Narrator POV.
The next morning…
Isagi was sitting at the dining table. In front of him sat an empty coffee cup, with only dried residue at the bottom—clear proof that he'd been awake far too long. His eyes were half-lidded as he held a small book in his hands.
One of those famous little books written by Jiraiya: Icha Icha. He'd always wondered what the hell was so good about it… and how he'd even gotten it. Easy: one of the System's random item boxes had just dropped it on him for no reason.
He hadn't slept all night; the pain caused by the T-Virus had been unbearable, like being set on fire from the inside. Aside from that, everything was relatively calm. Except for his mood.
—If I'd known that shit was going to hurt this much, I wouldn't have injected it —he growled under his breath.— I swear, whoever pisses me off today is getting their face rearranged.
With one sharp movement, he threw the book onto the table. The dull thud echoed through the room. He didn't like it. It felt boring. Lifeless. Maybe he just wasn't into reading… or maybe he just couldn't stand romance or sexual stories. Either way, Isagi had no intention of continuing that crap.
He stood up heavily, stretching his arms over his head as he walked toward the door. His bones cracked one by one, as if they too were protesting the sleepless night.
Work didn't wait for anyone—and for now, Isagi lived for work. He still had to keep training; those stat points were way too useful to ignore.
—Time to work.
With that, he left his house. He walked along the sidewalk as the cool morning breeze hit his face. The sun was just starting to rise over the buildings, yet there were already plenty of people outside, and the city noise roared as if it were midday.
Well… Japan being as hyperactive as always.
.
.
.
.
Minutes later…
Isagi was standing in Makima's office, next to Aki, who maintained his usual impeccable posture: back straight, shoulders firm, hands clasped behind him like he'd been born to work in a bureaucratic office.
Denji, on the other hand, was slouched over, wearing that idiotic expression only he could pull off, staring straight at Makima's chest as if he were in some kind of mystical trance. He looked like he was astral projecting… straight into the valley of impure thoughts.
Isagi, meanwhile, had his hands shoved into his pockets, eyes half-closed, and an expression that made it painfully clear he was not happy about standing around doing absolutely nothing useful.
—Her melons! —Denji suddenly shouted, raising a fist as if he'd just made a Nobel Prize–worthy scientific discovery, even though he'd been on autopilot a second ago.
Makima gently tilted her head, unsettlingly calm.
—Are you hungry? —she asked, as if she genuinely thought Denji was talking about food and not… well, exactly what everyone knew he meant.
Isagi frowned slightly.
(Is she stupid, or is she pretending? Even half-asleep I could tell Denji was staring at her chest… Then again, maybe she noticed and this is all part of her plan. This woman is terrifying.) —Isagi thought. His exhaustion and bad mood were messing with his mental filter; now he even had the guts to insult Makima… at least in his head.
—Enough, idiot, let her finish —Aki muttered under his breath, clearly irritated by Denji's disrespect.
—Denji. Isagi. —Makima called their attention with a soft but firm tone.— From now on, you'll have a new partner.
—Partner? —Denji repeated, not sounding particularly thrilled.
—In Public Safety, small-scale missions and patrols are done in pairs —Makima explained, answering a question Denji hadn't even properly asked.
—Great! —Isagi clapped once, keeping his hands together and flashing a small smile as he spotted his chance to bail.— If that's the case, I've got nothing to do here. That'd make three of us, and you know what they say—three's a crowd.
He turned halfway around, more than ready to vanish from the office before they dragged him into something annoying.
—Yes, about that. You're the most responsible after Aki, so you'll be in charge. —Makima said with a faint smile that froze Isagi in place.— Be careful. She's a fiend… and she'll definitely like you.
Makima's smile widened just a fraction, but that tiny gesture was enough to make something crawl up Isagi's spine. It felt like Makima could smell him—taste him, even. His Marechi blood—the kind he'd obtained thanks to Sanemi Shinazugawa's trait—gave off such a strong, exquisite, tempting scent that it seemed to fill the air like forbidden perfume.
(Oh, shit.) —Isagi thought, a chill running down his spine. He knew perfectly well that to demons, his blood was basically a neon sign screaming: "I'm delicious, eat me alive."
While his survival instincts seriously suggested throwing himself out the nearest window to escape any horny fiend, heavy, confident footsteps echoed through the hallway. The sound caught Aki's and Denji's attention as they turned toward the door just as the steps stopped in front of it.
BAM!
The door burst open as if someone had kicked it with all their might, revealing a figure overflowing with confidence, presence, and an almost artistic level of arrogance.
—HEY HEY HEY! BOW BEFORE ME, HUMANS! —the newcomer shouted, stomping the floor while striking an exaggerated pose straight out of a comedy manga.— My name is Power! Which one of you insignificant humans will be my partner?!
Power was a young woman… or something close to one. Her reddish-blonde hair fell in waves down to the middle of her back, and two pale red horns jutted boldly from the top of her head.
Her eyes—red and yellow in a cross-like pattern—gave her a wild, unpredictable gaze, and her sharp teeth, complete with prominent fangs, made it clear she wasn't someone to mess with.
She wore the standard Public Safety Devil Hunter uniform: white shirt, tie, and pants… though her jacket hung halfway off her body, as if she'd tried to put it on during an earthquake.
Her appearance was messy, chaotic, completely careless… very fitting for Power, the self-proclaimed goddess.
With a completely deadpan expression, Isagi simply extended his arm and shoved Denji forward. Technically, Makima had said he was in charge after Aki—but today, Isagi wasn't in the mood to exercise authority. No patience. Just a desire to leave.
—Power?! Your name is Power and you're a fiend?! Fiends can be Devil Hunters?! —Denji shouted, sounding equal parts shocked and offended.
However, all that "anger" evaporated the moment his gaze dropped just a few centimeters toward her chest. His expression instantly turned into that of a friendly dachshund staring at a steak.
—Of course! I'll be your partner! Nice to work with you!
Power completely ignored him. Her nose twitched like a wild animal's as an indescribably intoxicating scent reached her. For a Blood Devil like her, it was impossible to ignore—thick, sweet, powerful… a forbidden delicacy.
It was Isagi's Marechi blood.
Without realizing it, Power slowly turned her head toward him. Her red eyes widened slightly, pupils dilating as if she'd just spotted her favorite food after weeks of starvation. A crooked smile spread across her face, exposing her sharp fangs.
—Human… —Power growled hoarsely, almost drooling, as if standing before an irresistible feast.
She took a step forward, shoulders trembling with savage excitement. Her smile was that of a predator that had finally found its prey.
—Come here… so the Great Power can eat you!
Isagi's danger sense activated instantly—that sharp instinct he'd developed thanks to the System and his acquired abilities. His body reacted before his mind even processed the threat.
In a quick, almost blurry motion, Isagi stepped back and spun on his heel.
A second later, Power lunged like a starving beast, arms outstretched, fangs bared… and slammed straight into the spot where he'd been a blink earlier.
That didn't stop her. Not even close.
Power got back up with a frenzied grin, hair wild over her face, eyes glowing with murderous desire. She stared at Isagi like a premium cut of meat served on a silver platter.
Makima watched the scene with a small, calm smile, as if she weren't witnessing a demon trying to eat one of her subordinates alive.
She'd expected this reaction. Isagi's scent—his Marechi blood—was far too tempting for any demon with a sense of smell.
—Did this crazy chick lose a screw or what? —Denji asked, completely confused and a little fascinated,
watching Power chase Isagi all over the office while he dodged like his life depended on it.
Which it did.
—the possessed be exterminated just like ordinary devils —Makima explained calmly as she turned to look Denji straight in the eyes.— But Power possesses a high level of reasoning. That's why I integrated her into the Hayakawa Unit. The Fourth Special Anti-Devil Division is an experimental unit… still in its testing phase. Power gets excited by the smell of blood, so it seems Isagi is extremely attractive to her.
Makima finished her explanation just as Power lunged again in another murderous leap, completely ignoring Makima's presence—which was saying something. It was as if her entire world had narrowed down to a single goal: catching Isagi, authority, logic, and common sense be damned.
Isagi, meanwhile, was reevaluating his entire life while dodging a demon who basically wanted to drink him like a luxury soda.
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End of the chapter.