What… what is that?" I murmured faintly, swaying slightly on my feet, head swimming as I struggled desperately to maintain control over my rapidly slipping composure.
The scent was maddeningly enticing—warm, inviting, utterly mouthwatering. My vision blurred, thoughts growing hazy beneath the powerful waves of demonic instinct flooding my consciousness.
"Haru? What's wrong—wait!" Amy-chan shouted frantically somewhere behind me, panic coloring her normally calm voice. "Stop—Haru, don't!"
But it was too late.
I was already moving instinctively, reaching outward without consciously realizing it, my fingers closing tightly around something warm and pulsing gently within my grasp. My jaws snapped wide open automatically as I shoved the soft, pulsing warmth straight down my throat without hesitation.
The taste exploded upon my tongue, indescribably delicious, richer than anything I'd ever experienced before, overwhelming every one of my senses. I swallowed greedily, hungrily, savoring as the warmth flowed smoothly down my throat, settling deeply within my core, filling me with an intoxicating rush of power unlike anything I'd ever known.
Behind me, Amy's horrified whisper barely registered through the haze of pleasure clouding my mind. "Oh shit, Haru—you just ate Apollo's soul…"
Before I could even process those words fully, a pair of soft, round breasts suddenly pressed firmly against my back, slender arms sliding playfully around my waist from behind. A cheerful, bubbly voice spoke up right behind me.
"Yay! My bestie, Haru-kun, just devoured a god's soul! That means you'll evolve straight into a demon lord now! I've been waiting for this day to happen!"
My mind slowly cleared, blinking away spots dancing before my eyes. Wait—Milim was here now? Did Ranni send for her too?
Before I could question her appearance, Milim easily wrapped a single arm tightly around my waist and lifted my much larger body effortlessly from the scorched earth below. I yelped in surprise, tails flailing wildly in alarm, though Milim simply giggled, completely unbothered by my struggles.
"Milim—wait, hold on a minute!" I stammered, startled by the sudden sensation of flight as we rapidly ascended into the sky. "Where the hell are you taking me?"
Milim laughed brightly as we flew swiftly toward Kyoto. "You're silly, Haru-kun! Where else?" She grinned mischievously, leaning closer and brushing her lips teasingly against my sensitive fox ear. "We need to hurry straight back to my world so you can safely evolve into a demon lord properly!"
Oh…
"Fuck," I muttered tiredly…
XXX
Haru's gonna finally be a full demon lord! And I'm thinking after saving their own galaxies Shepard and Master Chief would both obviously qualify to get Hero seeds.