Time slipped by, and soon two hours had passed.
After tidying the room, Shoko took some cash to buy ingredients and whipped up a plate of mapo tofu, setting it on the table.
"How's the taste?"
"Pretty average."
Roy set down his chopsticks with a critique. "Seasoning's a bit off, and the spicy kick isn't bold enough."
"…Sorry, my skills are lacking."
Shoko bit her lip, bowing her head in apology.
As a former pampered heiress, she'd never lifted a finger in the kitchen before. This mapo tofu was something she'd only learned in the past few months—cheap, practical, and a good rotation with fried rice to keep things from getting stale.
"Relax, I'm not firing you."
Roy pulled out a bank card. "You seem strapped for cash. Interested in a side gig?"
"What kind of gig?"
Shoko asked warily, ready to bolt if Roy said anything sketchy.
But then, a scene that shattered her worldview unfolded.
A pair of black wings unfurled from Roy's back, and crimson flames flared in his hand.
"Let me introduce myself properly—I'm a devil."
"…Can I still quit?"
Roy chuckled. "Sure, but I'd have to wipe your memory."
Shoko's face stiffened. "Let's hear about the side gig first."
"Take my power, train under my guidance, and get stronger."
Roy slid the card forward. "Ten million yen in here."
"The stronger you get, the more you earn."
Shoko's heart skipped. "That's it?"
Roy nodded. "That's it."
He wanted to test his new ability's effects further. Kiba and the others trained privately, so Roy couldn't track their progress or his own gains precisely. A guinea pig starting from scratch right beside him would give clearer data.
"If that's all, I'll take the gig."
To Shoko, it sounded easy. Train, get strong, get paid—too good to be true.
With that mindset, she accepted Roy's offer.
When she came to, it was the next day.
Rising from the couch, she blinked around in confusion.
"Where…?"
"My place."
Roy's voice came from nearby.
Shoko flinched, fear flashing in her eyes.
It hit her.
Yesterday, she'd trained as Roy instructed, only to pass out mid-session from exhaustion.
"You're a real weakling—two hours of training, and you slept through the night, waking up later than me."
"Good thing I'm chill. A stricter boss would've canned you on day two."
Then fire me already.
"Here's yesterday's pay—50,000 yen, including your strength gains. Take it."
"Thanks, boss."
"'Boss' sounds weird. Call me Master."
"…Thanks, Master."
Life ain't easy, Shoko sighed.
Twenty days later, Tokyo Jujutsu High.
"Huh? Roy, what're you doing here?"
Fresh from training, Yuji Itadori's eyes lit up, waving at his friend in the distance.
"Collecting my reward."
Roy took a cursed corpse from Gojo Satoru.
With Sukuna's finger relocated, evil spirit activity around Kuoh had plummeted. To farm more entries, Roy had tapped Gojo to connect him with jujutsu higher-ups.
The jujutsu brass welcomed Roy, a devil, with open arms. With evil spirits popping up everywhere and sorcerers perpetually short-staffed, his help was a godsend.
After negotiating terms, Roy struck a deal: they provided intel, he provided muscle.
Beyond scoring entries from spirits, he'd pocket a bonus too.
Stowing the cursed corpse, Roy glanced at Gojo.
"Feels like the missions lately are too easy. No special-grade cursed spirits for me to fight?"
Gojo shrugged. "There are some, but I've mostly cleaned them out."
Roy: "?"
Gojo: "Don't look at me like that. Your rates are just too steep."
"With enough hands on deck, special-grade jobs naturally fall to me."
"Fair enough."
Roy sighed.
No wonder his missions topped out at Grade 1 spirits—Jujutsu High was pinching pennies, letting Gojo handle the special-grades.
"Next time there's a special-grade, call me. I'll charge Grade 1 rates."
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "That's a steep discount. Doesn't that clash with your devil 'equivalent exchange' shtick?"
Roy: "I'm not a pure-blood devil, so I don't sweat that rule."
"Anyway, let's swap next time—you take the Grade 1s, leave the special-grades to me."
"Deal."
Gojo agreed.
Special-grades were no sweat for him, but the constant running around was a drag. Roy easing the load was a win.
Still…
"With your strength, fighting special-grades won't boost you much, right?"
"Why fixate on them? Normally, wouldn't you challenge me instead?"
"Not yet."
Roy brushed it off.
Maybe due to this fused world, Gojo's power outstripped his canon self. Right now, Roy only had an 80% shot at winning—too shaky.
Another month of growth, and he'd take Gojo down with 100% certainty.
Buzz—!
A red glow flared.
Roy pulled a flyer from his pocket, reading the signal.
The mark he'd left on Issei Hyoudou had triggered.
"Less than a month, huh? Thought he'd last longer."
Waving goodbye to Gojo and crew, Roy activated the flyer's teleportation array.
In a blink, the scenery shifted, and he materialized in a park.
Issei lay at his feet, blood pooling from a gut wound.
The culprit, walking away toward the park's exit, had her back to him.
"Hm?"
Sensing magical ripples behind her, Raynare turned, locking eyes with Roy.
"A devil? Why are you here?"
"Guess."
"Playing mysterious, huh?"
Raynare sneered, summoning a light spear to attack.
But Roy flickered, appearing before her in an instant.
Boom—!
Agony exploded through her as Raynare crashed into the ground, realization dawning too late.
"Now, interrogation time."
Roy leisurely pulled out a recording crystal, aiming it at her.
"Dear fallen angel lady, I hear you've been busy in the shadows lately."
"Care to tell me what you're up to?"
"Damn devil! You think I'll break over this?!"
Raynare struggled to rise.
But Roy activated an immortal art, tweaking her life flame.
A soul-rending pain engulfed her instantly.
"Stop! Stop it!"
"I'll talk!"
Unable to bear it, Raynare wailed, spilling the Sacred Gear extraction plan in a few frantic words.
"Thanks for cooperating."
Roy switched off the crystal and lobbed a fireball at her.
Green entry +1. Verdict: small fry.
Buzz—!
A magic circle bloomed nearby.
Rias stepped out, scanning the scene before looking at Roy.
"Looks like I'm late."
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