The Earth curved beneath him like a living mural — clouds streaked in wide brushstrokes, oceans glimmering with reflected light, and the eastern edge of the world just beginning to glow.
Kang Woo hovered alone, wings spread wide in stillness, floating just below the upper edges of the stratosphere. The sky above him was ink-black. The space around him, silent. But ahead — the sun began to rise. he stared straight at the approaching light, letting it break over him, golden and divine. His arms lifted slowly, spreading wide — embracing it.
The solar flare crept along the curvature of Earth, igniting atmosphere and clouds with streaks of orange, red, and soft blue. The light struck his body with full force, casting a long silhouette that arced downward like a sword poised over the planet.
Mikhail's voice emerged — steady, floating from the burning eye on the back of Kang Woo's palm."Master… the sun is beautiful when seen from here.. It's strange to think that the Demon King would admire something like this."
Kang Woo didn't smile. But his tone wasn't harsh. "I like the blue sky," he said quietly. "The way the clouds drift. The way the air moves. Earth has what the 9th Hell never did."
He let his wings shift slightly — feathers of voidstuff rippling against the morning wind.
"…The 9th Hell was nothing but ash and screaming stone. The sky there never changed."
Just then, a faint chime echoed in Kang Woo's mind.
His status window flared to life before him, golden letters hanging midair:
─── STATUS UPDATE ───
+30 Affection with Makima (60/100):
Makima finds you increasingly fascinating — a chaotic mix of intrigue and annoyance.
She's starting to form a twisted fondness for your antics.
At this point, her obsession is strong enough that she's resorting to weather-tracking just to pinpoint your re-entry path.
+30 Reputation with Makima (80/100):
Makima appreciates your decision to hand over $10 million worth of Compound V for just 60 million yen.
On top of that, you gifted her the Red Leash — a custom-made gunblade perfectly suited for her. She won't forget it.
+20 Relationship with Kishibe (40/100):
Kishibe respects the gesture — selling Compound V at such a low cost to aid Public Safety didn't go unnoticed.
He's also quietly grateful you're keeping Makima occupied.
+10 Reputation with Kishibe (70/100):
Kishibe's inner thoughts:
"A rare lunatic who can distract Makima from breathing down our necks. Good enough for me."
+20 Relationship with Aki (20/100):
You intervened in Aki's Fox Devil contract, tweaking it to give him a major edge without the usual downsides.
He's cautiously thankful.
+20 Reputation with Aki (20/100):
He acknowledges your power, but still holds some resentment — mostly because of how casually you mess with Makima.
+20 Relationship with Himeno (20/100):
Himeno sees you as entertaining and unpredictable.
She appreciated how you gave Aki a boost, and your battle with Makima? She thought it was straight out of a blockbuster action scene.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Kang Woo gave a short sigh, eyes half-lidded as he read through the window.
Makima… the Control Devil reduced to a weather forecaster just to track me down?.
Poor woman still doesn't realize… I can teleport. Open gateways. I don't need re-entry coordinates.
The window dissolved like mist.
Then A flicker of pressure.
Kang Woo's eyes narrowed slightly. Something pulled at his senses — a distortion down below, subtle but sharp. He raised his hand without speaking, and behind him, an invisible structure bloomed into shape — an enormous black-red eye formed from concentric rings of corrupted mana, locked into a swirling, ethereal rotation.
Only he could see it. The Authority of the Beholder.
Kang Woo let it scan the surface far below — Tokyo's outlines sharpening in an instant. Dozens of buildings. Hundreds of lives. But one thread pinged with irregular frequency.
He focused. A narrow alleyway. Damp asphalt. Garbage bags. Shaking breath.
Kobeni. Her heartbeat was spiking erratically. Her posture was low — almost cowering — and she clutched a simple dagger in one trembling hand. Before her, a massive, lurching creature loomed — bloated and grotesque, its skin glistening with tomato-red pustules and stalks. The Tomato Devil.
Kang Woo sighed again, this time in something between amusement and pity.
Kobeni being Kobeni again.
He extended his hand lazily, and space warped instantly at his side — folding inward with a rippling distortion. A portal of pure black and blood-red energy yawned open beside him, humming with warping gravity.
Authority of Gateway. He stepped forward — and vanished.
—
Kobeni stood frozen in the alley, back against the wall, hand trembling violently around her dagger. The Tomato Devil oozed closer, making wet slapping noises with every step. Its voice gurgled unintelligibly, but its intent was clear — a final stomp, a burst of red, and she'd be gone.
Her legs refused to move. I wish I'd fallen in love at least once…
That was her final thought.
Then— FWOOOOOSH!
A black-red portal erupted into the alley with a thunderclap of pressure.
A massive crimson greatsword screamed through the air, launched from its swirling depths. The Rakshasa Blade impaled the Tomato Devil mid-charge — the cursed weapon burying itself deep into the beast's torso, severing cartilage and muscle in a single brutal strike. The devil wailed — but didn't die. It writhed, bile and seeds spilling from its mouth as it shrieked in rage.
And then THUMP. A man stepped through the portal.
Wings of void closed behind him with a hush. He landed between Kobeni and the wounded devil like a shadow dropped from Heaven's edge. His coat rippled with latent force. His posture was calm, completely unbothered.
Kobeni blinked. He didn't turn around. Just spoke — voice flat and amused.
"You alright, Kobeni-chan? Gonna cry again?"
Kobeni choked on air. Her eyes were wide, lips quivering, voice caught in her throat.
"Ehh—uh—I… wha—?!"
But before she could even process his presence, the Tomato Devil — still clinging to life through its pulpy remains — let out a warped shriek and lunged once more, swollen arms raised to crush them both.
Kang Woo didn't even look at it.
He raised his left hand lazily, and a black-red sigil pulsed into existence above his palm.
Authority of Extinction. The moment the sigil locked onto the devil's core, the Tomato Devil convulsed — its entire body freezing mid-lunge. Then It disintegrated. . Just red mist evaporating into lightless dust, atomized down to soul fragments that vanished into the cracks of the world.
Kobeni's jaw dropped. Her dagger hit the ground with a clink, her breath ragged and shallow.
Then—suddenly, like something snapped loose inside her—she lunged forward and hugged Kang Woo tight around the waist.
"Th-thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she sobbed, eyes shut tight, her voice muffled against his coat. "I thought I was gonna die, I really—!"
Kang Woo blinked, caught off guard by the sudden contact. He stood stiff for a second, Rakshasa Blade humming idly at his side.
"…Heyy… chillax," "It's just a Tomato Devil. Not like I slayed a Primeval God for you or something."
But as he spoke, he felt it — a shift in the weight around his left wrist.
His eyes flicked downward. There, attached to his arm like an ornamental restraint, the Black King's Chained Handcuff began to pulse . Four distinct soul- glowed within its dark links , each one representing a devil slain today.
One from this alley. Three from earlier, at the Devil Hunter's localbranch .
Kang Woo narrowed his gaze. "…I see," he murmured, watching as the souls dimmed and were drawn into the cuff's core. "So even if I don't directly use the Authority of Predation… the Black King still finishes the job."
He flexed his fingers slightly, feeling the souls dissipate into his system .
"The cuff consumes for me. Cleans up the leftovers."
Kobeni was still crying, arms wrapped tightly around his coat. She trembled against him, completely overwhelmed.
Kang Woo sighed again. "…Can you let me go now, Kobeni?"
The girl blinked, dazed, then recoiled as if electrocuted.
"O-oh! S-sorry—! I didn't mean—!" She stumbled back a step, bowing furiously, eyes darting. "I'm—um—Kobeni! I'm surprised you know my name! I'm just… just a candidate! Not even a real Devil Hunter yet—"
Kang Woo didn't respond. His expression shifted to something unreadable. He turned slightly — scanning the skyline with a lazy, half-lidded gaze. But his mind sharpened instantly.
He could feel it again. Makima's eyes are on the hunt again.
She was watching. Searching. Mapping weather shifts. Tracking pressure fronts. Probably pulling data from every street-level storm anomaly across Tokyo and beyond.
He sighed once more.
Then, without warning, he reached out and rested his hand on Kobeni's shoulder.
"H-huh?" she blinked, startled.
"Don't scream," Kang Woo said simply, voice flat. "We're moving."
He tugged her into the shadows of a narrow alleyway, vanishing from direct line-of-sight. The shadows folded around them like a curtain. absolute presence suppression..
And then—quietly—Kang Woo lifted two fingers behind his back.
Authority of Storms. Far away — in Kyoto — the sky ripped open. KRA-KOOM. A tempest exploded into being over the ancient capital: black clouds swirling like a living whirlpool, winds howling like banshees, lightning forking across the rooftops in unnatural patterns. Rain began to fall sideways, driven by monstrous gusts.
Back in Tokyo, every rat twitched. Every crow tilted its head. Every street-level insect froze… then turned.
The entire grid of Makima's surveillance turned sharply—toward Kyoto.. The streets emptied of watchers within seconds.
Kobeni looked around, eyes wide. "U-um… is it just me, or did everything get really quiet?"
Kang Woo didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the alley wall, hands in his pockets, head tilted lazily upward at the faint slice of sky.
And then he smirked. That should keep a certain tsundere Control Devil off my back for a while.
The storm raged far to the west, unnoticed here. And with the pressure lifted, the alley no longer felt suffocating. Just narrow. Quiet.
Kang Woo pushed off the wall, boots tapping lightly against the damp pavement. Kobeni followed, still a little timid — hands clasped in front of her, eyes flicking to him every few steps like he might disappear if she blinked.
Then — after what felt like ages for her — Kobeni finally spoke.
"…Mister," she said nervously, "what's your name?"
Kang Woo didn't stop walking.
"You can call me Oh Kang Woo," he said casually. "Or just Kang Woo. Simplified version's easier to remember."
Kobeni blinked, tilting her head slightly. "…Are you… Korean?"
Kang Woo's eyes flicked sideways, just once. Then he chuckled under his breath — not coldly, but distantly.
"Used to be," he said. "But time flows differently when you've been thrown into the deepest part of Hell."
Kobeni stared for a moment — unsure if he was joking. Then she let out a small, awkward laugh. "Ehehe… You're a funny guy."
They continued walking through the quiet streets of Japan. Neon lights flickered softly above, vending machines buzzed from sidewalks.
Kobeni walked just a step behind Kang Woo, stealing glances at him every few seconds — at his tall posture, the faint grin tugging at the edge of his mouth, the way he didn't seem bothered by anything.
He's… kind of cool, she thought, cheeks tinting pink.
After a moment of nervous fidgeting, she clenched her fists tight at her sides — and blurted out, "Kang Woo! Do you… um… want to spend the night at my place? I mean, to talk! Just to talk!"
Kang Woo stopped walking. He turned slightly, his expression unreadable. His eyes met hers — and she froze.
Mikhail's voice echoed suddenly through Kang Woo's mind — quiet, wry, and amused.
"Master… I suggest you take that offer. We don't have a base of operations with actual walls yet. Your other option is hotel."
Kang Woo exhaled through his nose, unamused. A floating eyeball suggesting domestic logistics now… wonderful.
Then, aloud, he asked simply, "Can you cook?"
Kobeni's hopeful expression faltered instantly. Her shoulders dropped. Eyes lowered.
"…I-I mean… not really…" she mumbled.
"…I'm not great at it," she added even softer.
Kang Woo raised an eyebrow. "Can you make ramen?"
Kobeni's head snapped up so fast she nearly lost balance.
"Yes!" she shouted with sudden desperation. "I can! I can make ramen! Please stay at my house!"
She threw her arms out in panic — like this was her one shot at redeeming herself.
Kang Woo stared for a second.
Then gave the faintest of nods. "…Alright," he said. "Lead the way."
Kobeni blinked twice. Then spun on her heel and motioned frantically, "This way! It's not far, I promise! I'll—I'll get water boiling right away!"
Kang Woo followed calmly, hands in his pockets, his steps casual as Kobeni led him up the narrow stairwell to her cramped little apartment. The hallway light flickered once. The door creaked.
Inside, the place was small — very small. The dining table was shoved against the wall, right next to a futon. The kitchenette barely had room for two people to stand. A single window overlooked the quiet Tokyo streets.
Kang Woo gave the room a quick glance. One step to the left and you were in the kitchen. Two steps to the right and you hit the bed. All-in-one living, cramped and desperate.
Mikhail's voice flickered in from the eye on his hand — smug as ever.
"…A cute girl offering shelter and food. How domestic of you, Master. Should I start drafting blueprints for a nursery next?"
Kang Woo ignored him.
Kobeni, meanwhile, scrambled nervously behind the counter — boiling water, preparing toppings, fumbling with utensils . Minutes later, she approached with the best ramen she could possibly make: thick noodles, a soft-boiled egg, spring onions, seasoned broth, two slices of cha-shu, and a prayer whispered over it.
She set it down with both hands, trembling slightly. "I… I hope you enjoy it," she said, voice quiet, eyes wide with worry.
Kang Woo picked up the chopsticks. Took a bite. Chewed.
And then—
"IT'S FUCKING LECIOUSSSSS—WOOOO! DAMNNNN!" he roared, slamming his hand down onto the table, eyes wide like he'd just seen the birth of a star.
"For ten thousand years—TEN. THOUSAND—I've been stuck with subordinates who don't know shit! Lilith once fed me a roasted demon lung and said it was 'lightly braised.' BALROG thinks putting ashes in soup makes it 'earthy!'"
He slammed down another bite. "This—THIS is the only time I've felt alive!"
Kobeni froze. Then blinked. Then teared up — her lower lip trembling as her eyes welled with joy.
"Th-thank you, Kang Woo… this is the first time someone's ever praised me…"
She wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, sniffling, overwhelmed and dazed.
But then, a second later — her brows furrowed.
"…Wait. Ten thousand years? That means… you're older than anyone I've ever met. …"
Kang Woo didn't flinch. He kept slurping noodles between sentences, totally nonchalant. "Living for ten thousand years in the deepest hell isn't exactly fun, you know."
Kobeni looked like she wanted to say more — maybe ask about what "hell" meant, maybe tease him about his age — but the words never left her lips.
The front door burst open with a violent bang that shook the cheap frame of the apartment. The lights flickered once.
A large, unshaven man stomped inside — reeking of cheap liquor and stale smoke, wearing a stained button-up half tucked into his pants. His presence filled the room like a curse.
Takuro. Kobeni's father. He pointed a trembling finger at her, eyes bloodshot and hateful.
"KOBENI!" he shouted. "Where's the damn money, you useless little filth?! I sent you out to work and you come back EMPTY-HANDED?! What the hell do you think this is, a vacation?!"
Kobeni froze, eyes wide with fear. Her hands trembled near the bowl she'd just proudly served. "P-please, I—"
Takuro raised his arm to strike her. But before the hand could fall— SHLICK. His entire forearm vanished in an instant — severed with surgical precision. It hit the floor with a wet slap, blood pouring down his sleeve before he even registered the pain.
"MY—MY ARM—!" Takuro screamed, stumbling backward, clutching the cauterized stump. "WHAT THE F—?!"
The room darkened. A vine , had erupted from Kang Woo's left hand — from the eye embedded in the back of his palm. It opened now, wide and glowing, Mikhail's eye — radiating judgment.
The vine slithered back into Kang Woo's hand, but the presence remained.
Takuro staggered, screaming. But before he could even bolt for the door—
CLAMP.
Kang Woo moved faster than thought.
He gripped Takuro's face with one hand — palm locked over his mouth, , forcing the man into silence. Takuro thrashed, but Kang Woo didn't budge.
"Quiet," Kang Woo said.
And then… The walls pulsed.A black liquid seeped across the floor — inky, alive, rippling like a heartbeat. It crawled up the walls, coated the furniture, and twisted into spindly limbs. The lights dimmed, then vanished altogether. Kobeni gasped.
From the shadows behind Kang Woo, a figure emerged —, formless, but with glowing void and a pulsing core in its chest like a demon's heart. Its entire body was made of writhing black ooze. This was Nightmare, Kang Woo's loyal familiar.
The Nightmare's eye gazed at Takuro — Takuro's muscles seized. His legs buckled. Sweat rolled down his face. He couldn't even scream. Only wide, shaking eyes stared back in primal, suffocating fear.
Kang Woo leaned closer, voice calm — almost playful."You know, I'm a guest," he said.
He gripped Takuro's jaw tighter, tilting the man's face upward. "Blink if you can understand that."
Takuro blinked — once, sharp, terrified.
Kang Woo grinned."Good."
He didn't loosen his grip just yet. His voice, calm and low, carried more weight than any shout ever could. "In this world… maybe it's the same as mine. You told your own daughter to go fight devils — devils — just to earn some yen… while you sat at home doing God-knows-what."
Kang Woo leaned in closer, breath cold against Takuro's cheek. "That makes you the worst kind of father."
His hand remained clamped over the man's mouth. "Blink… if I'm right."
Takuro blinked again — eyes darting, trembling.
Kang Woo slowly turned his head, gaze drifting toward Kobeni.
She was already staring, hands clenched at her chest — but not afraid. She understood what that look meant. He was waiting. For confirmation. And she didn't hesitate.
"My father…" kobeni said , voice trembling but resolute, "…told me to carry all our financial problems. I was supposed to earn money for nine sisters and two brothers…"
Her eyes dropped slightly. "But please… Kang Woo. Don't kill him. He's still my father."
Kang Woo's expression didn't change. But his thoughts stirred.
A homeless father who keeps making kids... What a fucking world.
The black liquid on the walls simmered, twitching as if reading his thoughts.
Then Kang Woo exhaled — slow, measured. He didn't smile this time.
Instead, he lowered his hand from Takuro's mouth and spoke flatly.
"Here's what you're gonna do."
His voice was cold as ice. "First — get a vasectomy. Immediately. No debate." "Second — take care of the children you already have. Feed them. Raise them. Don't make your daughter carry your failures. And third — get the fuck out of this city."
He tilted his head slightly. "Understand me?"
Takuro, pale as a ghost and bleeding from the stump of his arm, blinked — once.
Kang Woo released him. Takuro dropped to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath, clutching the remains of his severed limb. He looked like he might throw up.
But then he scrambled up to his feet, panic driving his every step.
"I-I'll go! I'll leave Japan myself! NOW!" he shrieked, stumbling over his own feet as he ran toward the open door.
In the blink of an eye, he vanished into the hallway, half-falling down the steps, blood trailing behind him.
The Nightmare receded into the shadows once more. Kang Woo stood still — unshaken.
Kang Woo stood still Until— Kobeni suddenly threw her arms around him.
She pressed herself into his chest, her small frame trembling, eyes squeezed shut. And before he could stop it — before Mikhail could even react — she leaned up and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you… v-verrryyy much," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I owe you my life… You freed me from my greatest burden…"
She clutched his clothes tighter. "…Does this make me a bad person? For making my father end up like that…?"
Kang Woo looked at her with a quiet understanding forged in flames deeper than any earthly hell.
His voice came slow and bitter. "Gods of the multiverse do nothing and take a shit. I prefer being a devil. At the very least, we all laugh in Hell."
His thoughts stirred, curling beneath his surface like embers rekindling. I'm a Demon King anyway. Mikhail already confirmed it — devils in this world are nothing but invalids in the eyes of my kind . Just scattered mutations feeding off fear.
Kobeni blinked, confused. "…I don't really get that 'gods of the multiverse' stuff," she mumbled, tilting her head slightly.
But then — she smiled. Just a little. Shakily. Sincerely. "Then I'll make sure I'll be the most trusted person you'll ever have, Kang Woo. "I don't know where you came from… or what you really are. But you protected me when no one else would ,I'll stand by you. No matter what."
Kang Woo didn't smile. He just turned toward the door, his tone clipped and decisive.
"Pack yourself up. We're leaving. I hate this stain of an apartment."
Kobeni blinked, startled, but quickly nodded. "O-Okay!"
She rushed to gather what little she owned — a few sets of worn clothes, a toothbrush, some old pictures tucked into the corners of a photo frame. All of it fit into one moderately sized bag. That was her life.
Kang Woo watched her work. Once she was done, he asked without looking at her:
"Your father… didn't give a shit about you, did he?"
Kobeni paused, gripping the strap of her bag tightly.
She didn't answer at first. But then, softly, she said:
"…My father, Takuro… he only gave money to my older brother. The one going to college. Said it was an 'investment.' The rest of us didn't matter."
Kang Woo didn't reply with words.
He simply held out a hand — and with a soft pulse of shadow energy, the bag slipped into the swirling black portal beneath his feet, vanishing into his personal shadow inventory.
Kobeni gasped. "W-Where did it go?"
"Safe space," Kang Woo muttered. "Better than this dump.". "You rarely eat real food, don't you?"
Kobeni scratched her cheek, embarrassed. "I… usually eat cup ramen and carrots. Sometimes I treat myself to a single sausage stick…"
Kang Woo exhaled sharply through his nose — whether in amusement or pity, even he wasn't sure.
Then, Mikhail stirred — his voice crackling through the Eye with restrained irritation.
"Master… I must ask. Why didn't you let me bombard that abusive waste of flesh with Zaiphon?"
Kang Woo rolled his eyes. "I want to lay low for a while."
He started walking toward the door. "Makima's been a bit… possessive lately. If I incinerated a civilian, even a scumbag, she'd come knocking faster than usual. I still want that personal talk with her. But not today."
With that, he reached the door, held it open, and looked back at Kobeni. "You coming?"
She nodded once and followed without hesitation.
They sat side by side in a booth at Hanamaya Udon, one of Tokyo's oldest and most beloved noodle shops. The scent of broth, scallions, and freshly boiled noodles hung thick in the air — comforting and nostalgic.
The waitress approached their table with practiced ease, placing a steaming bowl in front of Kobeni with a bright smile.
"Here's your udon, my lady. Please enjoy!"
Kobeni bowed her head quickly. "T-Thank you very much!"
She turned toward Kang Woo, hesitating slightly.
"You sure you don't want any?" she asked, poking her chopsticks gently at the noodles. "I mean… you paid like two hundred thousand yen just for me to eat. Are you… angry?"
Kang Woo leaned back in the booth, arms crossed, gaze distant.
"I'm not in the mood to eat . "I just miss the smell of real food."
Kobeni blinked at him, unsure how to respond. She turned back to her bowl, quietly slurping.
At that moment, across the restaurant, a commotion stirred by the kitchen door.
A younger waitress rushed up to a sharply-dressed manager standing near the service counter.
"Sir!" she whispered frantically. "The local conductor's missing! We can't start the orchestra for the guests tonight—"
The manager stiffened. "What about the backup?"
The waitress fumbled with her notepad. "Uhh… eaten by a devil this morning. Out near the train station…"
The manager closed his eyes. Breathed in deep. And facepalmed. "…Unbelievable."
Kobeni watched the scene unfold, her chopsticks frozen in midair. "That's… awful."
Kang Woo didn't even glance their way.
"Ignore them," he muttered, gaze fixed out the window. "It's not our concern."
A sharp ping echoed through Kang Woo's mind — crisp, melodic, and undeniable.
─── SYSTEM NOTICE ───
+100 Relationship with Kobeni (100/100)
— Kobeni sees you as her hero. This relationship is now locked and cannot be altered.
You have inherited: Extraordinary Luck ( Lucky Duck )
— A passive trait passed unknowingly from Kobeni herself. Your Luck stat has greatly increased.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Kang Woo raised one brow, mildly amused as a faint warmth coiled around his core — invisible but unmistakable. The shift in his Luck stat was palpable. The world felt just a touch more pliable.
"Hmph," he muttered under his breath, lips curling into a crooked smirk.
Then — another ping.
─── QUEST ACTIVATED ───
Title: Make Your Name
Description: Hanamaya Udon is on the verge of losing its reputation. The musical guest scheduled for tonight has gone missing, and the backup has been devoured by devils.
Objective: Replace the conductor. Construct your own orchestra.
Reward: Doom Slayer's Super Shotgun
Hidden Reward: ?
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Kang Woo closed his eyes for a second, letting the information settle.
Of course. He exhaled through his nose and murmured, "…As expected."
Across the table, Kobeni blinked at him between slurps of udon. "Huh? What is?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming on the table in a deliberate rhythm — pulse, pause, pulse — like a march only he could hear. His thoughts turned inward.
Does the Black King want me moving publicly already? Doing something this… visible?
The cuff on his left wrist — the Despair of the Black King — pulsed, almost in agreement
That was all the confirmation he needed. Kang Woo stood.
Kobeni looked up, noodles still hanging from her lips. "H-Huh?"
He didn't answer her. He crossed the room in long, fluid strides — cloak brushing lightly against chairs as he moved. He stopped in front of the flustered manager, who was still whispering urgently with staff.
"Hey," Kang Woo said flatly. "I'll replace the conductor."
The manager blinked. "What?"
Kang woo said "I'll take over. Conductor role. For the orchestra."
The younger waitress nearby — the one who had delivered Kobeni's food — tugged on her manager's sleeve, whispering hurriedly, "Just take the offer. Please. We don't have a choice."
The manager rubbed his forehead, exhausted, then eyed Kang Woo suspiciously.
"You realize the show starts in an hour? It's five o'clock now. You've got ten minutes to prove you're not some idiot playing dress-up. You waste our time…" He jabbed a finger toward the door. "You're out.."
Kang Woo didn't flinch. "Fair to me."
He turned away before the manager could say anything else, already walking toward the empty stage — his presence shifting the air. Every step was quiet, precise, almost like a metronome ticking into motion.
Within moments, the orchestra staff, half-broken and confused, were moving as if under a spell. Kang Woo raised one hand — and with a single motion, summoned a phantom staff of shadow, radiating silent authority.
Then it began. At first, hesitant. Then faster.
Ten minutes of intensity. Strings, brass, percussion — reshaped, repurposed, rewritten by sheer force of will. Kang Woo's eyes gleamed as invisible pressure flowed through the room.
When the final note rang out in rehearsal, silence fell like a curtain. Even the kitchen staff had stopped working. One of the chefs dropped a ladle.
The manager, mouth slightly agape, whispered: "…I can't believe it. You just made Beethoven proud."
Kang Woo stepped off the podium, eyes calm, sleeves still drifting as if caught in some residual breeze of power.
"But that can't work," he said flatly, "if the music is the usual people hear ."
He tilted his head toward the manager. "What was it called again? Caravan? That jazz track from Whiplash?"
The manager, stunned, didn't answer.
Kang Woo looked toward the orchestra. His eyes sharpened, calculating.
"We need something else. A new song. Something mind-blowing."
The manager stepped closer now, arms crossed, but something in his voice shifted. Less skepticism. More curiosity.
"What's your name, son?"
Kang Woo didn't glance back. "Call me Kang Woo."
The manager nodded slowly, then smirked.
"Kang Woo, my boy… if you pull this off — if by some crazy reason this turns into a five-star performance — I'll give you and your entire family free meals here. Three years. No limit."
Kang Woo didn't react with surprise. "Let's get to work."
Without ceremony, he turned toward the music stands. Shadow and ink flowed from his fingertips, etching sharp, elegant music notation into sheets with impossible speed. Page by page, title after title — each orchestral section received its score, perfectly written.
The first violinist raised an eyebrow, murmuring to the player beside him.
"One of these pieces… it's called Once Upon a Time?"
He flipped through the pages. "And this last one — Finale . Where the hell did that come from?"
Kang Woo didn't answer right away.
He closed his eyes briefly, smiling just a little. I always loved the story of Undertale. But… this world never had a Good creator .
He stepped forward, tapping the edge of the conductor's stand.
"Let's try rehearsal again."
He paused, scanning their faces, then added:
"If you have a better idea than I do, I want to hear it.."
His tone deadly serious — and completely open. The kind of offer only someone who knew they'd still lead could afford to make. Then chairs shifted. Bows lifted. And the music began to sing again.
6:00 PM.
The city buzzed softly as twilight took hold, neon signs flickering on one by one across Tokyo's dense skyline. Among the evening crowd, three Public Safety agents made their way down the sidewalk toward Hanayama Udon —. Makima walked at the front, pristine as always, flanked by Aki and Himeno.
Aki exhaled lightly, adjusting the strap of his coat.
"Thank you, Makima-san. You treating us to dinner is… rare."
Himeno raised an eyebrow, smirking sideways.
"Makima-san, why the sudden change? You usually just vanish back to HQ after hours…"
Her smirk deepened.
"Must be Kang Woo. Are you in love with him?"
Makima didn't stop walking — but her smile sharpened, and her eyes gleamed just a little.
"Himeno-chan, Careful. Keep talking like that, and I might have to fire you."
"Ooh, scary, scary," Himeno teased, holding up her hands in mock surrender.
"The Great Makima-sama is threatening her own subordinates now. But hey — whatever Kang Woo did to you, I approve. You've been… easier to talk to. Like a human."
Makima gave no response. Her smile faded into a quiet, unreadable curve.
But inside her head, her thoughts were seething.
That damn Kang Woo… The Commandment of Love — I'm fucking relieved I managed to trap it inside my apartment before heading out. But Kyoto…?
Her jaw clenched slightly, eyes narrowing.
Kyoto was a complete waste. I stood there for hours in the middle of a storm, scanning the sky like some obsessed cultist — waiting for him to fall from orbit. Normally, I'd expect Mikhail to at least respond.. Maybe even a bombardment on my rats and crows. That's why I was there — to personally witness it. But this time? Nothing. My surveillance didn't so much as get singed. It's like Kang Woo was never meant to be there in the first place.
Her fingers twitched in the pocket of her coat. That bastard was probably just floating up there… sleeping. While I stood there like a damn fool.
She exhaled slowly, forcing a long breath through her nose to calm the surge in her chest.
Behind her, Himeno leaned in and whispered to Aki, "…She's definitely thinking about him right now."
Aki gave a soft nod. "She's more animated lately. That guy really is a walking problem."
As they turned the corner, all three of them froze.
The streets outside Hanamaya Udon were packed — tables lined up like some kind of open-air banquet. Lights strung overhead, a soft orchestral tune playing live from the center of the event. festive, loud — nothing like the usually quiet storefront.
"What the hell…?" Himeno murmured.
They approached the edge, staring at the massive crowd gathered around the restaurant. Before they could move further, a waitress in uniform quickly intercepted them, holding a clipboard.
"I'm sorry," she said, bowing politely. "There's currently a waiting list of thirty parties. You'll need to register and wait for your turn."
Aki frowned. "Thirty? What caused this place to get so busy all of a sudden…?"
Then, from the center of the street, a voice rang out clearly — calm, confident, and unmistakable.
"…And that was Caravan, for the opening. Let's keep the tempo tight on the next one." Its Kang Woo.
Himeno blinked, then suddenly burst out laughing. "AHAHAH! That guy again? He can do anything, Isn't that right, Maki—"
She stopped mid-sentence. Aki glanced sideways worried .
Makima stood still. Her expression was calm — too calm — but her eyes had changed. Distant. Quietly pained. A single tear nearly formed at the corner of one eye before she blinked it away.
I thought that by getting the weather forecast device, I could track you… that I could reach you.
But just like you said, Kang Woo… I'm the one who needs to wake up to reality.
You were already here.
While I…
Before her thoughts could spiral further, a break in the music — and then a familiar voice called out across the event space, this time with full clarity.
"That young lady and her group—" Kang Woo's hand pointed in their direction. "—they're my VIP guests. Let them in."
Aki blinked. "…Huh?"
Himeno's jaw dropped. "Ehhhhh?!"
Makima said nothing. Her eyes met Kang Woo's across the crowd .
Then Kang Woo began to move., like a gentleman from an old tale. One hand slipped calmly into his pocket, the other extended toward her in quiet invitation.
When he finally stood in front of her, he tilted his head slightly and offered,
"Will you take my offer, Makima?"
Makima blinked, then raised her hand to wipe away the remnants of the tears she had nearly shed. Her smile returned — a faint, teasing curve.
"Gladly, my despicable chuunibyou… Oh Kang Woo."
Kang Woo chuckled under his breath. "You wound me."
He turned slightly toward the restaurant's entrance. "Manager. My guests can order anything they want. No limits."
The manager, still starstruck by the crowd and the live orchestra Kang Woo had whipped into form, quickly nodded. "Of course! You gave us a five-star opening — they can eat the whole damn menu if they want."
Kang Woo led the group toward the reserved section, weaving through the tables with casual confidence. At a shaded spot under a glowing lantern, Kobeni sat quietly, already munching on pickled radish, eyes lighting up as she spotted him.
As they walked, Aki leaned in with a low murmur, just loud enough for Kang Woo to hear.
"…Why did Makima-san look like she'd been crying when she saw you? Did you do something stupid again?". "Besides sticking a Commandment inside her apartment?"
Kang Woo gave a tired half-smile and shrugged. "I think everyone just misjudges the signals… when they're desperate to meet someone."
Makima, still walking just a pace behind him, gave him a playful side-eye.
"You could've told me you were still here, you damn chuunibyou," she muttered, brushing her hair back.
Kang Woo didn't turn around — he just raised one hand in mock surrender, that crooked grin on his face again. "I thought you'd enjoy the hunt."
Himeno, strolling alongside Aki, leaned in with a grin and threw her arms behind her head. . "At this rate, you're probably gonna replace Makima as our boss one day."
Kang Woo glanced at her, smirking. "Very funny, Himeno. But I don't think I've got Makima's emotional stability for that."
Makima's lips curved upward. "I'll take that as a compliment, then."
As the group arrived at the reserved table, Kobeni stood up quickly, napkin still clutched in her hand. She bowed with practiced nervousness. "Kang Woo, sir…"
Before she could finish, Kang Woo gently patted her head, his tone casual but firm.
"There's no need for that formality , kobeni ."
He turned slightly, gesturing behind him with a small wave. "Also, behind me — the one with red hair and scary eyes, that's Makima. The gloomy one's Aki. And the loud drunkard… is Himeno."
"Hey!" Himeno barked, but grinned immediately after. She stepped forward and, without hesitation, wrapped Kobeni in a sudden hug — like they were old drinking buddies from some forgotten past.
"Kobeni-chan! Can I call you that?" she said, already swaying slightly with excitement. "Let's drink! Kang Woo's treating us tonight, right?"
Kobeni blinked, stiff in her arms, overwhelmed. "Uhh… sure. Though… I've never had liquor before. All my life."
Himeno gasped theatrically. "Whaaaat?! That's a crime we'll fix tonight!"
Makima arched a brow, smirking as she glanced at Kang Woo.
"The scary eyes , huh? You should take a look at yourself. You dress like you walked out of the Heian era, you're eyes they're crimson like blood — and let's not forget the extra eye embedded in the back of your left palm. "You're more terrifying than I am."
Kang Woo raised one finger to his lips, a calm but deliberate shh gesture. "If Mikhail wakes up, he'll start trouble again."
Makima chuckled lightly but said no more.
Kang Woo leaned back in his seat, gaze steady now."So… any pep talk, Makima-san? I mean, practically speaking, you're a denizen of this world. I'm just an outsider passing through."
Makima tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing with amusement.
"Calling me -san like that is oddly polite — makes it sound like you're teasing me… or mocking me.". "But no pep talk. I want something else."
She leaned forward slightly, just enough that only he could really catch her expression. "Surprise me, Kang Woo."
Kang Woo gave a shallow bow, eyes closed for just a second. "As you wish, Makima."
He stepped toward the center of the stage, his stride smooth and unhurried. The nearby conductor's cane — black wood inlaid with shimmering silver filigree — was already waiting for him. He took it in hand, spun it once between his fingers, and faced the orchestra.
With a simple glance, the players all straightened . Just presence — that was enough.
He raised the baton. Meanwhile, the group had taken their seats at the reserved table — front row, perfect view.
Makima, eyes never quite leaving Kang Woo, tilted her head slightly. Something tugged at her curiosity. She leaned back and reached toward the rear of the table, where a thin booklet rested beneath the wine menu — almost too neatly placed.
She pulled it free.
"Orchestra of Undertale."
The title was printed in stark, clean letters. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes sharpened as she flipped open the first page.
"Once Upon a Time."
Makima's fingers stilled, just barely. Are you… making an orchestra? Or telling a story?
From the center of the stage, Kang Woo raised his head slowly — his eyes scanning the dense crowd that now filled the streets around Hanamaya Udon. Families, elders, office workers, even passing tourists… all drawn by the music.
His voice carried through the gentle hush. "Enjoy the first act," he said. "Once Upon a Time."
Kang woo moved his hand. And the music began. It started soft — a lullaby carried by a single violin, then joined by the warmth of the cello and the subtle echo of the flute.
For one hour straight, the music flowed.
"Once Upon a Time."
"Start Menu."
"Ruins."
"Snowdin Town."
"Waterfall."
"Hotland."
"Undertale."
And then — "Bergentruckung."
The crowd had already started to cheer by then. Some had tears in their eyes. Others swayed gently, mesmerized. Even the streetlights seemed to dim, as though letting the music shine brighter.
It felt like the finale. It sounded like the end.
But then — A single note snapped the air like a whip. And the song shifted. The melody twisted. Notes sharpened like blades. The tempo surged, and every instrument snapped into a different rhythm — chaotic, demented, thunderous.
"Your Best Nightmare."
The crowd flinched. Children covered their ears. Several people gasped. The energy felt wrong now — dark, carnivalesque, and manic.
Kang Woo stood at the center, still and commanding, as Your Best Nightmare came alive. It wasn't just music — it was a fever dream. Chaotic chimes, crashing percussion, piercing notes that rose and fell like a mind unraveling. The air felt colder. The lights trembled. It was fear, but composed. Controlled.
The audience couldn't explain it — but they felt it.
A sense of isolation. Dread.
Like crying for help… and no one answering . Just the madness of being alone.
Some covered their mouths. A few children clung tighter to their parents.
But Kang Woo didn't stop. With a final slash of his baton, the tempo shattered — and shifted.
Suddenly, a new melody rose. Finale. It was bold. Heroic. An unyielding rhythm. A call to fight. Determination.
The instruments danced —in harmony. Brass soared. Strings climbed upward like victory was within reach. Every note hit like a heartbeat refusing to slow down.
The crowd changed with it. Smiles began to appear. Shoulders straightened. Eyes lit with something wordless but clear.
A single person began clapping.
Then another — slowly, deliberately, syncing with the rhythm.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Matching the beat.
A street of strangers, all swept into something but felt.
Makima lifted her eyes, her lips parting in silent realization. Kang Woo… you're making them believe it.
The music surged — Finale echoing across the city like a heartbeat shared by thousands. Kang Woo stood firm at the center of it all, guiding the last two minutes with unwavering focus. The orchestra moved as one, each note landing with precision, purpose — like destiny itself being scored in real time.
The crowd — over fifty thousand strong — was swept away.
Hands clapped in perfect rhythm.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow. Unified. Relentless.
And then, just as the final swell climbed toward its peak, Kang Woo raised one hand high.
His voice cut through the music like a blade of light.
"You all are filled with…?"
He left the sentence hanging.
And without hesitation — as if it had always been true — the crowd answered as one:
"COURAGE!"
The roar echoed across the buildings, loud enough to shake windows. For a heartbeat, it felt like Tokyo itself responded — the city's pulse syncing to that single word.
Kang Woo grinned faintly, lowering his hand. With one fluid motion, he signaled the orchestra's end.
The final note struck. Then — streets exploded into applause. Cheers surged like a tidal wave. People stood from their seats. Some climbed onto ledges and rooftops just to see him longer — to make the moment last.
"YOU'RE AMAZING, MISTER WOOOOOOO!" yelled a child from someone's shoulders, waving both arms.
Aki chuckled, clapping with surprising warmth.
"Well done, Kang Woo."
Himeno raised her can of beer in salute, smirking as she swayed to the crowd's rhythm.
"To the Music King of Tokyo," she said with a laugh.
Makima said nothing at first. She just stared — her eyes unreadable, her lips forming the smallest, strangest smile. "…This is the rare time in my life," she murmured, voice barely audible over the noise, "that people gathered around hope and courage … instead of fear." You surprised us all."
Then — a slow, deliberate clap echoed behind the crowd. Just one man, clapping.
And when heads turned, silence followed.
Stan Edgar. The CEO of Vought International stood just beyond the stage area, flanked by his ever-composed assistant, Madelyn Stillwell. He adjusted his cufflinks, then gave a single nod of approval toward the street stage — toward Kang Woo.
he said calmly, voice smooth and unreadable. "That was… enlightening."
Madelyn smiled politely, hands folded in front of her, eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk.
Kang Woo didn't look surprised. He stood still at center stage, expression neutral. His thoughts, however, churned with cold clarity.
Stan Edgar. The most important guest that manager was desperate to impress… I already sensed your presence the moment the staff started panicking backstage. But what interests me more… is that you're here now — with Makima also present.
His eyes narrowed. You know exactly what Makima is — how dangerous she is. Which isn't surprising. But I didn't expect you to appear publicly in front of her. You're testing the waters now, Edgar? Brave.
Across the crowd, Makima's gaze sharpened. Stan Edgar…? What the hell is he doing here?
Her thoughts tightened like a wire. I made sure everything about the Compound V exchange was buried — sealed. The only people who know Kang Woo supplied it… are myself, Kishibe, Aki, Himeno… and Kang Woo himself.
Her eyes flicked to Kang Woo's back. Kang Woo does whatever the hell he wants… but even then, there's no way Edgar should've known enough to come here unless someone's playing a deeper game.
Makima's smile returned — thinner now. She stepped forward slightly, just enough that her presence could no longer be ignored by Vought's CEO.
Stan, as expected, didn't flinch. His hands were still.
Only his eyes moved — meeting hers with the faintest nod of recognition.
But her hand — beneath the table — moved with surgical precision.
Resting quietly on her open palm was the Eye of Mikhail, a red orb that pulsed once with a silent awareness, as if it had been watching long before any of them arrived.
Suddenly, black vines slithered from the orb's edges — tiny, near-invisible threads that etched words directly onto the lacquered surface of the table like a burning brand:
"Homelander is here. Still hovering above the clouds."
"But things will escalate. Quickly."
"My master, Kang Woo, offers you a choice."
"One: Escape safely, without consequence."
"Two: Stay here and become part of the crossfire."
"Choose wisely, low creatures."
The last line bled in with cruel indifference, seared into the wood like a branding iron.
Makima's eyes flicked across the message with clinical calm.
Then her gaze shifted to Kobeni. The shy girl flinched under the weight of that gaze… and then jolted in shock as Makima handed her the Eye of Mikhail.
Makima's words followed, casual but final. "I'm going to accompany Kang Woo. We have things to… discuss."
Then her eyes passed over Aki and Himeno in a silent command. Decide. Quickly.
Without another word, Makima rose and began walking toward Kang Woo's position.
Back at the table, Himeno leaned sideways on one elbow, smirking at the still-quiet orb in Kobeni's hands.
"Hehh… your master's got you playing babysitter now, huh?" she muttered at the orb. "Ordering you to protect us 'low creatures'? That's rich. Kind of sarcastic, isn't it, Mikhail?"
The Eye of Mikhail remained still at first — but then, as if answering her mockery, a faint pulse rippled across its surface. Cold. Measured.
Aki glanced over, voice level but edged with curiosity.
"If we do choose to escape… how exactly are you going to help us?"
Without a sound, the orb responded.
From Kobeni's palm, the Zaiphon runes activated — a flicker, then a shimmer — forming a low, transparent barrier around the trio. Glyphs burned faint blue along the edges. Time itself seemed to ripple for a second.
And then they were gone from the visible spectrum.
The crowd, the buildings, the sky — all went on.
But to the outside world, their table no longer existed.
"Whoa…" Kobeni whispered. "Thank you, Mikhail. I'm… really grateful."
The Eye pulsed once more — but it wasn't smug. Just… business.
Then Himeno leaned forward with that familiar mischief in her eyes.
"Okay, hear me out. Since we're invisible now… let's rob the most expensive liquor store nearby.".
Then, for the first time, Mikhail's eye twitched slightly. "What. That's not part of the plan."
Himeno grinned. "No butts. Your master Kang Woo said to help us, right? Help us. That means we can do whatever we want."
"That… is an unstable interpretation of the mission parameters—" Mikhail said
Aki cut in, eyes narrowed in exhausted foresight. "Himeno-senpai, I suggest we leave while we still can. Quietly. Before we escalate things again."
Himeno only smirked harder and grabbed his sleeve.
"Aki~ You're my junior. Aren't you supposed to help your senpai?"
Before Aki could respond,
Mikhail's voice rang out coldly from the orb nestled in Kobeni's palm.
"Listen to your ME , low creatures. That's what you are."
Aki's eye twitched at the word again.
"…Low creature,?" he muttered under his breath — then used the moment to smirk back at Himeno.
"Himeno-senpai," he said suddenly, "how much do you plan to rob from that store?"
Himeno crossed her arms proudly.
"All of it. The beer, the hard stuff, even cigars — if they've got 'em."
Aki nodded with mock seriousness.
"…I'm in, Himeno-senpai."
Kobeni looked like she was about to collapse from shock.
Mikhail pulsed faintly from the orb, almost like it regretted not self-destructing earlier.
"…Me and my Arrogance . " it muttered to itself.
Then louder, in its usual disdainful tone: ". Let's rob from more low creatures. Consider this charity… from a higher being."
With that, the three ducked into the invisible folds of the Zaiphon barrier, slipping out of the udon plaza quietly.
Back at the center of the stage, Makima stepped forward —. She said nothing. Her expression was unreadable, but her presence was impossible to ignore.
Stan Edgar was already waiting there, flanked by Madelyn Stillwell. His posture was sharp, commanding, the stance of a man used to giving orders to those far beneath him. With a practiced flick of his hand, he motioned toward the translator standing at the edge of the platform.
Before a word could be spoken, Kang Woo casually pointed his thumb back toward Makima.
"No need," he said. "I understand English just fine. Same goes for the woman beside me."
Stan froze for just a second. A small pause, the kind corporate men like him rarely let slip.
Madelyn blinked, clearly thrown. But Kang Woo didn't spare them another glance. His eyes remained half-lidded .the face of someone who already knew the ending of this conversation.
Makima kept her gaze fixed upward locked onto the thick mass of clouds above. Waiting. He's up there, she thought. Still watching.
Homelander's presence wasn't visible. But she felt him. Like a pressure in the air — simmering, judging, bloodthirsty behind a facade of smiles.
Her eyes dropped back down — slowly, deliberately — and locked onto Stan Edgar.
Not a word passed her lips. But her glare said enough: You brought this here. You knew what you were doing ? .
Stan didn't flinch, but his thoughts swirled tightly behind his eyes.
The infamous Control Devil. I've only ever read about her — buried documents, suppressed case files, rumors from operations long since wiped clean. I never thought I'd stand face to face with her.
He took one step forward and adjusted his tie with precise confidence, then spoke in that calm, corporate tone of his.
"My name is Stan Edgar," he said. "And beside me is Madelyn, my assistant."
He gestured to Stillwell, who gave a polite, business-like nod, her eyes flickering between Kang Woo and Makima with professional unease.
Stan continued, "And you must be Kang Woo. A devil hunter, some say. But not one under Public Safety's leash. I've heard others call you… a private-sector phenomenon."
Kang Woo didn't shift. He stood with hands in his pockets, posture loose, gaze somewhere past Stan Edgar's head.
"I'm just a traveler," he replied simply. "I leave when the wind calls me."
Stan smiled tightly. "Then I'd like to offer you… the best wind possible."
He gestured toward the crowd still lingering in awe around the plaza. "What you just did tonight?. That was an event. people will chase. Word is already spreading — fast . You're a cultural spark."
Stan's eyes gleamed with opportunity. "So here's the offer: I want to employ you as part of Vought's musical division. A full branch, tailored around you. Vought Musical Studio. Live broadcasts. Global 'll be paid handsomely. Dollars, pounds — your choice. You won't need to worry about anything except being seen."
But as Stan spoke, his mind ticked in overdrive.
If he refuses… he's a wanderer.. We'll track him down eventually, find leverage, maybe flip someone close to him. If he accepts, there's no need for Plan B. He'll be ours. Our entertainer. And distraction. A perfect tool to clean up Homelander's messes and buy us time.
Kang Woo spoke — with a smirk tugging at his lips and his tone infuriatingly casual. "What do you think, Makima? , Should I accept?"
Stan's internal gears ground to a halt for a second. …What?
His jaw tightened slightly. He's under her protection? That's not in the reports. I don't like that.
Makima stepped closer, folding her arms loosely. Her smile was the same—gentle, amused—but her eyes were sharp, deadly.
"My answer?" she said coolly. "Prepare to get leased. The money sounds nice. But the collar's tighter."
Her gaze locked onto Stan Edgar's. "People forget things… some concepts… but I don't. I remember what your country, vought company, has done.. The cities you burned in the name of progress. The cover-ups you buried beneath smiling spokesmen and caped hero ."
"Vought calls it 'necessary evil.' I call it a bloodstained boundary long since crossed. That's my answer."
Stan Edgar's face didn't change — not by much. But his eyes sharpened.
Kang Woo, meanwhile, lowered his gaze for a second.
Right… Makima's statement confirms it. Just like in the original Chainsaw Man world, and now in this fused reality — some concepts are just… gone..Nuclear weapons. Nazism. World War II. AIDS. Completely consumed by the Chainsaw Devil… Pochita. I haven't met Denji or his Pochita yet. Where the hell are they?
His thoughts were fleeting — pushed aside as he looked Stan Edgar dead in the eye.
"There you have it," Kang Woo said with a casual shrug. "Looks like you might overwork me to death. And I don't like that."
Stan, unfazed, offered a polite nod. "We all are necessary evil, Mister Kang Woo. With one exception. The Seven. They are the heroes. The ones who defend the world — whether it likes them or not."
Makima's eyes sharpened.
"Our ideals clearly clash," she said coldly. "And I have no interest in wasting time establishing 'understanding' between Vought and the Public Safety Devil Hunters."
"One of our citizens — someone I value — is being approached like property. It's only right I defend my soil as well."
Stan didn't move, but in his mind the implication hit with precision. I know what you meant, Makima. This one — Kang Woo — is yours. And I'm not getting him without a war. All right . I'll find another target.
With measured poise, Stan gave a light bow.
"Then I'll take my leave. Thank you for your time."
He looked toward Kang Woo, offering one last card.
"Don't forget, Mister Kang Woo — my offer still—"
A sonic boom shattered the air as a figure dropped from the clouds — slamming into the pavement in a superhero landing that dented the street.
Homelander. His cape fluttered. His eyes flared for a moment as he stood tall, scanning the area with that usual self-importance.
He didn't even register Makima. Nor Kang Woo. To him, they were just… background. A conductor. A woman. Irrelevant.
Stan Edgar's jaw twitched.
Homelander… you idiot. You just made the situation worse. This isn't what I planned.
Homelander, completely unaware turned his glowing eyes toward Makima. His voice rang with rehearsed righteousness.
"Lady," he said sharply, "The Seven exists to protect against global threats. And right now? You're looking like one."
He pointed a finger — not quite accusatory, but close.
"There was a devil attack at Sage Grove Center. Some lunatic shouting Sparda. And from what we've tracked, your country holds the largest number of devil contracts in the world. Shouldn't we be cooperating instead of flexing muscles?"
Madelyn Stillwell leaned closer to Stan Edgar, her voice low.
"Sir… this could be the opportunity to bring Japan into Vought International's control. If we play it right, we could turn this into a full-on asset acquisition."
Stan didn't take his eyes off the stage. His voice was a whisper, flat and sharp. "I would have done that. But not while that woman is still alive."
He nodded slightly toward Makima, who stood still beside Kang Woo,.
"You have zero information about her," Stan continued. ". Her name pops up in records, then vanishes. No one remembers speaking to her unless she lets them."
Stan exhaled quietly through his nose. "But it's too late now. We let Homelander be himself… and now we'll have to deal with the fallout."
The words hadn't even finished echoing in his head before
Kang Woo moved playful in that unnerving way only he could be. He turned to Homelander, smile tilted, voice light with mockery.
"The chemical plant story… yeah, that one sounds nice."
He paused dramatically, then recited with theatrical flair: 'They had a bomb. I covered it with my body, but the blast was too great. We searched the rubble. Sadly, we're the only survivors. I failed you. All of you.'
Kang Woo gave a soft, hollow laugh. "Great story. Touching. Really." "Only problem?" He stepped forward, each footfall echoing faintly against the plaza's stone. "The damage wasn't caused by a bomb. It was caused by a laser emission."
The words hit like a hammer. Homelander stiffened.
Kang Woo kept walking until they were nearly face to face. His crimson eyes bored straight into Homelander's Just knowing. "And if everyone's a necessary evil…" Kang Woo tilted his head slightly. "…then you and your Seven?"
He leaned in closer, voice now a whisper laced with venom.
"You're just necessary failures."
Stan Edgar felt the blood leave his face — just slightly.
I underestimated him, he thought grimly . He knows what we covered up with Black Noir..
Stan edgar glanced toward Makima — still calm, still unreadable — and for the first time in years, felt the chill of being prey.
Meanwhile, Homelander stood still, his smile twitching slightly. How? How does this low- orchestra freak know?
That incident was sealed. Vought spun the story. Noir backed me up..
Homelander's fists clenched at his sides. Rage replaced reason. With zero warning, Homelander launched forward like a missile. His fist, propelled by sonic speed, drove straight for Kang Woo's stomach to humiliate. To leave him coughing blood in the dirt. A perfect shot to make an example.
But— He hit nothing.
Kang Woo wasn't there. Not because he dodged late. Because he was never in that spot to begin with. Mach 100. He moved faster than sound, faster than Homelander could even register.
And in the very next instant— THWACK.
A phantom impact struck Homelander straight in the gut. From the side. An impossible angle. An impossible speed.
He dropped to his knees mid-sprint, skidding against the pavement, gagging violently. A thick stream of half-digested meat and beer hit the floor with a wet splash. He just puked up his dinner.
Kang Woo stood where Homelander had once faced him — one hand in his pocket, the other casually holding the conductor's baton like it was a scepter.
He leaned down a little, voice mockingly gentle.
"Oh no… oh no…" He pointed at the ground beside Homelander's face. "You looking for a puke down there?"
A hush spread across the street like frost.
Stan Edgar didn't speak. Madelyn didn't blink.
They both just stood there — paralyzed — with a singular thought threading through their minds.
There is someone stronger than Homelander. And we had no idea he existed.
Stan's pulse thudded in his ears. Devil contracts, he thought coldly. Makima. That's the only explanation. He's borrowing strength from her.. But if it's not just her… if the contract is with a primal devil…
He swallowed hard. Then it's not a political problem anymore . It's war. And our Supes will be decimated.
Stan Edgar moved a step forward, intent on taking control of the spiraling situation—only for Homelander to lurch upright with a growl, still winded but refusing to show weakness.
"That was a cheap shot," he spat, his voice rising. "I'm the real her—"
"ENOUGH!" Stan's voice cracked through the air like a whip.
Everyone froze. Even Homelander.
Stan's eyes blazed with the cold fury of a man whose empire was seconds from slowly turned his head toward Madelyn Stillwell, his expression unreadable… but his glare sharp enough to gut steel. Control him. Now.
Madelyn caught the message without a word. She gave the nod and immediately moved toward Homelander, placing a hand on his arm.
"Let's… take a breath," she said, voice low but urgent. "Come on."
Homelander nostrils flared. But he didn't protest. His pride had already taken the hit.
Meanwhile, Stan's gaze drifted outward—to the street. To the crowd. To the fifty thousand people who had gathered to hear a man conduct an orchestra… and ended up witnessing something impossible.
They just saw Homelander brought to his knees.. But by a stranger they've never heard of.
Stan's expression tightened.
Tomorrow, the press will be howling. Every screen. Every network. Every mouthpiece I thought I controlled. "Vought's strongest hero—humiliated." I'll have to answer questions I don't want asked. And the worst part? I don't even know what Kang Woo is.
Stan's expression hardened with each step, but his face wore its usual professionalism as he approached Makima. Behind the mask of calm calculation, his mind ran through exit strategies, press statements, and silencing protocols already being drafted by Vought's legal team.
She watched him come, arms loosely folded, expression unreadable as ever.
Stan gave a slight, respectful incline of his head.
"Forgive my personnel. He's… still young. Still learning restraint."
Makima didn't blink. "If you leave Japan within the hour,", "I'll let this slide."
Stan Edgar gave a thin smile. "Understood."
He reached into his coat and produced a folded check — handwritten, crisp, and deliberate. He held it out, letting her see the amount before speaking further.
"Ten million dollars," he said plainly. "Consider it a goodwill gesture. For silence… and future cooperation — should Vought and Public Safety ever find mutual interest."
Makima said nothing. She accepted the check between two fingers, her eyes not once leaving his.
Then, with quiet finality, she turned away from him — walking past like the matter was already over.
She walked toward Kang Woo at the center of the stage, her eyes scanning the edge of the plaza where the Vought high command was already pulling away. Madelyn stayed close to Homelander, whispering sharply to keep him from reacting further. The rest of the executives moved with quiet precision — swift, professional, but unmistakably retreating.