Night, Sumida Ward, Tokyo.
Under the heavy dark clouds, the towering 634-meter Tokyo Skytree stabbed into the sky like a golden spear, gleaming with light, a sword ready to split the heavens apart.
At its peak, battered by violent winds, the only other sound was the crinkling of hamburger wrappers—and the low muttering of a boy.
"Seriously... Rias said the target would show up between five and eight, but it's already past seven. Would it kill them to give better intel? I've been freezing my butt off here for over two hours. Whatever, might as well eat first."
Grumbling, Hanakaiin Fuku took a big bite out of a cold double beef burger he had grabbed from a food stall two hours earlier. His dark eyes weren't watching the glittering skyline of Tokyo, though.
No. His gaze was fixed far beyond—on the abandoned, silent waterfront across the city.
Before he could even enjoy his bite, Fuku's expression sharpened. A flash of movement caught in the corner of his vision made him click his tongue in annoyance.
"Of course. Just when I'm about to eat, huh?"
Sighing, he melted into the howling wind, his figure vanishing from the top of the Skytree as though absorbed into the night.
---
At the deserted docks, waves slapped rhythmically against the battered concrete, and the distant light from the Skytree reflected in the oily black water.
Headlights tore across the darkness—four black Mercedes-Benz sedans sped down the port road before skidding to a stop near the docks.
The doors flung open in perfect unison. Sixteen men in sharp black suits and sunglasses filed out, moving with trained, mechanical precision under the dim interior lights. They looked more like a Yakuza deal than anything else.
A gravelly voice, rough and casual, echoed from the water.
"Took you long enough... I've been waiting."
The voice wasn't from the suited men. It came from the bay itself.
Under the faint scattered beams of light, a small speedboat floated silently offshore. A towering figure lounged there—over two meters tall, burly, with wild, unkempt hair and a scraggly beard. His arms were folded behind his head, and his only pillow was a locked briefcase.
Not bothering to move until the last man had exited the cars, the wolfish-eyed man finally sat up. His dark green pupils gleamed dangerously as he rolled out of the boat, seized the briefcase, and strolled onto the dock.
Without a word, he thumped the briefcase onto the hood of one of the cars. The solid, heavy sound made the surrounding men unconsciously tense up.
"I brought what you asked for. Where's the payment?"
One bodyguard stepped forward after a tense pause, nervously placing a matching briefcase atop the nearest hood and nudging it forward.
The man grunted, flipped the case open, and inspected the neat stacks of yen. Satisfied, he closed it with a snap, shoved his own case forward, and straightened up.
"Deal's done. Later."
"Hey~ Leaving already? That's rude, don't you think?"
The teasing voice came not from the men nor the towering figure—but from the shadows between the warehouses, accompanied by casual footsteps.
"Who's there?!"
Sixteen pistols were drawn instantly, beams of tactical flashlights slicing through the night to spotlight a single figure.
A boy, around seventeen or eighteen, stood there casually in gym clothes, one hand holding a half-eaten burger. His handsome face was puffed slightly from the food still in his mouth, and his black hair tousled lazily by the wind.
"Hanakaiin Fuku," he said without urgency, "current acting head of the Hanakaiin Clan. We take on exorcisms for high-net-worth clients. Business inquiries welcome... ah, force of habit. Forget the number."
He chuckled dryly, raised the remaining burger in salute, and continued casually.
"Anyway, here's the deal. You boys can walk away—but you're leaving the goods behind. As for the stray mutt over there," he jerked his chin at the towering man, "you're coming with me. Oh, and carry the briefcases for me, will you? I'm still eating. Cooperate nicely, and maybe Rias will arrange for a peaceful return trip to the Underworld. Next time, get a proper visa before sneaking into the Human World, alright?"
It was a declaration, not a negotiation.
The bodyguards stiffened. They understood exactly what failure meant when it came to their employer's "business."
Death.
The air grew heavy, charged with unspoken violence.
"Idiot!"
The gunfire erupted all at once. Sixteen pistols roared together, a barrage of bullets more like a hailstorm than a firefight.
Fuku sighed.
"Guess I'm pulling overtime…"
Ignoring the oncoming rain of death, he shoved the rest of the burger into his mouth.
In the next instant, golden spiritual power flared to life around him, crackling like a living flame.
The hamburger wrapper in his hand vaporized into dust—and so did the bullets.
Had a camera filmed the moment in slow motion, it would have caught every round melting into molten droplets, then evaporating into the air before even touching him.
Step by slow step, Hanakaiin Fuku advanced. The spiritual pressure radiating from his body thickened, suffocating.
Yet the asphalt beneath his feet remained perfectly untouched.
Across the dock, the wolf-eyed man's face twitched, sweat soaking through his thick beard.
That wasn't the strength of any normal Onmyouji.
He couldn't win this. Not head-on. Not even close.
But surrender?
No way. Being dragged back to the Underworld meant a life of miserable servitude.
There was only one option left.
Run.
As a wolf devil, his speed was unmatched.
Buzz.
A vibration broke the tension. Fuku frowned and fished his phone from his pocket.
A new message popped up:
[Kuroka: "Nya~ you're still not home, Fuku? I'm lonely!"]
He snorted, switching to voice input.
"Still outside. Back in fifteen minutes. And don't touch the big box in the living room—it's a new TV. Last time you broke one."
The devil's chance was now.
With a roar, the wolf demon shoved aside the nearest bodyguard, tearing his human disguise apart. In an instant, he transformed—growing fur, muscle, and a monstrous lupine face.
Standing nearly four meters tall, the werewolf snatched the suitcase and sprang for the rooftops.
Or he tried.
Golden spiritual energy slammed down on him like the hand of a god.
Frozen in midair, he could only watch, helpless, as Fuku appeared before him, one hand casually raised.
"What's your plan now, mutt?"
Without waiting for an answer, Fuku unleashed his full power.
The dock shook violently as a colossal golden lotus materialized above them, filling the sky with blinding light—
And crashed down.