The conference room in Russia was freezing.
Biting cold that crept into the bones.
Fifteen of them sat around the long table.
Waiting.
The door banged open. Everyone shot up to their feet and threw a salute so fast one guy almost knocked his chair over.
"Commander!"
The Russian leader walked in, settled into the massive chair at the head, and slammed two fingers down on the table. They all sat down like their strings had been cut. He looked at them, ice dripping from his voice. "Report."
The general stood up.
"Sir... this time, we won't fail you. We've got something golden. Something you didn't expect."
But he paused.
"We moved in and captured a sorcerer from Japan. But not just any—it's Itou Tasaku, the second son. He belongs to the Tasaku Clan."
"The ones who run the entire Sorcerer system back there. We grabbed him and transported him here to Russia."
He sat back down, wiping his brow.
But the Russian leader didn't blink.
"I don't give a damn about the details."
His voice dropped.
"Just. Give. Me. Results. Are my orders clear? They don't change."
"Did you use every tool? Every insect, every method? Violence, psychological—everything. Because let me tell you something."
He leaned forward.
"If the USA gets its hands on a Sorcerer before we do... you're all as good as dead. Got it? Results. Only results."
He stood up and walked out, the door slamming behind him.
No one dared to breathe.
The room was so quiet you could hear the buzzing of the old lights.
Their bodies were trembling—full-on shaking.
The prison cell stank—blood, sweat, and something rotting in the corner.
Flies everywhere.
The place hadn't been cleaned since World War II. They used it back then to break enemies.
And there was Itou.
Tied to a metal frame like a goddamn cross, chains digging deep into his wrists.
He was naked. Completely out cold.
His body was blackened, scorched raw from dozens of electric shocks they'd pumped into him.
Tokyo Station. Shibuya.
Jin howled the second he spotted them.
"FINALLY! There you are! Hahahaha!"
He bolted down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet.
"Old man! Look at you! What the hell is that ugly mug?"
"Haven't seen that face in forever! Tokugawa—good to see you, man!"
Fabio was sprawled flat on the floor, dead asleep. He didn't even open his eyes.
"Shut your damn mouth, Jin! I haven't slept in sixteen days. Sixteen. In the middle of the Sahara Desert. Walking. Let me rest!"
Jin cracked up, slapping the wall to keep from falling over.
"The Sahara?! No way. Wait, wait, wait—don't tell me the fake world actually sent you to Egypt? That's hilarious!"
Ronika yelled at the top of her lungs.
"EVERYONE, SHUT IT! We don't have time for this circus!"
She scanned the room.
"Yeah, we're out of the fake world. Yeah, it's a shock. But we've got work. A ton of work."
"We have five major problems, and we need to solve them right now."
Jin's smile vanished. He slumped against the wall.
"Count me out. I'm out. Knockout. Tired as hell."
Ronika snapped at him.
"Get up!"
She spun around.
"Yukito! Where the hell are you? Bring me the list. God... what a bunch of amateurs. Who put me in charge of this disaster?"
Yukito rushed over and handed her the list.
She grabbed it, scanning the names, her eyes narrowing.
"Listen up, people!"
She yelled it out loud.
"We've lost nine sorcerers, total. Nine of our people are dead. GONE."
She took a breath.
"And I'm not even mentioning that piece of trash, Farzo. If anyone sees him, you kill him on sight. Understood?"
She looked back down at the paper.
"Okay, so... let's do the math. Seventy-six active Sorcerers total."
"Take away the fifteen freelancers who don't answer to us—that leaves sixty-one."
She paused, swallowing hard.
"Now, remove our nine dead friends... that leaves fifty-two. Fifty-two, people."
Her finger traced the names.
"And we lost five more that we can't even find. Just vanished into thin air."
"The other nine? We know exactly where they are—they're in Osaka, protecting Ibaraki."
She crumpled the paper for a second, then smoothed it out.
"But we've got one massive problem. One huge ugly stinking problem...
Right now, there are five Devils out there.
Conquerors-Grade
Scattered across different regions.
The problem?
They're not even allies.
And they're strong. Scary strong.
We're in a shitty situation.
Really bad.
Half the team is already wounded.
Ruka, Valentina, Alexandra, and Riko—all of them are hurt.
Badly. And we only have twelve active members left. Twelve who can actually throw a punch right now.
Sora Haze jumped up and said... "I can help! Let me go!" Ronika didn't even think.
"No. You're not going anywhere."
Her voice is sharp, cutting through the air.
"You're staying right here with Mireya Kurozane. They need healing more than we need fighters right now."
Jin snaps at her, his tone suddenly deadly serious.
"Have you even heard yourself, Ronika? Like, actually listened?"
"Everyone here is wounded. Everyone. Who's going to protect them if we leave? The damn wind?"
"We have to stay put. The situation is a mess—completely scrambled. We don't even know what move to make next."
Ronika rubbed her temples.
"Ugh... fine. Just this once."
She let out a long, heavy breath.
"I know you're all I'm agreeing with too fast because I've got a splitting headache right now, and I can't argue properly."
Jin burst out laughing.
Loud. Uncontrollable.
Tears started rolling down his cheeks.
"You're giving orders like a boss?! Hahahaha! You're literally wounded yourself!"
He doubled over, gasping for air. "Hahahaha—oh god..."
(Narrator's lines)
< The last one is the Devil Ocean, one of the most historical Devils and the smartest in the history of humanity, who usually lives in the oceans but, due to the chaos, was forced to come out to find his interests.
If all 5 of these Devils end up in Tokyo, the city will sink even deeper into chaos—and then no one will be able to stop them
Right now, the DEVIL DOUBLE is somewhere high up in Tokyo.
But luckily, Narami has already spotted him.
She knows exactly where he is.
The second one—the DEVIL MONSTER—is preparing hundreds of Devils outside Tokyo.
He's getting ready to invade the entire city.
But Suzuki, the independent sorcerer, has him locked in his sights from a distance.
He's waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Yizuri Shark and Naoto are moving north.
Their target The DEVIL FROG.
He's perched on top of two buildings, swallowing innocent people who are trying to escape from below.
He attacks them with his massive tongue—huge, wet, and brutal.
The DEVIL OCEAN is at the coast right now.
But fate is cruel—Oz Zephyr and Bliss Noir are there too.
And they don't have any techniques
They've run straight into a powerful devil with no way to fight back.
And the last one—the Devil of Help—is hiding underground.
Deep in the sewers, beneath the city.
In the exact same area, Echo's team is down there with their leader, Kai Mori.
They have no idea he's right beneath their feet>>
The entire center of Tokyo was a sea of bodies—pissed-off, sweating bodies. Cops and military had the streets locked down tight. No one in, no one out.
Someone threw a bottle, then a rock, then half a convenience store's worth of trash rained down on the riot shields.
"Let us through, you bastards!"
A woman spat at a patrol car. A guy in a suit was screaming so hard his veins popped, grabbing anything off the ground—cans, shoes, gravel—and hurling it at the front line.
Suddenly, the massive video screens across the city flickered, static, and then the Prime Minister's face filled the frame.
"My fellow citizens... I... I won't lie to you. We're under attack. A coordinated terrorist strike. Right in the heart of the capital."
He cleared his throat and read from the teleprompter too fast. "The military is doing what they can. The crisis protocols are in place. We're on top of it. Just... stay calm. Please. For the love of God, don't panic. That's exactly what they want."
He paused, sweat dripping down his temple. "We are handling it. Our democracy is strong. We will get through this. More updates soon. Stay inside. Please. Just stay inside."
The crowd erupted. "What the hell is he saying?!" "Let us go home, you psychos!" "We're trapped here like animals!"
And then—the sky turned red. Not sunset red, not neon-sign red—blood red, burn-your-retinas red, the kind of red that makes your brain short-circuit.
Everyone froze. Hands mid-throw, jaws hanging open, one guy dropped his rock on his own foot and didn't even flinch. Even the soldiers looked up, their rifles drooping toward the asphalt, their training just... evaporated.
A shape hovered above the government district—glowing, pulsing, like a massive, jagged cross made of pure heat. Before anyone could blink, a voice ripped through the air—Sakoura. That insane, scratching laugh, like nails on a chalkboard mixed with a hyena.
"You think those people have a soul?! Ha! Ha ha ha! They're just numbers! Walking, breathing NUMBERS! Revenge of the End!"
The cross lurched forward and plummeted.
The explosion was wrong. No sound at first—just a blinding white flash that ate the world, your pupils burning before your brain even registered the light. Then the shockwave hit. Buildings collapsed like wet cardboard, glass turned to powder, and red flames—thick, oily, hungry—erupted into the sky, licking the clouds and turning the air into a furnace.
The heat was unbearable. It peeled the skin off their faces, off their arms, off their backs—they didn't even have time to scream. For one horrifying split second, they stood there—skeletons. Raw, red, fleshless skeletons, still holding their shape, still standing, still there.
Then a second wave hit—invisible, absolute—and they simply vanished. Dust, ash, silence. The entire area was wiped clean, like someone had taken an eraser to a chalkboard and blown the dust away.