Narrator POV.
—By the way… —Isagi smiled slightly, like someone already imagining the deposit hitting his bank account— is there any extra bonus for bringing one of those bullets?
There was something almost professional in his expression. The grindset blood ran strong in him. Isagi didn't do jobs for free. Sure, he'd received a reward from the System… but that was for killing the devil.
Not for recovering a Gun Devil fragment. That was additional logistics. Makima tilted her head slightly.
—Huh? —She took a second to think, even though it was obvious she already knew the answer. —Technically, no. Searching for Gun Devil flesh fragments is part of Public Safety's work. That's why the salary is so high.
Something broke inside Isagi's mind. An imaginary sound, like glass shattering in slow motion. His hopes.
—So what's the point… —he muttered, bringing a hand to his forehead. —I spent all my money on horse betting and boat races. At least I already set some aside for eggs and creatine.
He did some quick mental calculations. He couldn't fail his eight eggs every morning. Priorities existed.
Makima watched him with unshakable patience, like she was looking at a child complaining about the price of a toy.
—Well, I appreciate your report, Isagi. If you'd like, you may leave now. —She gave him a slight nod. Formal. Clear. Permission granted.
The conversation was over. Or at least, it seemed that way.
—And why exactly do I have to leave? Did you forget already? —A slow smile began to form on Isagi's lips. It wasn't arrogant. It was intentional. —I said I'd try to get along with you… so I'm going to stay a while and keep you company.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was dense.
Makima didn't change her expression. Her face remained calm, perfectly composed. Her golden eyes watched him with the same calculated serenity as always.
Normally, Isagi would've taken the first opportunity to escape that office. But now…He stayed. And he did it by choice. That alone slightly shifted the invisible balance between them.
Makima didn't say anything. She just stared at him, as if measuring how much he'd truly changed.
—You want to keep me company? —Makima asked slowly. There was faint curiosity in her tone. The fact that Isagi chose to stay willingly instead of running like he usually did was… unexpected. —I thought the whole "trying to be my friend" thing, and the hug, were just something you said and did in the moment.
Isagi raised an eyebrow.
—Wow. That's a lot of doubt. What makes you distrust me? —he asked with a slight crooked smile.
Makima didn't look away.
—The fact that you only move when there's a reward involved. You constantly talk about "Chamba" and being the highest quality worker.
She said it completely naturally. The comment hit. Isagi visibly deflated, like a small dark depression cloud formed above his head.
—So you guys see me as some kind of predator who only moves when he smells blood? —he muttered quietly, almost offended.
He couldn't deny that he'd used his "shark mindset" plenty of times in that ocean full of opportunities.
Makima nodded slightly.
Indeed, she had reached the conclusion that Isagi had no motivation beyond money and rewards.
—Damn… I turned out just like my father… —Isagi lightly slapped his cheeks a couple of times, like he was trying to revive himself. —I have a life too, damn it. But I'm getting off topic.
He stood up and, without asking permission, walked around Makima's desk. His steps were calm, deliberate. He stopped beside her and sat down naturally, slightly invading her personal space.
—So yeah. You're gonna have to put up with me for the next hour.
.
.
.
.
Silence fell between them.
Heavy.
Makima didn't move. She didn't lean away. She showed no discomfort at all. She simply waited, watching him from the corner of her eye, as if analyzing what his next move would be.
Isagi, on the other hand, crossed his arms.
—So… you're not gonna say anything?
Makima blinked a couple of times at the question. A small smile appeared on her lips before she answered.
—You're the one who wants to spend time with me, —she replied softly. —So you should start the conversation.
And there it was again. The ball, once again, on Isagi's side of the court.
—You've gotta be kidding me!
Isagi practically sank into his seat and covered his eyes with his forearm, as if the light of the world was too much for him.
Maybe he hadn't thought this through.
He was antisocial in every sense of the word. In his past life, leaving the house was already an extraordinary event: buy bread, go to the store… and come back as fast as possible.
He preferred being alone, playing videogames, and avoiding unnecessary conversations.
This… This was enemy territory.
—What am I even supposed to say? —he muttered heavily, dropping his arm. —Like… bro, I don't have friends. It's a miracle I can even tolerate Denji and Power.
And it wasn't an exaggeration.
His ability to socialize was limited, and on top of that, he was trying to "get closer" to the most complicated person in the entire building.
A soft laugh escaped Makima. It wasn't mocking. It was… amused.
—So you want to get closer to me, —she said, resting her head on her hand as she looked at him with genuine interest— even though you don't know how to socialize?
Isagi pulled his arm away from his face and looked straight at her. He closed his eyes, and a stylized, almost cartoonish vein seemed to pop on his forehead.
—Mmmm…
He pressed his lips into a thin line.
And besides, Makima wasn't exactly easy to deal with. She wasn't like talking to some random coworker.
How the hell do you get close to the Control Devil when she has an almost religious obsession with the Hero of Hell?
When her idea of affection looks more like possession than love?
When what she really likes is dogs… and submission? The challenge was ridiculous.
—(I got forced to tryhard on legendary difficulty…) —he thought, narrowing his eyes.
Winning Makima over seemed difficult. Not to mention impossible. He'd have to use all his IQ. And everything he knew about her. He glanced at her. She was still calm. Watching him. Waiting.
As if she already knew the real show was only just beginning.
A lightbulb went off in his head. A brilliant idea—or at least, that's what he wanted to believe—appeared in his mind.
He would use the old reliable.
—What's your favorite horror movie? —he asked suddenly.
He went silent for half a second.
—No, wait… that sounds like we're in Scream. —He shook his head, correcting himself. —Do you like movies, Makima?
She didn't react immediately. She kept organizing some papers with near-millimeter precision before answering.
—There are very few true horror films nowadays. —Her tone was neutral. —Most so-called "horror movies" are just people killing other people. —She slid one sheet over another, aligning them perfectly. —The government banned productions involving creatures or concepts that could lead to the birth of new devils.
Isagi blinked. That made… way too much sense.
—And yes, —she continued— I like watching movies. Even though most of them are bad. Only one out of ten truly manages to entertain me.
Isagi swallowed.
—(Holy shit… how screwed would this world be if all the horror movies from my world existed here?)
The thought crept dangerously into his mind… and he immediately discarded it.
---
End of the chapter.