This was a peaceful world… or at least, it seemed that way on the surface.
On the bustling streets, salarymen hurried along, briefcases in hand, talking on their phones. Shopkeepers stepped outside their stores, loudly advertising to attract customers. Groups of energetic students gathered in clusters, laughing and sharing stories.
Skyscrapers loomed above, and the breeze that blew between them carried a faint chill.
But in truth, this world harbored a realm of mystery that ordinary people could never set foot in—
A shadow realm ruled by yōkai.
The sunlit land belonged to humans; the land shrouded in darkness belonged to yōkai. This was a law forged long, long ago—an agreement between onmyōji and the rulers of the yōkai: the mononoke, yōkai, and demons.
The existence of yōkai was a forbidden truth, completely unknown to the average person.
At least, that was how it was supposed to be…
In a narrow alleyway, a girl with long blue-and-black hair zigzagged through trash cans on an ice scooter, urgently calling back to the boy behind her.
"Rikou-sama! Who are those people? Have you seen them before?!"
"No… I don't know them at all!"
The boy, with tousled brown-and-black hair and round glasses, gave off the air of a mild-mannered honors student. He looked like the type who'd get good grades and agree to any favor his classmates asked.
But in a single moment, his demeanor shifted. Behind those glasses, his eyes turned sharp as blades.
"But… they know me. I heard one of them say something about 'a child of human and yōkai blood.'"
"…What?!"
The panic in the girl's eyes deepened.
His name was Nura Rikuo, heir to the largest yōkai syndicate in the Kantō region: the Nura Clan, third-generation leader.
His grandfather was none other than Nurarihyon, the original head of the clan—an ancient and powerful yōkai who became the supreme commander of the mononoke some 400 years ago.
And the girl? Her name was Oikawa Tsurara, a yuki-onna—a snow spirit who controlled ice and snow. She served as Rikuo's personal bodyguard, tasked with protecting him at all costs. By day, she posed as a classmate, commuting to and from school alongside him.
Rikuo's grandmother and mother were both human. That made him three-quarters human, one-quarter yōkai. In the daylight, he lived as a normal student; at night, he carried the blood of yōkai and walked among the shadows.
He never thought of this dual life as a burden. In fact, it was precisely to protect that peaceful, mundane life that he'd accepted his yōkai heritage and taken up the mantle of clan head—to maintain balance between the human and the hidden world.
To ordinary people, yōkai were nothing but folklore. No one could possibly suspect that Rikuo himself was one of them.
And yet—somehow, someone had found out.
"Now that I think about it… things felt off since this morning. Even Kiyotsugu rushed home after school, like he was running from something."
The shattering of his peaceful life left Rikuo uneasy. But a sharp, growing pain in his arm snapped him back to reality.
"Ugh… damn it! I think… I think it might be fractured. It's getting worse…"
"Rikou-sama! Please, hang in there!"
It had all happened so suddenly. Someone asked them for directions—and in the next instant, another person had come out of nowhere and swung a metal pipe at Rikuo's head. He'd barely managed to dodge, thanks to his superhuman reflexes, but his arm had taken the blow.
With only a quarter yōkai blood, Rikuo's yōkai strength didn't activate until nightfall. During the day, his body was still that of a human.
The alley's end was in sight. Tsurara, not daring to hesitate, accelerated on her ice scooter.
But in their experience with yōkai combat, they had overlooked one crucial factor:
Modern human weapons.
Bang!
A gunshot.
In an instant, the scooter beneath them shattered. The blast threw Rikuo and Tsurara violently onto the unforgiving pavement.
Rikuo scrambled to his feet, instinctively shielding Tsurara behind him. That's when he saw them—two fully armed soldiers stepping out of the shadows, casually conversing.
"Told you, partner. They'd come this way."
"Guess you were right. If they planned to shortcut to the station, this was the only path."
One of them cocked his rifle and said coldly, "Desperate people are always so predictable."
Camouflage uniforms. Bulletproof vests. Tactical gloves and boots. Gas masks. Not a single patch of skin was exposed.
"Nura Rikuo… for the sake of this country, we are here to execute you."
"…'This country'?"
Rikuo blinked, stunned. What did national security have to do with him?
All this time, he'd worked to keep the peace between the human and yōkai realms. If anything, shouldn't the country owe him?
"It's a prophecy," the soldier explained—perhaps out of pity, or simply to ease his own conscience. "From the Kudan."
"...The Kudan?"
Rikuo's eyes widened in disbelief.
The Kudan—a yōkai said to appear in Kyushu.
The character '件' is made up of 'human' on the left and 'cow' on the right. In Edo-period folklore, the Kudan had a human head and a bovine body. Its appearance foretold disaster, making it a harbinger of calamity.
In modern times, the legend shifted: the Kudan was said to be born from a cow's belly, capable of making one prophecy the moment it was born—before dying immediately after. And its prophecy would always come true.
Anyone who'd seen In/Spectre would recognize the Kudan. In that anime, the male protagonist gains the ability to foresee the future by consuming the Kudan's flesh—and becomes immortal after eating a mermaid, thus surviving the death usually triggered by the prophecy.
But in that story, the Kudan's ability wasn't just foresight—it was the power to reshape reality, cutting away all possible futures except the one it declared.
Rikuo had heard of the Kudan… but this? This had to be a mistake.
There was no time to dwell. More people were arriving—armed, malicious, and deadly serious.
"They're cornered…"
"Still breathing, huh?"
"Guess I'll be the one to finish them off."
Rikuo clenched his teeth. His principle—yōkai must not harm humans—was being ripped apart by the sheer malice in the air.
"Rikou-sama…"
"…Tsurara. Hold."
Rikuo couldn't bring himself to attack humans.
But Tsurara wasn't bound by the same restraint. For her, anyone who dared hurt her young master was a target to be eliminated.
And yet… she couldn't ignore his command. She understood the consequences: if they struck back, Rikuo might never be able to return to human society again.
Still… if things kept going like this…
"Hmmmmm… such a delightfully sweet scent. It's making my fingers itch."
The moment that voice rang out, the crowd's murderous intent was overwhelmed by a bone-deep chill.
Everyone turned, drawn by an unseen force, toward the source of the voice.
A single figure stood there—dripping in otherworldly strangeness from head to toe.
Red, black, and green robes draped over a slender frame. His hair was half-black, half-white. Eyes gleamed like polished obsidian. An eerily flawless smile played on his lips. His beauty was inhuman—too perfect to place, too alien to define.
"Fufufu… such a lively gathering. Forgive this humble monk for intruding, but I had a feeling something very entertaining was about to happen. Like a butterfly drawn to nectar, I just had to come. You know—like Lord Nikitch chasing me across the battlefield! Far more amusing than watching the Fantasy Trees bloom in Chaldea… Honestly, I was bored to death."
With narrowed eyes, Ashiya Douman sauntered forward, casually grabbing the closest person by the shoulder.
"So, may I ask what everyone's doing here?"
"…We're exterminating yōkai," the man replied nervously. He was one of the onlookers—too afraid to fight directly. "You haven't seen the 'Kudan Prophecy' going around online? It says the country is doomed unless we kill Nura Rikuo, the third heir of the Nura Clan—the child of a human and yōkai."
"That's insane!" Rikuo shouted, rising to his feet.
But a metal pipe slammed into the rebar behind him with a thunderous clang, cutting him off. The sheer force bent both pipe and steel.
These people were dead serious. They meant to kill.
"Stop pretending, monster! You dare walk among us as a human? Reveal your true form!"
"What… What are you talking about?! I am human!"
Another gunshot. This time, it came from behind.
The muzzle flashed. A bullet tore through the air at supersonic speed—headed straight for Rikuo's skull.
If it hit, his head would burst like fireworks in the sky.
But at that exact moment, a hand—one that couldn't possibly belong to a human—suddenly appeared behind Rikuo's head.
Smack!
Everyone froze.
Rikuo. Tsurara. Even the sniper in the distance.
"Fufufu… that did sting a little."
Ashiya Douman chuckled as he opened his palm. Nestled within was the crushed, deformed bullet.
Silence spread like poison. The sound of someone gulping echoed sharply.
"Did… did he just catch a bullet?"
"Are you kidding me? No one can do that!"
"That freak's a yōkai too! Why else would he help other yōkai?!"
One person's outcry turned into a flood. Now they weren't just targeting Rikuo and Tsurara—Ashiya Douman had joined their hate.
Is he really a yōkai? Rikuo wondered, stealing a glance at the man's profile. He sensed no yōkai aura. But there was no human presence either.
More than anything, when he looked directly at Dōman's face… a deep, instinctual fear rose in his gut, icing his limbs.
"Um… thank you. For saving me."
Gratitude had to be given, no matter what.
"Rikou-sama! Are you all right?!"
"I'm fine. You saw it, didn't you, Tsurara? That man stopped the bullet. You're too tense."
"I'm sorry, Rikou-sama… I'm supposed to be your protector, yet I let you face this danger…"
Tsurara's face twisted with guilt.
"Hey, you! What the hell do you think you're doing? Protecting yōkai?!"
The man with the pipe pointed it at Ashiya Douman, face twisted with rage. "What, are you one of them? Are you with those two freaks?!"
"Eh? A yōkai? Me?"
Dōman blinked innocently, then grinned—a razor-sharp smile that dripped cruelty.
"Oh, now that's so unfair. I could just cry—like, really cry. Wailing, sobbing, rivers of tears! Calling me a yōkai… what a dreadful misunderstanding. Truly, I'd be most distressed if you mistook me for such a vulgar species. Ohhhh, how troubled I am!"
As if a freezing rain had begun to pour, the moment Ashiya Douman spoke, a bone-deep chill cascaded over the crowd.
His form began to blur—like the mask of "human" was peeling away.
Something more terrible than a demon, more merciless than a yōkai, more monstrous than a beast, more twisted than a ghost… A nightmare that mocked all life, gods included.
"Why am I protecting this boy, you ask? Obviously—because it's fun."
Ashiya Douman smiled—a smile no human could ever make.
"He's the end of a nation. Isn't that fascinating? Isn't that thrilling? A hellish tapestry of screams, despair, and malice—just imagine what I'll witness if he survives! Ahhh, delightful! Truly, this humble monk is ecstatic! Fufufufufu!"
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[Ashiya Douman]
[Class]: Alter Ego
[Leve]l: 1
[Skills]: Ridicule Cat (EX), Black Life (A), Curse of Douman (A++)
[Class Skills]: Territory Creation (B), Item Construction (A), Magic Resistance (A), Divine Core of Darkness (B), High Servant (A), Hedonism (EX)
[Stats]: Strength (C), Endurance (D), Agility (E), Mana (EX), Luck (B), Noble Phantasm (B)
[Noble Phantasm]:Mad Maelstrom - Akuryou Safu!! (B)
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T/N: BRO GOT A LEVEL 1 SERVANT LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, also why ashiya douman kinda.... mmmmhg