Nightfall, Sumida Ward, Tokyo.
Under a thick, oppressive blanket of clouds, the golden spire of the Tokyo Skytree—towering 634 meters—pierced the night sky like a blazing sword ready to cleave the heavens.
At its peak, a fierce wind howled, carrying the rustle of burger wrappers and the soft muttering of a boy.
"Ugh… Rias said the target would appear between five and eight, but it's already past seven. Couldn't they have been a bit more precise? I've been waiting over two hours… hungry as hell. Guess I'll eat first…"
He took a bite from the double cheeseburger he'd bought from the shopping street below two hours ago. But in his dark, thoughtful eyes, the dazzling city lights of Tokyo reflected not the glittering skyline, but something far off: a pitch-black, abandoned harbor.
Before he could fully chew, his brow twitched—finally catching sight of something unusual in the distance. With a slightly annoyed tsk, he muttered,
"Speak of the devil… couldn't they let me eat in peace first?"
With that, he stepped forward, merging seamlessly into the wind. In an instant, his figure dissolved into the night.
Meanwhile, at the abandoned harbor, waves crashed relentlessly against the docks. The inky water mirrored the distant lights of the Skytree.
Suddenly, the glare of headlights cut through the darkness. Four black Tiger-head sedans weaved in parallel along the port road, taking the curve toward the docks at sixty miles per hour before screeching to a halt.
All doors opened simultaneously, interior lights illuminating sixteen men in black suits, sunglasses in place, who stepped out in perfect unison. The scene resembled a stereotypical mafia deal.
"Finally… you've kept us waiting long enough," a rough voice called out—not from any of the sixteen men, not even from the dock—but from the water itself.
Under the scattered beams from the sedans, a speedboat floated quietly by the dock. Reclining inside was a towering, muscular man over two meters tall, hair and beard bristling, legs crossed, hands behind his head. Behind him lay a locked suitcase serving as a makeshift pillow.
He didn't open his eyes fully until he noticed the activity onshore. Slowly, he blinked, revealing almond-shaped eyes of deep, haunting green.
Without a word, the wolf-eyed giant flipped upright, grabbed the suitcase, and stepped onto the dock, placing it firmly before the suited men. The soft thud made all the bodyguards instinctively take a half-step back.
"This is what you wanted. And the money?"
"Here… it's right here…"
After a tense moment of silence, one brave bodyguard stepped forward, placing his suitcase of cash on a car hood and pushing it toward the wolf-eyed man.
"Mm." The wolf-eyed man opened it briefly. Inside were neat stacks of ten-thousand-yen bills. Satisfied there was no counterfeit, he closed the case and pushed the suitcase he had brought toward them.
"All right… deal done, I suppose—"
"Ciallo~! You're leaving so soon?"
Before he could finish, a faint sound of footsteps echoed from the alley between the dock warehouses. A voice—unclear, tinged with a Kyoto accent—followed.
"Who's there?!"
"What's that?!"
Like sudden thunder on a calm plain, all sixteen bodyguards spun toward the sound, hands instinctively raising pistols. Tactical flashlights on their guns illuminated the intruder.
Standing there was a boy of seventeen or eighteen, tall but lean, dressed casually as if just leaving the gym. Half a burger hung in his hand, his cheeks puffed slightly with the bite he hadn't swallowed yet.
"Hanakaiin Tomitaka, acting head of the Hanakaiin family—one of Kyoto's three great Onmyoji houses. I handle all exorcisms and supernatural jobs for high-value clients. My personal number is 185… oh, sorry, habit of over-advertising. Let's skip the rest."
He recited the lines like a forced ad, devoid of real feeling, then took another bite of his burger. With his other hand, he waved the remaining half toward the stunned men.
"All right, back to business. Everyone else can leave, but the goods stay. And you—the wolf-eyed rogue—come with me. Carry my two boxes, please; I can't hold them while eating. Cooperate, and I'll have Rias handle your return to the demon realm… more gently than usual. Next time you visit the human world, follow the official procedure, register at the Demon District first. Thank you."
With a casual wave, the boy reassigned ownership of the boxes in a few words.
But this wasn't a heroic fantasy. Reality wouldn't bend just because of his swagger. The bodyguards knew their employer's brutality: fail to deliver the goods intact, and the penalty was… death.
Silence fell. Tension spiked.
"Baka!"
One guard cursed and fired. Instantly, all sixteen guns erupted. Though semi-automatic, the volley's density rivaled submachine gun fire.
"Ugh… overtime pain again…"
Ignoring the bullets raining down, the boy muttered, then swallowed the rest of his burger.
Golden spiritual pressure flared around him, coalescing into a tangible aura. The burger wrapper disintegrated into ash mid-air. Bullets approaching him melted into molten iron, then vaporized entirely.
Step by step, Hanakaiin Tomitaka advanced, his spiritual aura intensifying. Roads beneath him remained untouched—no scorching, no softening.
The wolf-eyed man's eyes twitched; sweat ran freely down his forehead.
This level of spiritual power… an Onmyoji? At this rank?
He considered his options. As a rogue demon, his physical strength gave him a natural advantage over humans. He could flee and still maintain an edge…
But he wouldn't surrender. Being sent back to the demon realm meant returning to a life under someone else's thumb. Unthinkable.
No fight, no surrender… only one choice remained: run.
Suddenly, the boy's phone buzzed.
"Huh?"
Hanakaiin Tomitaka frowned, reaching into his pocket. The message wasn't from Rias or Akeno, but another sender:
[I've been home for a while, meow~ Hanakaiin, where are you at this hour, meow? 🐾]
He switched to voice input:
"Yeah, I'm still out. Back in about fifteen minutes. The big delivery box in the living room? That's the new TV—don't touch it. You broke the last one…"
Opportunity! The wolf-eyed demon's eyes flared.
"Move!"
He leapt forward, slapping away bodyguards and revealing his true form: a massive, snarling werewolf over four meters tall. Muscles bulged, claws extended, and he crushed a car roof underfoot.
Before he could act further, a golden finger, aflame with spiritual pressure, touched his forehead. Instantly, his body froze.
"Still human, huh?" The boy's voice drifted from above.
Then, an enormous surge of golden spiritual energy erupted, coalescing into a mountain-sized golden lotus over the abandoned harbor—shattering the night with divine brilliance.