"It went that way," Erima said, pointing with her bow toward the north side of the bazaar. "It's fast, but it'll leave a trail of demonic residue. Even a novice magician should be able to track it."
Yogawa shot her a venomous glare. "I am not a novice. My tracking skills are impeccable." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A faint purple light glowed at his temples. "Yes… I can feel its foul energy. This way!"
He stormed off without another word, expecting us to follow.
Kizawa leaned in and whispered, "Are we sure about this guy? He's kind of a jerk."
"A massive jerk," I agreed cheerfully. "But he can use magic, and we can't. That could be useful. Besides, he's funny when he's mad."
"Everything's a joke to you, isn't it?" Kizawa sighed, but he was smiling.
We followed Yogawa through the twisting streets of the town, moving away from the bustling market and into a quieter, residential area. He led us to a large, slightly dusty building with a sign that read: "Town Archives & Library."
"It's in there?" I asked, surprised. "I didn't think demons could read."
"They're drawn to places with old energy," Yogawa explained stiffly, as if it pained him to share information. "Old books, old records… it's like catnip for minor spirits."
He pushed the heavy wooden doors open, and we stepped inside. The library was cool and silent, with shafts of dusty sunlight slanting down from high windows. It smelled of old paper and beeswax. And underneath it all, there was the faint, sour scent of a demon.
An elderly librarian looked up from his desk, peering at us over his spectacles. "Can I help you?"
"Pest control," Kizawa said smoothly. "We had reports of… rats."
The librarian nodded sagely. "Ah, yes. We've had a bit of a problem. Chewed books, strange noises in the stacks. Be my guest."
We spread out, moving silently through the towering shelves of books. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
"I don't like this," Erima whispered, nocking an arrow to her string. "The energy feels… stronger in here."
Yogawa paused, his hand outstretched. "She's right. It's not just the Sogenbi. There's something else here. Something… bigger."
As if on cue, a loud crash echoed from the back of the library, followed by a panicked shout.
"That didn't sound like a rat," I muttered, drawing my daggers.
We raced toward the sound, finding ourselves in a section dedicated to local history. Books were scattered everywhere. A heavy bookshelf had been knocked over, and standing over it was not the small Sogenbi, but a much larger, more intimidating demon.
It was a Gashadokuro-or at least, a developing one. It wasn't the giant skeleton of legend, not yet, but a grotesque amalgamation of bones and dark energy, easily fifteen feet tall. In one of its massive bony hands, it held the tiny, squeaking Sogenbi, seemingly absorbing its energy. It was an advance-level demon, feeding on a lesser one to grow stronger.
"Okay," Kizawa said, drawing both his swords. "This is officially above a 'pest control' pay grade."
The shout, however, hadn't come from the demon. Cowering behind the fallen bookshelf was a young man, shorter than the rest of us, with a cheerful, round face and bright, curious eyes. He was clutching a thick, leather-bound book to his chest like a shield.
"Wow!" the boy exclaimed, his initial fear immediately replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated excitement. "A juvenile Gashadokuro! And it's exhibiting parasitic absorption of a lower-class spirit! This is incredible! The textbooks don't do the energy patterns justice at all!"
We all just stared at him.
"Is he… for real?" Erima deadpanned.
The Gashadokuro turned its hollow eye sockets toward the boy, clearly annoyed by his enthusiastic commentary. It let out a rattling roar and took a lumbering step toward him.
"Idiot! Get back!" Yogawa yelled, launching a blast of purple energy at the skeleton. The spell struck its ribcage and fizzled out, doing little more than making it angrier.
"My magic isn't strong enough!" Yogawa grunted in frustration.
The skeleton swiped a massive clawed hand at the boy. My heart leaped into my throat. But the boy wasn't scared. He was… smiling.
"Fascinating! Look at the articulation of the metacarpals!" he yelled happily.
Then, he did something completely unexpected. He dropped his book, reared back, and threw a punch.
It shouldn't have worked. A human fist against a giant bone monster? But as his fist connected with the Gashadokuro's wrist, there was a loud CRACK, and the bony hand shattered into pieces.
The demon howled in pain. The boy, meanwhile, was shaking his hand, a huge grin on his face. "Whoa! That packed more of a punch than I thought! Awesome!"
He wasn't just some defenseless scholar. He was a fighter. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his fists raised. "Hey! Bonehead! You're a fascinating specimen, but you're also a public nuisance! Let's dance!"
He ducked under another swipe and delivered a powerful kick to the demon's knee, cracking the bone. He was incredibly strong, and his movements, while not as refined as ours, were filled with a joyful, brawling energy.
"Who is this guy?!" Kizawa yelled over the noise of the battle.
"I have no idea, but I like him!" I shouted back, finally snapping out of my stupor. "Let's help him out!"
We joined the fray. Erima fired arrows at its joints, slowing it down. Yogawa, despite his grumbling, provided magical support, firing smaller, precise energy bolts at its eye sockets to distract it. Kizawa and I went in close, our blades flashing.
But the real star was the new kid. He was laughing, actually laughing, as he punched and kicked his way through the demon's defenses.
"Hachiro, at your service!" he shouted to us mid-punch. "Demonology enthusiast and brawler extraordinaire! It's a pleasure to fight with you!"
"Mizuki! Nice fists!" I yelled back, ducking under a swing and slicing at the demon's spine.
With our combined assault, the Gashadokuro didn't stand a chance. It was Hachiro who delivered the final blow. He leaped onto the fallen bookshelf, launched himself into the air, and delivered a devastating flying kick right to the demon's skull. The skull exploded into a shower of bone fragments and dark energy, and the rest of the body collapsed into a dusty pile.
Silence descended on the library once more.
The short boy, Hachiro, landed lightly on his feet, brushing dust off his clothes. He beamed at us.
"That was amazing! A real-life demon battle! I got so much good data!" He then noticed the terrified Sogenbi, which had been dropped during the fight and was now trying to crawl away. "Oh, and the initial specimen!"
Before Yogawa could unleash his pent-up rage on it, Hachiro scooped it up gently. "Don't worry, little guy," he cooed at the trembling demon-rat. "I'm just going to study you for a bit. Non-invasively, of course!"
Yogawa looked like his brain was about to short-circuit. "You… you can't be serious. You want to keep it?"
"Of course! Think of the research possibilities!" Hachiro said, his eyes sparkling with academic glee.
And just like that, our team of three had somehow become five. A tsundere magician with anger issues and a cheerful, demon-obsessed brawler.
I looked at Kizawa, at Erima, at the fuming Yogawa, and at the beaming Hachiro holding a demon-rat like a pet. This was, without a doubt, the weirdest group of people I had ever met.
And I had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot more interesting.