"Ren, are those… all of them yours?"
Maki Zen'in's eyes were wide with disbelief as she scanned the courtyard, taking in the assembled Shikigami—Yuki-Onna, Ubume, Ghost Messengers White and Black, and several others she didn't recognize from traditional records.
Ren crossed his arms, nodding calmly. "Yeah. They're all my contracted Shikigami through the Ten Shadows Technique."
Maki blinked. "Wait—that Ten Shadows Technique? From the Zen'in Clan archives? That means your Shikigami should be the usual ones: Divine Dogs, Nue, Max Elephant, the Great Serpent… even Mahoraga. But I've never seen any of these before."
She wasn't accusing him—just genuinely confused. The longer she followed Ren, the more she realized he didn't just bend the rules of their world—he rewrote them.
Ren gave a small, unapologetic smile. "Those originals were too weak. Mahoraga is decent, I'll admit that. But I needed Shikigami that could match me. So I found my own. Hunted them. Bound them."
Maki stared at him like he'd just said he had tea with Sukuna and lived. Then she chuckled, folding her arms with a proud grin. "Of course. That's exactly the kind of ridiculous thing you'd do."
Inwardly, she felt a strange warmth—relief, even. I chose the right man.
Ren clapped his hands. "Anyway, I've bought the villa next door. From now on, Kyonshi Ani, Ghost Messenger White, and Ghost Messenger Black—you three will stay there."
"Yes, Master!" the two ghost messengers bowed in perfect unison, their voices like echoes from the void.
Kyonshi Ani, however, stubbornly shook his head. "I'm not going."
Ren narrowed his eyes. "You're a boy. It's not appropriate for you to be staying here with the girls."
"But… Master, you're also a boy."
Ren: "..."
Across the room, Maki Zen'in burst out laughing, barely holding back tears. The other girls covered their mouths, trying and failing to hide their amusement.
Ren's expression turned dark. "Kyonshi Ani."
The little spirit straightened up immediately, panicking. "Ah! Sorry, Master! Please don't be angry. I'll go. I'll go now!"
With that, he grabbed the sleeves of the ghost messengers and bolted toward the next villa like his soul depended on it.
Ren exhaled, shaking his head with a faint smile. "Problem solved."
He turned to Sakura. "Assign the rest of the Shikigami to rooms."
The house had two floors. On the second floor, there were seven guest rooms. They were perfectly distributed among the female Shikigami: Kyonshi Imouto, Hotarugusa, Yuki-Onna, Hakuro, Ubume, Youtou Hime, and Takiyasha Hime. Each powerful in her own right—some ancient, some new, all loyal.
The first floor had six more rooms. Ren shared one with Maki Zen'in. Kurahashi Kyoko was given another. Sakura had her own, and the remaining three were assigned to Utahime Iori, Miwa Kasumi, and Nishimiya Momo.
There was also a study, which Ren converted into a spare bedroom and gave to Zen'in Mai.
As for the second floor's storage room and unused maid's room, Ren had them repurposed. One was now home to Tsuchimikado Natsume, and the other to Dairenji Suzuka—two Onmyoji with different backgrounds but similar resolve.
Everything fit. No space wasted.
...
Night fell.
Dinner took time. With sixteen more mouths to feed, Sakura and Hotarugusa worked like machines in the kitchen. The smells of grilled fish, seasoned rice, and miso soup filled the air, comforting yet rich with spiritual infusions.
Around the large round table, everyone gathered. Swordswomen. Spirits. Onmyoji. Cursed Energy users. It was a surreal sight—an army in disguise as a dinner party.
Ren watched them all—so many different paths converging here. This is what I've built.
Afterward, he personally escorted Yotsuya Miko, Niguredou Yuria, and Yurikawa Hana home. They were still too connected to the outside world, unable to stay here like the others. Yet their training would continue.
But Ren didn't return home right away.
....
Akihabara – Onmyo Agency Headquarters
Director Kurahashi Genji sat alone in his office, brows furrowed as he reviewed a thick file labeled Spiritual Disaster Cases: National Level. Reports were piling up—rising cursed spirit activity, unexplained demonic pulses, interference in ley lines. Chaos brewed beneath the surface of modern Japan.
Suddenly—click. The lights went out.
He looked up. The rest of the building was still lit.
Frowning, Genji approached the wall and toggled the switch. Click.
The lights flickered back on.
But when he turned around, he froze.
At some point—without a sound or warning—a young man had appeared on the reception sofa of the director's office.
His posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, but the space around him was suffused with a quiet, almost regal pressure. Standing at his sides were two female Shikigami, both exuding terrifying spiritual energy. One bore a demon-forged katana, its sheath etched with wards older than the capital itself. The other held a moon-shaped halberd that shimmered faintly with celestial light.
They weren't just Shikigami.
They were apex-class familiars—no less powerful than Tsuchimikado Yakou's legendary Kakugyo-ki, the Oni Lord Ibaraki Dōji.
Kurahashi Genji felt a drop of cold sweat slide down his temple. But as the Director of the Onmyo Agency, he forced himself to remain calm.
"…Who are you, exactly?" he asked, voice low but steady.
The young man didn't answer immediately. His gaze was flat, unreadable. There was no malice—only judgment. It was like being appraised by an ancient divine spirit.
Just as Genji felt his chest tighten under the weight of the silence, the man finally spoke.
"You sent your daughter to approach me, and you don't even know who I am?"
His voice was smooth, almost melodic, but steeped in mockery.
Kurahashi's pupils constricted. "Akiyama Ren… You're him?"
Ren didn't bother replying. Instead, his gaze sharpened. "How many people did you tell… about the Magic System I integrated?"
Genji's breath hitched. So that's what this is about… He quickly bowed his head. "I only told Dairenji Suzuka. I swear! She was tasked with approaching you, yes—but it wasn't malicious. We wanted to recruit you. That's all."
The temperature in the room dropped.
Ren raised a single hand—and with a flick of his fingers, spiritual threads materialized midair and latched onto Kurahashi Genji's throat from across the room.
"You're lying," Ren said flatly. "And mortals who lie to a god should know their place."
He clenched.
The cords tightened, choking the older man as he stumbled back, both hands clawing at his neck.
"Wait—please—I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!" Genji gasped, face flushed red as the air left his lungs.
Ren tilted his head. "I gave you a chance."
With a quiet snap, the threads twisted.
Kurahashi Genji's neck bent at an unnatural angle, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The director of the Onmyo Agency—one of the most politically powerful exorcists in Japan—had just been killed in his own office. Ren didn't flinch. He showed no hesitation, no sentimentality. The fact that the man was Kurahashi Kyoko's father meant nothing to him.
Whether she resented him or not was irrelevant.
She was just another side character. If she obeyed, she would be sheltered. If she rebelled, she would be eliminated.
Ren stepped over the corpse, placing his palm on Genji's forehead. "Soul Extraction."
A subtle incantation slipped from his lips, and Genji's lingering soul was drawn into his hand. Glowing threads of memory danced in his palm—secrets, faces, betrayals.
He saw them all.
"Hmph," Ren muttered, withdrawing his hand. "So he told others too."
He turned to his twin Shikigami. "Demon Sword Princess. Takiyashahime. Eliminate these names—quietly."
Both women bowed. "As you command."
They vanished without a trace, warping through shadow and mist.
Ren stood alone in the office, looking down at the husk of the man who once ruled the Onmyo Agency.
Then he raised his hand once more—and crushed the soul in his palm into spiritual dust.
A warning.
To the Onmyo Agency.
To the Jujutsu Alliance.
To the entire upper echelon of Japan's supernatural world.
You could offer him your pawns, your women, your alliances—but if you dared plot behind his back?
He would bury you.
....
Later that night, Ren returned to his villa.
He took a quiet bath, let the warmth sink into his bones, then lounged in front of the TV as if he hadn't just executed one of the most influential men in Tokyo.
Moments later, Demon Sword Princess and Takiyashahime returned from their mission.
"Master, all targets have been dealt with," Demon Sword Princess reported, kneeling with blade in hand.
Ren gave a short nod. "Good work. You both deserve some rest."
"Yes, Master," they echoed, disappearing back into their rooms.
The night was silent once again.
But in the shadows of Japan's spiritual hierarchy, chaos had just been unleashed.
****
Demon Sword Princess is Youtou-hime. Tell me which you prefer.