"How the hell did you get in here?" Altair rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
"Your security sucks, buddy," the man was sitting across from him, relaxed with a soda in his hand, as if breaking into people's homes was his daily routine. "It's just that you didn't return my call. You know, you got the job," he said enthusiastically.
"Never mind. The work environment isn't right for me," he said, referring to the ex-exorcist who had tried to kill him.
"Oh, yeah. Well, oops!" he shrugged. "Look, I can't change the past, but I can change the future. I'll give you money, sacred gears, and women. I'll even take you to Black Dog, a nightclub. You'll see, there's a waitress with two big melons..." He gestured with his hands.
Altair wondered how big the breasts must be for a thousand-year-old being to seem so depraved by them.
"Your haircut is ridiculous. Two colors, seriously?" he said.
The man, Azazel, clenched the can in his hand.
"Brat..."
"Do the devils know you're here?" Altair asked.
"No, but they won't be long in finding out," Azazel said. "Before that—"
"The offer isn't attractive enough. There's racism in your company," he said jokingly. But it wasn't a lie.
Gregori was primarily composed of fallen angels. Even if Azazel gave him an attractive enough offer, he would hardly accept it. He wasn't one of them. At any moment, they could turn against him simply because their races were mortal enemies.
"Yes, but... you're not a nig-"
"I still refuse," he interrupted.
"We've started with the left foot."
"I'm left-handed," he interrupted again. ***
Azazel was speechless for a moment. He took a device out of his pocket. It was shaped like a torch, although smaller. It was golden, though it looked corrupted.
"Here. Take it as a sign of sincerity," Altair didn't take it. "Weren't you interested in the sacred gears?" he asked.
Altair frowned. With Azazel giving it to him, that would mean leaving the door open. He could say it was just curiosity that moved his hand toward the artifact. He didn't touch it; he wasn't that stupid. He let his magic recognize it. He had begun to play with his magic to recognize others. He wasn't an expert, by any means, not at the level of Dumbledore or Lily.
"Sacred gear," he whispered. He frowned as he thought of the poor fool who had been robbed of his sacred gear. "Is it customary for Grigori to take sacred gears by force?" he asked, wanting to see Azazel's reaction.
"This one is artificial, created by me. It imitates Incinerate Anthem, did you know it?" Azazel did not answer directly.
"What does it do?"
"It summons sacred flames. At least the original does. This one summons powerful flames, but they're not holy, ha!" It was a poor version compared to the original.
"You give me your defective versions. How kind," said Altair.
He lifted it with a wave of his hand, intending to study it.
"It's functional, but not completely. They say you're an intelligent man. I want that mind. The devils are powerful, and they will give you resources for your research. But they will not fully understand the science you pursue, that we pursue," Azazel was serious. "You'll be fine in Grigori, I can assure you. That sacred gear, although functional, is not the best I can give you. Just study it. The devils cannot offer you what I offer you: knowledge," he finished. Silence remained for a few moments as Altair inspected the artifact.
"I have a contract with the devils. I am one of them." He refused again, but Azazel had honestly tempted him. Altair had asked Serafall about Ajuka, but received no answer other than "Oh, he's busy."
He couldn't play between the two factions without consequences.
"Very well. I will respect your decision. But I'm sure I can show you the best pair of boobs in the supernatural world," he said, handing him a card with his contact information on it.
He disappeared a few seconds before another circle appeared in the house.
"Ah, Sera-chan," the Maou had forced him to call her by that name.
When a being overwhelmingly more powerful than you asks you to call them "-chan," how can you refuse?
"Altair-chan!" she greeted him cheerfully. She was dressed like a magical girl. "I smell crows," she said, looking at him as if asking for an explanation.
Altair raised the artificial sacred gear. Serafall understood everything immediately.
"Azazel-chan was here, ha," she said, looking at him with a smile.
She seemed happy, but she was tense.
"I rejected him. My dealings with the devils are, for the most part, satisfactory."
Only Riser and Grayfia had been missteps for him.
"You know, Altair-chan, if you become my queen, Riser will back down," She said. He opened his eyes at her offer.
One of the surprising things about Maou Leviathan was that she only had one member in her nobility, Behemoth. Everyone thought he was her queen, but from what she was saying now, he had to be a rook or bishop.
Altair considered the offer. It was tempting, but it also had long-term consequences. It would make him a servant and put him under Serafall's control. Disobeying her orders would be seen as treason, and he would become a stray devil.
"I need to think about it," he said, making her smile cheerfully.
Altair felt that the devils were trying to please him more than they should.
He couldn't blame them. Only Phoenix Dust made him extremely valuable to them. That Serafall herself is trying to recruit him into her nobility means that they are trying to bind him more immediately to the devil faction.
Rias and Akeno confessed that they had been tasked with convincing him to stay in Japan.
But Altair had unfinished business in Great Britain. Voldemort was the main one. Although he considered staying in Japan, Lavender looked incredible in the Kuoh uniform.
"Whatever Azazel can offer, Miracle Levia-tan can give more," she said, striking that silly pose where she made the peace sign and her breasts bounced like two jelly beans.
"Azazel offered me the best pair of breasts I've ever seen," he regretted as soon as he said the words.
Levia-tan's smile froze as she heard him. The girl stood still, as if someone had paused her television show.
She left.
'Ah, how stupid,' he thought.
He received a photo seconds later. It was of a woman with brown hair and white skin. Her eyes were warm and lilac. She looked tired. The women looked too much like Rias; all you had to do was change her colors to make them look like the same person.
The woman was in an onsen, her breasts floating on the water. Inverted nipples. He didn't know who she was, but the size of her breasts stood out above Akeno's, the largest he had ever seen.
"But I wanted Serafall's," he said quietly.
If he wanted to see breasts, he could look for pornography. Seeing the tits of a stranger didn't do anything for him. Although the fact that she was probably Rias' mother made it a little enjoyable.
"Duh, you could have said so," he heard Serafall's childish voice.
'I screwed up twice,' he thought, closing his eyes and preparing to die.
Instead, when he opened his eyes, he looked at the Maou's two naked breasts. Her nipples were light brown, reminding him of the coffee with milk that Azalea liked.
Then she struck that strange pose.
Altair's eyes followed the path of her nipples in the air. Altair wouldn't say it openly. But knowing that the devils valued him so much that one of their leaders was showing him her tits so brazenly was an indelible stroke to his ego. The vision lasted a few seconds while Serafall posed in front of him, allowing him to see them from various angles.
She seemed amused.
"Nah, ah, not so fast, malefactor," she said, shaking her finger while continuing to smile.
Altair had taken a single step toward her. That seemed to be the limit for this encounter.
"I'll get Sona dressed up as a magical girl, remember?"
She put her finger on her chin, as if thinking deeply. Finally, she shook her head.
"We can discuss it after you get the photo," she said. She put her magic girl outfit back on after giving him one last spin. "Dinner is tomorrow. Bye-bye, Al~tair-chan," she struck her magic girl pose and disappeared.
Altair lay down on the sofa and covered his face.
He wondered if he was a man with no luck or a lot of it.
Serafall had shown him a little, not enough to satisfy him, she knew. He knew it too. She wanted to keep him waiting and was using her body to do so.
Finally, his cell phone vibrated again—a message from Azazel this time, a photo.
"Merlin... they're huge," he said in surprise when he saw the photo of the waitress.
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***Note: In Spanish, "To start with the left foot." Means or translates as "to start on the wrong foot." The joke doesn't make sense in English if I change the translation, so I left it as is.