Amon was not strong. He wasn't particularly smart or skilled either. He was a low-class yokai, a minor entity whose greatest talent was a complete lack of any real talent.
But if there was one thing Amon could claim with absolute certainty, it was that he had luck. Not just the good kind, but a volatile, tempestuous fortune that swung wildly between saving his life in miraculous ways and plunging him into unimaginable peril.
It was like living on the edge of a coin toss, surging with exhilarating fortune one moment, crashing into devastating misfortune the next. This capricious luck had saved his miserable life more times than he could count, and cursed it just as often.
Once, a collapsing building had miraculously missed him by inches, only for him to trip on a loose tile and break his leg seconds later. His was a chaotic, unpredictable force that ruled his pathetic existence.
When he was a young teenage yokai, filled with foolish dreams of glory and power, he had joined a gang with his friends. Back then, it was about sticking it to the humans and the soft, 'friendly' yokai who tried to live peacefully alongside them in Kyoto. Or so he told himself.
In truth, he was a lonely, unremarkable kid who desperately wanted a purpose. A name. A legacy. He wanted to be someone, to be feared and respected, to have a place where he truly belonged, not just as a footnote in someone else's story.
All it had earned him was a life branded as a rogue, a criminal, a stain on the supernatural community, barely above trash. He had once hoped to rise through the ranks of the formidable Flesh Ripper Gang to become one of the big dogs, but that fantasy had shattered fast when he learned he had no natural talent, no charisma, no raw power, no edge. Just luck.
So he drifted through the years as a grunt. Invisible. Unimportant. Coasting on luck and obscurity, taking scraps and doing grunt work like guarding lookout posts or running messages, a ghost in the shadows.
He had accepted that. He had even grown to like it, sometimes, enjoying the quiet anonymity that came with being a nobody, a person no one bothered to remember.
But now his luck had brought him here, to his current, horrifying predicament, pinned to a concrete wall by a massive, razor-sharp claw, staring into a pair of glowing red eyes that promised an agonizing, immediate death.
How did he end up here?
It had started innocently enough. Their boss, the mighty Shuten-dōji, had announced that they had secured the final tail of Hagoromo Gitsune, a prize that the cult of Hagoromo Gitsune had been searching for through countless generations. It was a moment of absolute triumph, a victory they had dedicated their miserable lives to. A glorious, clan-wide celebration was ordered to commemorate their success and the imminent return of their queen.
But Amon, in a moment of pure, unadulterated selfishness, had scored a date with a gorgeous yuki-onna that very night. There was no way he was passing up a potential romantic victory for some boring party, a decision that would prove to be the luckiest, and unluckiest, of his life.
He didn't get lucky in the way he'd hoped, the yuki-onna had left him with nothing but a cold shoulder and a lingering frostbite, but the decision to skip the celebration had, miraculously, saved his life.
By the time he returned to the hideout a few days later, a cold, disheartened mess, everyone was dead. The entire Flesh Ripper Gang, obliterated. The mountain itself was a scarred, pulverized ruin, with a lingering magical residue that made his skin crawl.
It was as if a comet had landed there, leaving nothing but a vast, silent crater where a vibrant, albeit criminal, community once thrived. The sheer magnitude of the destruction was awe-inspiring and terrifying.
He might've just moved on. Reinvented himself. Started fresh somewhere else, away from the gang life.
But no. Fate had other plans. He ran into one of the last people any yokai wanted to meet, Tsuchigumo, the hulking, monstrous right-hand of the very queen they had tried to resurrect.
Tsuchigumo, in his human guise, recognized him immediately. Apparently, they had crossed paths before on a low-level scouting mission that Amon had almost gotten himself killed on.
The disguised yokai grabbed Amon with a speed that defied his size and dragged him back to a hidden base, before slamming him into the wall. He stood over Amon, his true form beginning to emerge, a grotesque hybrid of man and spider, with a powerful, multi-jointed exoskeleton peeking from beneath his tattered robes. Red eyes glowed like burning coals, a terrifying, predatory glare that pierced Amon's very soul.
"Where is the tail?!" Tsuchigumo demanded, his voice a low, guttural growl, squeezing Amon's throat, the pressure immense.
"I-I don't know!" Amon croaked, barely managing the words, his face turning blue. "I wasn't there!"
Tsuchigumo's claws dug deeper, drawing thick, dark blood. Amon screamed in pain, the sharp, tearing sensation unbearable.
It was over. He knew it. His luck had finally run out. He was going to die a meaningless, agonizing death. Then, salvation came, a voice as cold as the mountain air.
A woman's voice echoed through the chamber. "Enough."
The pressure on Amon's throat vanished as Tsuchigumo paused and turned. The monstrous yokai's face contorted with displeasure, but he obeyed the order, his rage held in check by a power he respected.
"Drop him, Tsuchigumo. I know you're angry, but you need to behave."
Amon fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air, his whole body shaking, the phantom pain in his throat still immense.
The woman stepped into the light. Tara. Tall and graceful, with flowing black hair and an aura of cold. She moved with the casual ease of someone used to wielding power.
Tsuchigumo narrowed his many eyes in contempt, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Tara. What are you doing here?" he growled, the disdain in his voice palpable.
"Saving your thick skull from wasting our only lead," she replied coolly, a faint, condescending smirk on her face. She gestured to Amon with a graceful hand. "If he was there before, maybe he knows something. We don't have the luxury of killing everyone who might be useful, Tsuchigumo. Not when the Queen's return is so close."
"He said he doesn't know," Tsuchigumo growled, his massive fists clenching in frustration. "He's just useless dead weight."
"So what? Were you going to eat him anyway?" Tara asked, her tone light and teasing, but her eyes held a serious, dangerous glint.
Amon went completely still on the ground, his brain freezing in horror.
Eat? They were going to eat him?! The thought sent a jolt of primal fear through his core, a terror far beyond the pain of the claw.
"Yes," Tsuchigumo said without hesitation, his monstrous lower jaw unhinging slightly, revealing a row of sharp, stained teeth, as if the thought had been an easy one.
Tara tsked, a sound of mild exasperation. "Let's try a different approach, shall we?"
She walked over and crouched next to Amon. Her expression softened, but only slightly, a mask of false empathy. "You were there, weren't you? Not the night of the party, of course. But the days leading up to it. You must have seen something, some subtle detail, anything that could give us a clue as to what happened, to where the tail might have gone."
Amon nodded vigorously, too terrified to do anything else, his mind a panicked scramble of memories.
"Good," Tara said. Then her gaze hardened, turning to ice. "Because if you didn't, Tsuchigumo will get his snack after all."
The monstrous yokai glared but said nothing, he knew Tara was right. They couldn't afford to be reckless. The stakes were far too high.
"We need that tail," Tara said, her voice dropping to a serious, chilling tone. "It's almost time. The resurrection ritual will soon begin. If Lady Hagoromo rises without her ninth tail, she will be… incomplete. And very, very displeased."
That was putting it mildly. The thought of a newly resurrected yokai queen, hungry for vengeance and lacking a crucial piece of her power, was a nightmare scenario.
Her anger would be a force of nature, a terrifying storm of pure malice that would consume them all. Tara and Tsuchigumo, as her loyal lieutenants, would be the first to face her wrath, their own existences a painful echo of their failure. The thought of that potential failure was more terrifying than any enemy they could face.
Tsuchigumo nodded, a low rumble of assent. He despised Tara's methods, but he understood her logic. Failure was not an option. They both turned their attention back to Amon. He whimpered under their combined gaze, a low, pathetic sound. He was now their only hope of finding the tail, their only key to avoiding their queen's wrath. He had to remember something. Anything.
Kuoh Academy — Occult Research Clubroom
Rias Gremory sat alone in the dim light of the Occult Research Clubroom, her thoughts a tangled mess of frustration, anger, and a deep-seated fear. Her fingers tapped restlessly on her desk, the sound a sharp, rhythmic echo in the silent room.
Just yesterday, her so-called fiancé had visited. Riser Phenex. The arrogant, self-absorbed fool had flaunted his perfect peerage, his smug certainty of victory, and worse, the date of their wedding had been pushed forward.
She had begged her brother, Sirzechs, for time to train her peerage, to prepare them for the inevitable Rating Game, but it seemed time had run out. Her path was set. She was to be married, her freedom stripped away, her fate decided by others.
She stood and moved to the window, her crimson hair catching the last, fading rays of the afternoon sunlight. Outside, students wandered across the courtyard, blissfully unaware of the supernatural world that existed in their very midst.
Her gaze drifted toward a specific girl, a girl who walked alone, her backpack slung casually over her shoulder, laughing and talking with her friends.
Ayaka Takahashi.
At first glance, Ayaka was completely ordinary, almost forgettably so. Average grades. A loud, cheerful demeanor. Nothing about her screamed "supernatural." But Rias had begun to notice something else, a faint, yet undeniable pulse of magic, like a shimmering, protective cocoon surrounding the girl.
The first time she sensed it, she thought it was a fluke, a momentary distortion. But it was consistent. Steady. And the more she paid attention, the more convinced she became.
Ayaka had potential. Not just a little, but a deep, hidden power that Rias instinctively knew could be honed into something magnificent. A powerful Bishop, perhaps, or even a Knight.
She was a hidden gem just waiting to be discovered and polished. With a Pawn and a Bishop already added to her peerage who were still learning, adding another skilled member could be the key to her victory against Riser.
Rias wanted to approach her. Perhaps even ask her to join her peerage, to be a pawn, a rook, a knight in her chess game against Riser. But with the Rating Game looming, she had no time to train someone new, to start from scratch. Especially when Issei and Asia, her newest recruits, were still so inexperienced, so fragile, and needed her constant guidance. She couldn't afford to divide her attention.
Still... she would keep watching. The thought of losing this hidden asset, this incredible potential, was almost as bitter as the thought of her impending marriage.
After the game, if things went well, if she somehow managed to defy the odds, she would make her move. She would not let another asset slip away.
She would have to make sure that she doesn't lose, her future and the future of her peerage was at stake, her friends, Her family. And she would not fail..
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