Outside the operating room.
Masao Yamada was speaking quietly but seriously with one of the nurses.
Hoshino wasn't trying to eavesdrop—his Devil-enhanced hearing just picked things up on its own.
It was mostly the same phrase over and over: "Save the mother first."
Masao asked twice if he could accompany his wife inside. The nurse refused both times, politely but firmly. He didn't insist.
Next to Hoshino, Kobeni was fast asleep, slumped against his shoulder, her face buried below her scarf. Her long lashes trembled faintly with each breath.
The nurse entered the operating room.
Masao sat down across from Hoshino on the long wooden bench, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together—like he was praying.
"Sir, Sorry you had to see that," he said after noticing Hoshino's gaze. His voice was quiet, mindful not to wake Kobeni.
"It's fine. You don't need to be so formal—just call me Hoshino."
Being called "sir" by a man in his forties made him uncomfortable.
Masao nodded, then stood and bowed deeply—ninety degrees deep.
"Thank you so much, Hoshino-kun. You saved my wife and my child. Whatever you want, whatever you need, the Yamada family will repay you with everything we have."
Here we go. Adults and their damn formalities.
What followed was a battle straight out of a salaryman drama: "Uncle, please, I can't accept this envelope!"
In the end, Hoshino won through sheer cunning.
"How about this—after the Okura Snow Story ends, Kobeni and I can drop by your place for tea?"
Masao smiled in relief. "That would be perfect."
He knew "have tea" really meant "we'll talk again later," but Hoshino had no intention of going.
They chatted idly for a while.
"Hoshino-kun, you're from Tokyo? Still in high school?"
"Almost in college."
"Which university?"
"Japan National University of Management."
"Impressive! As expected of Hoshino-kun." Masao's eyes widened slightly. "Then you'll be classmates with my son, Ichirou."
"Is that so." Hoshino's tone was vague.
Japan National University of Management—one of the "Seven Universities of Tokyo," located in Bunkyo Ward, the city's academic heart.
Tokyo University, Ochanomizu Women's University—both nearby.
The original Futoshi Hoshino might've been a psychopath, but he wasn't stupid.
Outside of studying, his life had only two other pursuits: killing people, and peeping on his sister-in-law. A strictly regimented lifestyle, just with horrifying priorities.
His first love, Asa Mitaka, had gotten into a women's university also in Bunkyo Ward—not far, but far lower in ranking.
When she turned down his confession, saying she wanted to "focus on studying," he took it as a deliberate insult.
So he made a vow: seventy years of life traded away, all for the sake of making Asa regret it.
But when the time came, he couldn't go through with it. Five years of affection were hard to erase. Then his sister-in-law's kindness softened him—and he fell for her instead.
"What's your major, Hoshino-kun?"
"Public politics."
"Planning to become a civil servant?"
"Isn't that what every college student wants nowadays? Spend your life living off taxpayer money."
"Haha, true. Ichirou's majoring in international relations—he wants to be a diplomat. He's traveling in Kyoto right now, but I'll call him tonight and tell him to come home. I want him to meet you."
Before Hoshino could respond, Masao went on, "Although, honestly, I thought you'd major in Devil Studies."
"There's a Devil Studies major?"
"It's one of the university's most popular programs. Seventy percent of senior officials in the Public Safety Bureau are graduates from that department."
That made Hoshino pause.
Why didn't the original Futoshi study Devil research? He knew he didn't have long to live—didn't he care?
With the regulations that strict, how'd he even find three Devils to form Contracts with?
And how the hell did he track down the Pain Devil in a single day and make that deal to transfer pain?
His inherited memories were like a movie shot from a third-person camera—clear in some parts, but full of missing pieces when he looked closer.
"Hoshino-kun? Are you alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine. Just thinking."
"It's a good field, you know. Maybe one day you'll work in the Cabinet."
Masao quickly shifted the topic. "Did you join any clubs or the student council?"
"Club."
"Which one?"
"Acting." Hoshino's expression was serious.
"Film? Theater?"
"Haven't decided."
"Anything else?"
"Doesn't matter."
If Makima-san had actually let him attend college, his plan had been simple: focus on acting—and social mixers. Preparation for his dream harem.
The rest of his time would've gone to Devil-hunting for strength. Heaven, basically.
But now that he was with Kobeni—and had promised her certain things—he'd dropped the mixers. The acting stayed, though.
Preparation for our future happiness, he told himself.
The two talked on. Time crept by.
A normal childbirth didn't take more than ten hours. But this wasn't normal—it involved a Devil. Twenty hours wouldn't be unthinkable.
Hoshino noticed that even though Masao kept talking, trying to seem cheerful, his hands and legs wouldn't stop shaking.
Since his bow earlier, his fingers had stayed locked together in prayer. Hard to imagine this man was a father, a community leader, someone used to responsibility.
Then again—it made sense.
His wife was only three months pregnant, yet her belly was massive, and she was showing signs of labor. That had never happened in human history.
He must've known something was wrong. But he couldn't accept it. Couldn't change it. So he kept clinging to hope.
As time passed, his sentences broke apart. His expression froze. Conversation became impossible.
Sometimes Hoshino wondered what he'd do in his place.
If he knew Kobeni was doomed and couldn't save her—would he still have the courage to stay by her side until the end? Watch her fade away piece by piece?
Outside, the sky was growing pale. A sliver of sun peeked through the clouds.
Their talk drifted toward Masao's university.
"Tokyo University of Agriculture and Technology?"
That was top ten in Tokyo. Perfect for a man from a farming village like Okura.
"I really respect that," Hoshino said. "Studying agriculture, then coming back to rebuild your hometown. Most people wouldn't have the guts."
He was trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. Maybe remind Masao there were still things worth living for—his work, his land.
Masao froze, then gave a bitter smile.
"Hoshino-kun, Misaki probably gave you the wrong impression. That's on me, though—I wasn't honest."
"Huh?"
"If it were just about the land, I'd never have come back. My parents wanted me to stay in Tokyo, build a stable life, bring them over later…"
He rubbed his temples and laughed at himself.
"Once you've lived in Tokyo—seen that kind of life—you don't come back here willingly. They're worlds apart."
"So why'd you?"
"Misaki was here. That was enough."
"Why not bring her to Tokyo?"
"…She wanted to stay. To take care of the grandmother who raised her."
"Then bring the grandma too!"
"Hoshino-kun, you're a city kid. You don't understand what this land means to the old generation. Once they leave it, they fade fast. Objectively, it's loneliness. Subjectively, it's losing their roots."
He sighed, lowering his head.
"Maybe I'm wrong. I've seen old folks move to the city with their kids and live just fine. But I couldn't do it. Couldn't tell Misaki, 'I want to stay in Tokyo. My parents want that too.'
She's… delicate but decisive.
If she knew and still chose to stay, she'd make sure I never thought about going back—so I wouldn't feel torn between her and my family.
So I never told her. Not before the wedding. Not after."
Masao had spent the whole night talking about the past—never the present.
But time doesn't stop. It only moves forward, on a fixed path.
The sun finally rose, bright and full above the mountains.
Light spilled through the hallway windows. To save electricity, the staff turned off the lamps.
Kobeni stirred awake.
Then came the screams—from the operating room.
Masao's face went white. He bolted.
Hoshino and Kobeni followed close behind.
The door flew open.
Masao froze where he stood.
At the center of the room, a one-meter-tall, half-upright creature—flesh-white, drenched in mucus and blood—writhed.
The Silkworm Devil.
On the table lay Misaki Suzuki, skin yellowed, body wilted, breath and heartbeat gone.
Hoshino and Dr. Tanaka moved at the same time.
The larval Silkworm Devil didn't stand a chance.
Ten breaths later, it stopped moving.
Hoshino's eyes twisted into spirals as he forced a fifty-percent Contract—then killed it.
[Current amplification: 7.5%]
[You have become the Silkworm Devil]
The nurses huddled against the wall, still trembling.
Masao knelt beside the bed, staring blankly.
Hoshino stood there for a moment, wanting to say something—but didn't.
He took Kobeni's hand and turned to leave.
Just before stepping out, he said quietly, "Don't make your son carry both your pain and hers."
Outside, sunlight blazed across a clear blue sky.
They ran toward it.
Through a patch of fir trees.
The snow was melting, the air thick with the scent of spring.
They ran and ran until the forest opened up into a vast, bright field.
"What's with you?" Kobeni asked.
"Eloping. Be serious."
Ahead lay a lake he didn't know the name of. Beyond it—the border of Murayama City.
"Ahhhh—!"
Hoshino shouted, voice echoing across the mountains.
The crushing weight on his back crumbled away. He wasn't exactly happy—but he felt lighter than he ever had.
His steps were easy, almost dancing.
"Idiot," Kobeni laughed softly behind him.
Bam!
Hoshino stumbled.
"Huh?"
He blinked and reached out.
A transparent wall shimmered in front of him, blocking the way.
He moved right. Still there.
Left. Still there.
He threw every attack he had at it.
Nothing. Not even a crack.
His face went pale.
He kept walking, tracing the invisible barrier.
Ten minutes.
Half an hour.
An hour.
Two.
By noon, he stopped, expression empty.
Reality set in.
The entire Okura Village was sealed inside an invisible force.
There was no way out.
This wasn't confinement. It was execution.
Whoever did this—wanted everyone in the village dead.
Hoshino's trance broke.
Then the exhaustion hit. Hunger, weakness, despair—all at once. His head spun, his ears rang like a broken TV.
Still, he forced a laugh.
"...Hey, uh, Kobeni-san… haha… looks like we're screwed."
"Mm."
"I'm serious."
"Mm."
"I mean, we're—mmph—"
Before he could finish, something soft and warm pressed against his lips. Sweet.
It lasted maybe thirty seconds.
Then they pulled apart.
"Y-you!" Hoshino shouted, face bright red, pointing at her. "Why'd you push me away?! You were the one who started it! Playing hard to get, huh?! That was my f-first kiss! You evil woman, you toyed with me!"
"You—you're the one!!!" Kobeni's face was burning, steam practically rising from her scarf. Her shoulders shook as she yelled, "Why'd you stick your tongue out?! And your hands—your hands were all over me!!!"
"…"
"All guys are like that, huh?!" Hoshino turned away, red to the ears. "Boys' airways are tiny, okay?! We can't breathe right—oxygen deprivation makes the tongue twitch! Hands too! It's just science! Total misunderstanding! Boys have it rough, you know!"
"…"
After a long silence, he glanced back. Caught her sneaking a look at him.
"What?"
"Don't believe you."
"I don't either."
They both burst out laughing, collapsing together in the snow.
After a while, Hoshino said, "You know, the book says practice is the only way to test truth."
"Huh?"
"I wanna test again."
"…Mm."
Thirty minutes later—
Kobeni's eyes were glassy, scarf undone, hair messy.
Fifteen attempts. Fifteen tongues. Fifteen wandering hands.
Hoshino stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Yup. Hypothesis confirmed. Totally worth it. For the sake of truth, the world moves one step forward."
"…"
"Kobeni-san."
"Mm?"
"I need to molt. It'll take twenty-four hours."
"Mm."
"You sure you don't wanna go to an inn or something—"
"No. I'll wait here."
"…Okay."
The Silkworm Devil's molting cycle was similar to a real silkworm's—five molts over six months.
The first molt added six days of life. Took one full day.
If he started now, he'd finish just before one p.m. tomorrow—right in time for the Okura Snow Story's opening ceremony at three.
"Wait for me."
"Mm."