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His plan had worked perfectly.
Max was in a damn good mood.
A faint grin tugged at his lips as he got up and headed back to the master bedroom upstairs. He pulled some pajamas from the closet, went to the bathroom for a shower, and then, without overthinking, turned off the lights and went straight to bed.
After all, thanks to that Claw Spirit, he hadn't slept for two days.
Sure, awakening the Seven Authorities had supercharged his body and mind to the point where fatigue barely touched him anymore.
But right now? He just wanted to sleep.
And sleep he did.
By the time morning sunlight slipped through the blinds, it was already past nine.
Max stirred awake, eyes hazy with lingering drowsiness. He blinked a couple of times before pushing himself up, stretching out the stiffness, and wandering to the window.
With a click of the controller, the blinds rose, flooding the room with light.
"Looks like today's got promise," he muttered, intertwining his fingers, raising his arms overhead, and letting out a long, satisfying stretch.
That nap had been exactly what he needed—pure, natural sleep. He hadn't felt this refreshed in ages.
Leaving the window cracked half open, Max picked out some clothes, took another quick shower, and got ready for the day.
He already had a plan:
Hit the streets, explore a bit, maybe unlock a few more entries in his Compendium.
Best case? Run into some evil spirits along the way.
The Claw Spirit was already dust, sure, but now he had the taste for it. He wanted more.
Because in his eyes, there wasn't a single good spirit among them.
If they were worth calling "good," they wouldn't be called evil spirits in the first place.
Not guardian spirits, not protectors—evil. And evil stayed evil until it was snuffed out.
The only good spirit was a dead one.
Half an hour later, dressed and ready, he stepped out with just the essentials:
Phone, keys, wallet… and his Bluetooth earbuds.
Picking a random direction, Max strolled down the street at an unhurried pace.
Quietly, he circulated his spiritual energy, letting just a trickle of life force leak out.
Spiritual energy, magic, mana—it was all just different ways of expressing life force.
And evil spirits craved strong life force.
So, bait on the hook. Fishing, basically.
But he couldn't let too much slip. To weaker spirits, overwhelming energy wasn't bait—it was a threat.
Time slipped by, light as a breeze brushing through a passerby's hair.
Thirty minutes later, his patience paid off: a spirit lurking in a shadowy alley had taken the bait.
Max extended his mental sense.
Its presence was maybe a fifth as strong as the Claw Spirit—definitely a low-tier spirit.
Humanoid, more or less.
Empty sockets where eyes should be.
Skin blackened and shriveled like a dried corpse.
And it wore a business suit.
Probably some poor office drone who'd died and twisted into this.
Max could feel its hunger for his life force, the malice dripping off it like tar.
But he didn't strike just yet.
Instead, he kept moving, shifting his path, letting it trail him.
The office-spirit mumbled nonstop as it followed:
"Sir, you can see me, can't you?"
"Sir, you can see me?"
Max ignored it, keeping his face blank.
Before he knew it, it was noon.
He'd spent the whole morning walking, drawing more stragglers, and by the time he reached a forested area on the edge of Saitama's Oborozuka City, thirteen low-tier spirits shadowed him.
Too bad none of them were high-value catches.
He finally stopped, turned slowly, and slid both hands into his pockets.
"Time for you all to move on."
For a moment, the spirits froze, confused.
Then, realizing their prey could see them, their bodies billowed with black mist, faces twisting into grotesque snarls.
Just as they lunged in, the air temperature spiked.
The power of the Red Authority flared.
Flames erupted from nowhere, blazing meteors streaking toward the spirits.
"Ah—!"
Their shrieks barely started before the fire consumed them, their forms unraveling into nothing more than curling wisps of black smoke.
Snap.
Max flicked his fingers, snuffing the flames instantly.
All gone.
Opening his Compendium, he found thirteen new entries unlocked.
He skimmed through—every one of them marked white tier.
And the rewards? Pure energy.
Not medium amounts, though. Just small scraps.
Still, scraps were scraps. "Meat's still meat, even off a mosquito," as the saying went. He absorbed them all into himself.
But his brows drew together.
The growth was barely a tenth of what he got from the Claw Spirit.
Meaning these things were each about a tenth of its strength.
"Pathetic," he muttered, curling his lip in disgust at the ground they'd once occupied.
Then he turned and walked away.
Yeah, he'd gotten something this morning—but not much.
Honestly? A little disappointing.
For a moment, he even thought: if only this world's spirits were as common as in Mieruko-chan, where you couldn't turn a corner without tripping over one.
Leaving the woods, he pulled his life force back down to an ordinary human's level, no longer fishing for spirits.
Whatever came next, he'd just leave to chance.
Half an hour later, in Banchō District, he was passing a quiet residential street when a commotion drew his attention.
"Let go! Let go, damn it!"
"How dare you steal my favorite pineapple bun!"
"You mangy mutt—!"
Curious, Max followed the noise.
And froze when he saw it.
Not far away, a short red-haired girl with black bat-shaped hairpins was… fighting a dog over food.
Yep. Straight up wrestling a dog.
And from the looks of it? Dead even.
"…Why does this scene feel weirdly familiar?" Max squinted, searching his memory.
His enhanced brain raced, piecing it together—
Then it hit him.
Hu Taozawa Satania McDowell.
That was her name.
Straight out of Gabriel DropOut.
Sure, right now she looked like she couldn't even out-muscle a Samoyed for bread.
But she wasn't human.
She was a demon—by race, not metaphor.
If she actually used her power, forget a dog—she could probably smash a truck with a punch.
"Demons and angels, huh…"
Realizing who she was added another piece to Max's growing picture of this crossover world.
Demons from the Demon Realm.
Angels from Heaven.
Any mythology-based worldbuilding like that? Never weak.
His mind drifted to Gabriel's sister, Japhiel.
He didn't know much, but from what he'd gathered, she could casually erase a world with a flick of her finger.
Undeniably terrifying.
Even so, Max wasn't too worried.
Sure, Gabriel DropOut characters had ridiculous individual power levels, but safety wasn't really an issue.
Gabriel, for instance, was always talking big about blowing the Apocalypse Trumpet to bring about the end of days.
But she never actually would.
And even if she did? He figured Japhiel would drag her away for a… sisterly "lesson."
So why worry about angels?
Spirits were the bigger headache.
Not that Maxi was scared of them anymore.
Before his golden cheat appeared, he'd treated spirits like mortal threats.
Now?
Spirits?
Heh. Just roadkill.
"....."