Thanks to Kirushia's support, Issei arrived right in front of his house in a soft flash of light.
He turned to the succubus with a bright, genuine smile.
"Thanks, Kirushia-san! Now that I can sense my family's energy, I won't need to rely on you to get back to the goddess dimension. And thanks for the new clothes too," he chuckled, tugging at Kuoh academy uniform that was brand new.
Kirushia giggled, stepping closer with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.
"No problem at all~ But... your Instant Transmission won't work just yet. You're not familiar with God Ki, and you can't sense it properly. It'll be difficult to lock onto our energy for now."
She tilted her head, smiling sweetly.
"So for the time being, I think I should pick you up. We wouldn't want to upset Lady Greeta, would we? Plus..." Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "You can show me around your Earthling stores~"
Issei smirked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sure. I don't mind."
A curious, delighted smile spread across Kirushia's face.
"So... it's a date, Issei-kun?!"
Issei's smirk froze. His face instantly flushed bright red.
"W-What?! Um... s-sure, if you want," he stammered, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. A big, goofy grin still managed to creep onto his face anyway.
Kirushia stepped even closer—close enough that he could feel the heat of her body and the faint brush of silk against his arm. She leaned in until their faces were inches apart, her voice dropping to a soft, teasing purr.
"Then it's a date~"
Issei's brain flatlined. His heart hammered so loud he was sure she could hear it. His mind flooded with every indecent thought he'd been trying (and failing) to suppress since the nightgown reunion: her curves, her teasing smile, the way her breasts had felt pressed against him earlier...
He stood there, red as a tomato, stuttering while Kirushia just laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second of his meltdown.
She looped her arm through his, pressing her side against him as she started walking.
"U-um... I gotta go," Issei stammered, face still burning bright red. "I'll see you this afternoon!"
He jolted forward like he'd been shocked, practically sprinting toward his house before Kirushia could say another teasing word. His new tail swished wildly behind him as he disappeared through the front door, slamming it shut with a nervous thud.
Kirushia raised her hand in a lazy wave, smiling warmly as she watched the young Okami-jin vanish inside.
The moment the door closed, her smile slowly faded.
She stood there alone on the quiet street, the morning light catching the silk of her nightgown. Her violet eyes softened, a mix of fondness and quiet worry flickering across her face.
"Issei-kun..." she murmured to herself.
"I feel like you're going to make things very complicated. Good and bad."
She let out a small, wistful sigh, then raised her hand. A soft swirl of dark energy wrapped around her.
In a silent flash, Kirushia teleported away—back to Greeta's planet—leaving only the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Issei pushed open the front door. The familiar creak echoed through the house, loud in the sudden silence.
Three people stood in the living room, frozen—like they'd been waiting for this exact moment.
His father stood near the couch, glasses perched on his nose, a newspaper half-crumpled in his hand. When he saw Issei, he let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion and relief.
Mikan stood near the kitchen entrance, dark brown hair pulled back messily, gripping a spatula like a weapon. Her eyes widened for half a second as she took him in—the longer ponytail, the sharper jaw, the taller, leaner frame, the thick greyish-black wolf tail wrapped around his waist.
Then her expression snapped.
Rage.
Rito stood beside the TV, orange-ish hair as wild as ever, staring at Issei like he'd just walked out of a horror movie.
"Issei!"
The shout hit him like a physical wave.
Issei scratched the back of his neck, tail twitching nervously behind him. He forced a weak, sheepish smile.
"Dad? Rito? Mikan... uh—what's up?"
Mikan moved instantly.
WHACK!
The spatula cracked against the top of his head with surprising force.
"Baka-niisan!!" she yelled, eyes blazing. "Where the hell were you?! You disappeared for an entire day! No note, no call, nothing! Not even Matsuda and Motohama knew where you were! Dad was freaking out! And—look at you!!"
She jabbed the spatula toward him, waving it wildly.
"Why do you look so different?!"
Issei rubbed the sore spot, wincing, though that nervous grin never quite left his face.
"Ow... long story, Mikan."
His father adjusted his glasses, voice low and tired—but tight around the edges.
"Son... we thought something happened to you. The police said missing persons cases go cold fast..."
He paused, swallowing. "We didn't know what to think."
Rito finally snapped out of it, stepping closer with wide eyes.
"Nii-san... you have a tail. A tail. And you're taller. And... buffer?"
He gestured vaguely at Issei's body. "What the hell happened in one day?!"
Issei laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head again, tail flicking guiltily.
"Uh... yeah... about that..."
Rito stared at him for a long second.
Then he sighed deeply and face-palmed so hard his hand made an audible slap.
"I don't even want to know."
Issei sank into the sofa with a heavy sigh, the cushions creaking under him. His tail curled around his waist like a nervous security blanket. The living room felt smaller than he remembered—too normal, too quiet after a year of endless white void and divine pressure.
Mikan stood in front of him, arms crossed, spatula still clutched like she might use it again. Rito sat on the armrest of the adjacent chair, leaning forward with wide eyes. Their father had pulled up a dining chair and sat facing Issei, glasses reflecting the soft afternoon light.
They had bombarded him with questions for the last twenty minutes straight.
Where were you? Why didn't you call? Why do you have a tail? What do you mean "training with a goddess"? Why do your eyes glow sometimes? Is that thing on your arm alive?
Issei rubbed the back of his neck, tail tip twitching.
"Okay... okay, let me try to explain. Just... don't freak out too much, alright?"
He took a deep breath.
"Remember that girl I was seeing? Yuuma? The one I kept talking about?"
Mikan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "The one who stood you up and then ghosted you?"
Issei winced. "Yeah... well... she didn't stand me up. She... killed me."
The room went dead silent.
Rito blinked. "Wait. What?"
"I mean it," Issei said quietly. "She asked me to die for her, then stabbed me with a spear made of light. Right through the chest. I was dead."
Mikan's spatula hand trembled. "You're not funny, Issei."
"I'm not trying to be." He lifted his shirt just enough to show the smooth, unscarred skin where the wound had been. "No mark. But I remember it. I remember everything going black."
His father's face paled. "Son..."
Issei lowered the shirt and kept going.
Issei finished his explanation, voice dropping as he raised his left arm. The red gauntlet materialized in a flash of crimson light, scales glinting like polished ruby under the living room lamp. The air in the room seemed to thicken for a second, as though reality itself recognized the thing now resting on his forearm.
"It's called the Boosted Gear," Issei said quietly, turning his wrist so they could see the intricate patterns etched across the metal. "There's a dragon living inside it. His name is Ddraig. He's... kind of a big deal. And apparently, if I get strong enough, I can use it to kill gods."
The gauntlet pulsed once—slow, deliberate, like a heartbeat.
Then a deep, resonant voice rolled through the room, ancient and calm, carrying an authority that made the hairs on everyone's necks stand up.
[It is a pleasure to meet you all.]
The voice wasn't coming from Issei's mouth. It echoed from the gauntlet itself, filling the space with a low rumble that vibrated in their chests.
[My name is Ddraig, the Heavenly Dragon of Domination. Also known as the Red Dragon Emperor.]
Silence. Absolute, stunned silence.
Mikan's spatula slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
Rito's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
Their father slowly removed his glasses, cleaned them with the hem of his shirt, then put them back on—as if hoping a second look would make the talking dragon glove disappear.
Issei gave a helpless little shrug, cheeks still faintly pink from earlier embarrassment.
"Yeah... he does that sometimes."
Ddraig's voice continued, unhurried, almost polite.
[Your son has become my host. The Boosted Gear chose him. Or perhaps fate did. Either way, he carries a power that can shatter divine thrones. I have watched over many wielders in my long existence. This one... has potential.]
Rito finally found his voice, though it came out as a squeak.
"Nii-san... your arm just spoke. A dragon just spoke. From your arm."
Mikan stared at the gauntlet like it might bite her.
"Issei... you have a pet dragon. In your arm. That can kill gods. And you're telling us this casually?!"
Issei laughed—nervous, a little manic.
"I mean... when you say it like that, it sounds insane."
His father cleared his throat, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands.
"So... you're not just our Issei anymore. You're... what? A dragon emperor now?"
Issei winced. "Not emperor. Just... the guy wearing the glove. Ddraig's the emperor. I'm more like... the driver?"
[An accurate analogy,] Ddraig rumbled, sounding faintly amused. [Though I prefer "partner."]
Mikan pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I need to sit down."
She dropped onto the sofa beside Issei, still staring at the gauntlet like it might explode.
Rito leaned in closer, eyes sparkling despite himself.
"So... does it have, like... cool powers? Can you shoot fire? Fly? Punch through walls?"
Issei flexed his hand. The gauntlet shimmered brighter for a second.
"Uh... yeah. All of that. And more. But it's... a lot. I'm still figuring it out."
Mr. Hyoudou's eyes rolled back, knees buckling like someone cut his strings. He hit the floor with a solid thump—newspaper fluttering down after him like a defeated flag.
The room went dead quiet.
Issei, Mikan, and Rito just stood there, staring at their father sprawled out on the carpet.
Issei rubbed the back of his neck, tail flicking nervously.
"I... guess we better not tell Mom," he said weakly.
Mikan and Rito nodded in perfect, traumatized unison.
"Yeah," Rito muttered. "She'd kill us. And then you. Again."
Mikan finally snapped out of it. She dropped to her knees beside their dad, checking his pulse with two fingers like she'd seen on TV.
"He's breathing. Just... passed out. Probably from the 'my son has a god-killing dragon glove' part."
Issei winced. "Yeah... that'll do it."
Together the three of them carefully lifted their father—Issei taking most of the weight with his newly strengthened arms—and carried him to the couch. They laid him down gently, propping his head on a cushion. The newspaper landed across his chest like a blanket.
Rito stared down at him. "Think he'll wake up and think this was a dream?"
Mikan snorted. "If he does, I'm not explaining the tail."
Issei sat on the coffee table, elbows on his knees, looking between his unconscious dad and his siblings.
"I didn't mean to break him..."
Mikan shot him a look that was half-glare, half-exasperated affection. "Baka-niisan, you came back from the dead with a wolf tail, glowing eyes, and a talking dragon gauntlet. Breaking Dad was kind of inevitable."
Rito flopped onto the other end of the couch, running a hand through his hair.
"So... what now? We just... wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn't have a heart attack round two?"
Issei's tail curled around his ankle. "I guess we let him rest. And... maybe don't mention the part where a Goddess of Destruction ordered me to train every day with Kirushia-san starting this afternoon."
Mikan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Kirushia-san? Who's that?"
Issei froze. "Uh... just... my new training partner. No big deal."
Rito raised an eyebrow. "Training partner. Right. And she's not, like... hot or anything?"
Issei's face went red again. "She's... uh... nice. Helpful. Very... supportive."
Mikan pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can already tell this is going to be a problem."
Issei gave a sheepish grin. "Yeah... probably."
The three siblings sat in silence for a moment, watching their father's chest rise and fall steadily.
Then Rito snorted.
"Man... our family is officially the weirdest one in town now."
Mikan sighed. "Welcome to the new normal."
After settling their father on the couch with a cold cloth on his forehead and a blanket tucked around him, the three siblings stood in awkward silence, still reeling from the "my son has a god-killing dragon gauntlet" bombshell.
Then—BANG BANG BANG BANG!
A loud, aggressive knocking rattled the front door so hard the frame shook.
Mikan jumped, eyes wide.
"Who the heck is bamming on the door like that?!" she snapped, already marching toward it with the spatula still gripped like a weapon.
She flung the door open.
Standing on the porch were three men in crisp black suits—earpieces, dark sunglasses, the full "government agent" look. Behind them loomed a much larger figure, half-shrouded in shadow.
The lead agent stepped forward, voice flat and professional.
"Issei Hyoudou here?"
Mikan's head whipped around to Issei, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Big brother... what did you do?"
Issei blinked, tail flicking in confusion.
"Nothing! Wait—who are those guys?"
The lead agent ignored the question, speaking directly to Issei.
"Issei Hyoudou, we're with the CIA. We need your help with a problem."
Issei stared. "Okay... but what do you want me to do?"
Before the agent could answer, a much deeper, rougher voice cut through the air.
"Allow me to handle this, boys."
The large figure stepped forward into the light.
He was massive—easily over seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, built like a walking fortress. Two golden, curved horns rose from his forehead. His short, slicked-back green hair gleamed under the porch light. He wore a sleeveless tiger-striped outfit—fur-lined, jagged patterns, more clothing. His skin had a faint bluish tint, and his yellow eyes glowed with predatory sharpness. He looked every inch like an Oni warlord who'd stepped straight out of legend.
The CIA agents immediately straightened, almost snapping to attention.
"O-oh yes, Mr. Invader," the lead agent said quickly, voice deferential.
Mikan's jaw dropped. Rito's eyes went comically wide.
Issei just stared, tail frozen mid-twitch.
Mr. Invader crossed his thick arms and looked down at Issei with a mix of amusement and appraisal.
"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!! My name Is Mr. Invader can we talk?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Now sitting at the coffee table were Issei, Mikan, Rito, and the towering gentleman named Mr. Invader. Flanking him were two of his personal guards—alien soldiers, each holding a sleek, glowing alien rifle at the ready.
Issei leaned forward, elbows on the table, trying to look calm.
"So... you're telling me I have to fight someone?"
Mr. Invader grinned, showing sharp fangs.
"Not quite, boyo," he chuckled, voice booming like thunder.
Issei's expression turned serious. He could sense it now—the monstrous Ki rolling off Mr. Invader like a tidal wave. It was overwhelming, oppressive, far beyond anything he could hope to defeat right now. This was a galactic tyrant who wanted to conquer Earth.
The CIA agent stepped in quickly, voice tense.
"They agreed to leave Earth alone... on one condition."
Mr. Invader's grin widened.
"Yep! If you win, we leave. Never to be seen again. But if you lose..." He chuckled darkly. "Well, you know what happens."
Issei swallowed.
"Okay... what is it then?"
Mr. Invader leaned back, arms crossed over his massive chest.
"Wait till the participant show up."
Issei blinked.
"Okay... But why me?"
Mikan leaned in, eyes wide.
"Yeah, why my brother?!"
The CIA agent adjusted his tie nervously.
"A computer suddenly picked him. Some kind of dimensional analysis algorithm. Said he had the highest probability of success."
Issei and Rito cried anime-style tears in perfect unison.
The Hyoudou family bad luck strikes again...
Meanwhile, high above Kuoh Town, a massive spaceship hovered silently.
A voice crackled over the comms.
"We'll be in position over the target momentarily. Prepare the transporter."
From the shadows stepped a beautiful young girl.
Slim legs, curvy figure, tiger-striped bikini barely covering her chest and hips. Green hair flowed wildly around her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and energy.
She floated forward, lightning crackling around her fingertips.
Back at the Hyoudou residence—
"This is crazy! Issei can't—"
"I accept," Issei said calmly.
"W-WHAT?!" Rito and Mikan yelled at the same time.
"Nii-san, think about what you're saying—!"
Issei turned to them with a confident smile—small, but real.
"Rito. Mikan. Trust me. I'm not the same idiot I was before."
Before anyone could argue further—
CRASH!!
A bolt of power lightning slammed into the front yard, cratering the lawn and sending smoke billowing everywhere. The whole house shook.
"W-What the—?!"
The smoke cleared.
Standing in the center of the crater was a beautiful young girl.
Green hair flowing in the wind, tiger-striped bikini hugging her slim, curvy body. Her breasts were full—probably C or D-cup—and her hips and ass were plump and perfectly shaped. She floated a few inches off the ground, lightning sparking around her like a halo.
She tilted her head, staring straight at Issei with wide, curious eyes.
"Whoa... your power feels so strong!" she said brightly, floating closer. "Lum felt something amazing from way up in the ship! You're the one Dad's talking about, right?!"
[Partner... for the love of—]
Holy shit, she's hot!
Issei's brain flatlined.
Green hair. Sexy curves. Nice set of tits. Plump ass. Tiger bikini.
His nose gave a warning twitch.