POV Narrator
After Makima's intervention, Power finally calmed down. There was no need to shout at her or restrain her by force; just a few words, spoken in that soft yet dangerous voice of the redhead, were enough to leave Power completely frozen.
In less than a minute, the devil—who seconds ago had wanted to devour Isagi alive—was promising to "behave herself."
That "little scolding" was enough to temporarily soothe Power… which was already saying a lot.
Following Makima's advice, the trio moved through areas with very few people. Power's horns attracted far too many stares, and the last thing they wanted was to cause a scene.
The perfect solution: the rooftops.
Luckily, the buildings were low and easy to climb and traverse, so walking across them felt like moving through elevated streets.
Power paced back and forth like a freshly captured tiger—restless, impatient, twitching an imaginary tail. Every few seconds, she shot quick glances at Isagi, like a predator sizing up its prey.
Just his scent irritated her; it was too tempting, too delicious. Her instincts screamed at her to pounce and bite his neck.
But then, a phrase cracked through her mind like a whip:
> "Remember, if you want his blood, you'll have to ask for it. Understood, Power?"
It had been Makima's warning right before they left. A warning delivered with such a calm smile that it had sent chills down the demon's spine.
That single memory was enough—for now—to keep her impulses in check.
That was how imposing Makima was. With just a few words, she could put even someone as wild and unpredictable as Power in her place. The frustration on the demon's face was living proof of it.
Suddenly, Power came to an abrupt stop. Her hair lifted slightly from the sudden movement, and she spun around violently, pointing at Denji as if he were her personal servant.
"—Human!" she roared with absolute authority, stomping the roof beneath them. "Find me something to kill! I thirst for blood!"
"Mmm… nah." Denji replied with such flat disinterest it almost sounded like a yawn. He had fantasized about the idea of having a hot partner—
some kind of teenage dream come true—but so far, Power had been nothing but an unbearable headache.
Even stubborn Denji had his limits: not even beauty could soften how annoying she was. They kept walking across the rooftop, Denji slightly hunched over, hands buried in his pockets, dragging his feet, his expression screaming pure boredom.
Isagi walked beside him. They didn't exchange a single word; there was no need. The only sound breaking the silence was Power's voice, repeating for the umpteenth time that she wanted blood, demanding it like starving royalty.
Denji ignored her because she annoyed him.
Isagi ignored her because she had already tried to bite him and still looked at him like he was a personal buffet.
(What if I just throw her off the roof?)
Isagi shot her a sideways glance, imagining for a second what it would be like to shove her off the edge of the building. The temptation was there… alive, dangerous, but silent.
And as if the universe decided to complicate their day, the group ran into a pair of civilian devil hunters. Upon seeing the horns protruding from Power's head, they immediately approached, alert and curious.
(Damn… I've always wanted to do something like this).
Isagi straightened his back sharply, like a spring snapping into place, and elbowed Denji to make him do the same.
He adjusted his tie with an exaggerated gesture, trying to look professional—almost elegant.
"I am the marvelous devil hunter," he said in a firm, almost theatrical voice, "and this is my partner… the handsome devil hunter."
He flashed his Public Safety Devil Hunter badge with an elegant motion, like he was in a movie, and pointed at Denji with his thumb.
Calling him "handsome" might have been mockery… or irony so thick anyone could notice. Denji was anything but handsome; calling him that was like a dark-skinned doctor introducing himself as "Doctor White." An absurd contrast that almost hurt.
"—Me, what?! Ugh!" Denji snorted just as he received another elbow straight to the side of his stomach. "Oh, yeah, yeah! I'm the handsome devil hunter, expert in hunting devils," he repeated, trying to ignore the pain still throbbing where Isagi had hit him.
Still, he pulled out his own Devil Hunter badge and showed it with a forced smile. The civilian hunters grimaced when they saw both credentials. Unlike Public Safety hunters, they didn't have a stable salary.
Their income depended solely on how many devils they managed to kill… if they survived long enough to collect it. Seeing two kids with official badges felt like a bitter reminder of the "class" difference between hunters.
Without saying a word, they turned around and left, leaving the trio alone on the rooftop once more.
Isagi lingered on his badge for a moment, spinning it between his fingers while stroking his chin.
"How much power does this thing really have?" he muttered. "Is it like a student ID that gives discounts and stuff?"
He said it half joking, half serious. After all, they saved entire cities from high-level devils. There had to be some extra perks beyond just a salary… right? The problem was, no one had explained anything to him.
(I think I already have my next question for Makima when I see her again.)
The thought crossed his mind as he tucked the badge back into his pocket, brow slightly furrowed, curiosity gnawing at him.
.
.
.
After that small encounter with the civilian hunters… absolutely nothing happened. The group spent quite a while wandering through alleys, rooftops, and empty streets, always reaching the same disappointing conclusion: not a single devil in sight.
Sure, it wasn't like devils showed up every hour as if they were on sale—but still, the complete lack of activity was frustrating.
"No devils anywhere… where the hell did they all go?" Denji growled, collapsing onto the ground with slumped shoulders, exhausted from searching without even getting a scare.
"No damn clue," Isagi replied, crouched at the edge of the building, staring down at the street as if expecting a devil to crawl out of a sewer just to spice up the day. "But if this keeps up, boredom's gonna kill me… or sleep will."
Power turned toward them with a grin so arrogant it almost seemed to shine, proudly showing off her sharp teeth.
"Perhaps it is my fault, scoundrels." She crossed her arms, puffing out her chest. "Before becoming a fiend, I was a demon greatly feared by weaklings. Upon sensing my glorious scent, devils flee. Such is my overwhelming presence!"
Isagi raised an eyebrow, completely disconnected from her dramatics.
"Who the hell uses words like 'scoundrels' and 'weaklings'? What are you, an old lady from the last century?"
"WHAT?!" Denji practically jumped to his feet. "How the hell are we supposed to get results if your damn smell scares them all away?!"
His voice echoed between the buildings, loaded with frustration and mental exhaustion. But something inside his head clicked—a genuine miracle—and for the first time all day, his neurons worked together.
"Hey, Power," he said, frowning, vaguely pointing at Isagi with a hand gesture. "Then why did you jump at the pineapple-head back in Makima's office?"
Power blinked once… and then her smile widened unsettlingly.
"Huh? Oh! It's because that scoundrel has an exquisite scent! His blood is incredibly tempting!" she exclaimed, shamelessly licking her lips.
Her eyes locked directly onto Isagi, gleaming with a hunger that wasn't entirely physical… or maybe it was. The smell of his blood was so intense and so appealing that it completely drowned out any other trace she might have detected for miles. To Power, Isagi was a walking delicacy.
"I've got it!" Denji shouted, snapping his fingers so hard he almost dislocated them. For one miraculous moment, his IQ spiked higher than bread prices during a crisis. "We use pineapple-head as bait! If Power loves his smell, then devils will too! He'll be our monster magnet!"
Silence fell instantly.
Isagi stared at him with half-lidded eyes, lips pressed into a perfect line that conveyed a thousand insults without uttering a single one.
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End of the chapter.