After a long walk, Makima stopped and gestured to a modest building.
"Here we are — my lovely, humble apartment."
Kang Woo snorted, amusement and sarcasm soft in his voice.
"This isn't the first time I've been here with you. I have the precise coordinates. And yet the crybaby Control Devil made me walk for hours after I just saved you from the Crimson King."
Makima's smile went thin and serious. "Stay here. I'll be right back — as soon as possible."
Kang Woo's eyebrow lifted. "You mean you intend to go off and—what—kill your own seven dogs at home? What is wrong with you?"
Makima blinked, then replied, deadpan. "They dislike you and they fear you. Should I dispose of them, since you clearly don't like them?"
Kang Woo waved a hand, exasperated more than cruel. "They're just afraid of my corruption aura or whatever. Don't kill them. You don't need to resort to murder over hospitality."
Makima inclined her head slightly. "If that's your wish, I'm grateful. They're still my dogs, after all."
Kang Woo smirked "I'm not suggesting it. That brilliant idea was yours. Probably because you're so lovestruck by your husband."
Makima's cheeks colored faintly, "Just get into my apartment, shitty husband."
Kang Woo chuckled as he followed, deliberately needling her once more. "Right, O crybaby Control Devil."
Makima's apartment was good enough . The living room was simple—low table, carpet in the center, Kang Woo sat cross-legged on the carpet, posture relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world. Around him, her seven dogs lingered.. They acted normal. But not one dared cross in front of him or meet his eyes. Tiramisu, kept the most distance—body low, gaze darting anywhere but toward the Demon King. The fear was still there, primal and sharp, though muted. Kang Woo smirked faintly.
Makima probably tweaked their emotions, dulled the instinct enough so they wouldn't bolt outright. Clever, in her own way.
Then the familiar shimmer pulsed in his vision. The quest interface flickered alive.
A note—signed in the scrawl of arrogance only one being carried.
[Black King's Note]
What a lousy reward. A Fullmetal Alchemist Philosopher's Stone and an incomplete Hōgyoku. Truly beneath someone like you. Even with all that overcomplicated Kaisergesang… pathetic.
Kang Woo's eyes narrowed. He didn't answer. Just a long, controlled exhale through his nose. The same way he always treated the parasite's noise—background chatter, nothing more.
He let his gaze wander instead. Across the living room, his attention caught on a wall lined with shelves. Books. Dozens, maybe hundreds. A small library tucked into Makima's apartment—some novels, some old texts, arranged with neat precision. Decorative, maybe, but undeniably a trace of her.
Kang Woo smirked faintly. Compared to Delsgade—his personal flying fortress—and Antorus, the capital of Argus, Makima's little library was nothing. He could have filled halls four kilometers long with tomes of true knowledge, archives of worlds, chronicles of gods. But he never did. Maybe he was too lazy. Or maybe books just didn't matter to him anymore.
The interface pulsed again. Black letters etched themselves across his vision.
[Black King's Note]
Do you want the Emerald Tablet? I can transcribe it to you here and now. But in exchange , you and me to complete the Hōgyoku. I want to witness its desire materialization. To see what it creates when unleashed in your hands.
Kang Woo's thoughts curved into a mocking grin as his telepathy cut through the void.
What can an ego who's barely been awake for a few days—and already got humiliated twice by me—possibly have to show me?
The Black King's presence rippled in the interface, irritation flaring. But it calmed itself, forcing composure. Text scrawled across the system screen:
[Black King's Note]
The Emerald Tablet contains Black Magic, Soul Magic, Alchemy, and Necromancy. You want proof? Then allow me to show you a fraction of my splintered connections—directly from the Obelisk itself.
The screen shifted, images spilling forward like memories pressed into reality:
– Walpurgisnacht Witch Castle, its spires wrapped in layered barriers and esoteric formations.
– Ghost World Formation and Monster World Formation, entire realms interwoven as fortresses.
– Disaster World Formation and Underworld Formation, dimensions chained to calamity itself.
– Calamity World Formation, the apex, a seal that warped Mortal Beings .
And then the final vision—its true treasure:
The complete Philosopher's Stone, Emerald Tablet version. A flawless construct. A core of power capable of granting its wielder an unlimited pool of mana that never emptied.
Kang Woo exhaled sharply, his telepathic tone dripping with mockery.
Unlimited mana? He scoffed. I already possess immeasurable demonic energy—and infinite mana as well. Both of them, dumbass. Your so-called miracle stone is nothing but a trinket compared to me.
With that, he dismissed the interface. The system screen folded in on itself, collapsing into silence. Kang Woo turned his gaze elsewhere, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, utterly ignoring the parasite's desperate attempt to impress him.
Then—unexpectedly—Makima's voice broke the air.
Her tone was awkward, halting, but unmistakably hers.
"Happy day come to this world,
Happy day come to this world,
Happy day come to this world…"
It sounded like "Happy Birthday," but wrong, clumsy, almost childish. Kang Woo turned, and the sight nearly made him laugh outright.
Makima stood there in a neatly tied kimono, carrying a bowl of ramen with a single candle sticking out from the broth. The flame sputtered, the wax melting, and the candle was seconds away from drowning in the soup.
Kang Woo blinked. "Happy day come to this world? It's supposed to be 'Happy Birthday,' Makima."
Makima tilted her head slightly, expression serious despite the absurdity. "So this day is your happy birthday?"
Kang Woo's eyes widened. "Wait, wait—the candle's drowning!"
But she only continued, voice steady.
"Happy birthday to Kang Woo,
Happy birthday to Kang Woo."
Kang Woo sat there in silence, staring at the candle now fully toppled into the broth, half-dissolving in the soup. The scene was absurd, ridiculous, almost surreal.
He could only exhale, awkwardly watching as Makima finished her "celebration."
Makima's voice cut through the silence. Calm, steady, but a little awkward, as though she were forcing herself through something unfamiliar.
"Make a wish, Kang Woo."
Kang woo blinked, glancing at the candle that had already toppled into the ramen broth, flickering weakly as it drowned. The situation looked ridiculous. He gave her a funny, flat look.
"…The candle's been in the soup for fifteen seconds. You should make the wish, Makima. I don't believe in wishes."
But Makima shook her head. Her tone, firm yet strangely tender, pressed the words forward.
"No. You make the wish. This is my surprise for you. To encourage you. If you dream it, speak it often, one day it will come true. That's how it works. Even for you."
Kang Woo's eyes softened just slightly as he leaned back, half serious, half mocking.
"My wish is too great for even the strongest legends. A genie from a golden lamp couldn't grant it. Neither could seven Dragon Balls gathered from across the stars. The Holy Grail, soaked in the blood of seven Servants, is nothing but a monkey's paw. The magic muffin those two lunatic fairies offered me? Terrible at their job. Not even a time wish from Time Baby himself.."
He listed them off casually, like they were nothing but toys he'd already broken. His smirk widened.
"None of them could grant my wish ."
Then, without another word, Kang Woo leaned forward and blew the candle the way it was meant to be—simple, unceremonious. The tiny flame hissed out, leaving only a drowned stub in cooling broth.
Makima could only sit in silence. Watching. Listening. Because Kang Woo's words carried weight. A truth too heavy for wishes.
Kang Woo broke the moment with a dry chuckle. "Well… can I eat the ramen at least? That's the least respect I can give to you."
Makima snapped out of her thoughts, pulled back from the spiral of wondering what wish Kang Woo might have made. She nodded quickly. "Yes. Of course, Kang Woo. Enjoy it."
He picked up the chopsticks, preparing to eat. The gesture was casual, almost mundane, but Makima's eyes lingered on him with something heavier.
Makima's lips parted, her voice softer now, edged with quiet sadness.
"Kang Woo… even if you owned the entire world and everything inside it, would that truly satisfy you?"
Kang Woo paused, chopsticks hovering above the bowl. His gaze sharpened, then softened, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
"Makima… I already have multiple worlds. Entire territories. Argus itself is my backup planet. Even in this state, I still hold them. Maybe you've forgotten—I already offered you this planet on a silver platter. But you refused. All you wanted was to stay at my side. And honestly… I'm still surprised by that. Someone giving up their ambition and their goals—just to remain with me. Especially when your long-term dream was to wipe out devils with the Chainsaw Devil's erasure—yet you gave that up for this little… utopia."
He looked at her—the familiar yellow irises ringed with red. Usually they traded barbs; today, Makima was quiet, eyes on the bowl. Kang Woo dipped his face to the soup, took a careful sip, then slurped a single noodle.
The taste struck him like an arrow—ordinary, humble, and impossibly exact. For a heartbeat, a dozen faces crowded the edges of his mind, like moons rising behind a storm.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
First, a love from a forgotten loop whispered like distant thunder:
"Love always carries grief within it. And still, we choose it. To grieve deeply means we once loved completely. Open your heart as you once opened it to me, and you'll find a reason to keep moving forward. Even if we were born cursed… I believed we still deserved better."
Then came the wife who steadied him in some ancient cycle, the one who aged and died in peace, her voice soft as linen:
"Do you know why I chose you, even over humans and demons alike? Because you never stopped fighting. You always pushed past the limits—never satisfied with the box others lived in."
And last, a mischievous voice, sharp as a blade, slid through with a mocking smile:
"Let's play again, Battler Ushiromiya. Our witch-and-truth game isn't over. This time, make your wish real."
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
The voices clashed—love, counsel, challenge. The armor of a thousand lives peeled back to reveal something raw, fragile, human. Tears welled—not the black ichor he so often bled, but warm, ordinary tears. They traced down his cheeks in silence.
Makima's breath caught when she saw them. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.
"Kang Woo… are you—?"
Kang Woo tilted his head back slightly, and the sound slipped from him—an elegant laugh, low and rolling like an echo across old marble halls.
"kahahaHAHAHAHAHA…"
It was strange, poetic—an exhalation of disbelief. He had never expected Makima to catch him like this. To give him another kindness.
Makima arched a brow, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"…Is my ramen really that funny, Kang Woo?"
Kang woo laughter slowed, but the smirk lingered. He leaned forward, caught off guard but speaking with rare honesty.
"Many higher beings have tried to gift me their treasures," he said. "To bribe me—so I'd leave them in peace. Some tried to trap me, twist me into their schemes."
His gaze shifted to her, softer than his words.
"But you, Makima… you don't have treasures. You don't even have a throne. The Current You have nothing left but this small apartment. And yet—"
He gestured to the bowl before him.
"You poured your soul into a bowl of ramen. tried to speak to me with this—a message no divine artifact could ever hold. Your message was simple: 'Can you, just once, be grateful? Have you try to live a normal life?'"
Makima stayed silent, eyes fixed on him. But the faint curve at the edge of her lips betrayed her. She understood. And for once, the message had reached him.
Kang Woo exhaled, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.
"…Normal life, huh?"
"Yes," Makima said, her tone firm but gentle.
Kang Woo leaned back slightly, his smirk returning, though softened with something deeper.
"The character I once thought would only smile when the world was conquered… now says this. What a beautiful woman you've become."
Makima lowered her eyes for a moment, then raised them again, steady and unflinching.
"I never wanted the world, Kang Woo.. Not even my position—stripped away now. Once, I was the feared commander of Public Safety ."
Her lips curved, not in mockery, but in something painfully sincere.
"Now I'm reduced to nobody. That doesn't matter. I don't care if I'm not feared anymore. What I want is something I never had—intimacy. A family. And you granted me that, Kang Woo."
Her hand brushed against his sleeve, not in control, not in dominance—just connection.
"Even if you never gave me the Commandments, even if I never received the Quincy's power… with you is more than enough. You gave me something greater than control."
Kang Woo shifted slightly, his hand falling onto his thigh in a deliberate gesture. Open. Inviting. For him, it was rare—almost foreign—to let someone that close. But Makima understood. Without hesitation, she lowered herself, resting her head gently on his thigh.
"My journey will stretch far beyond this world. And one day… you won't be able to reach the version of me that walks ahead."
Makima's lips curved faintly against the fabric of his clothes, her words quiet but unwavering.
"Then I'll always follow you. I'll keep up, no matter how far you go. And just like you once told me—I'll grow stronger than you . That's a fact I've carved into my heart."
Her eyes closed, her breath steady, almost prayer-like.
"But… hold back for me, just a little. So I don't lose my way to you."
Kang Woo looked down at her, his voice quiet, yet edged with gravity.
"…It's time you really know about me."
makima head shifted slightly against his thigh, her tone tender, filled with empathy.
"Really? If it's too painful for you to say… then I would never dare push you. You've always avoided it for a reason, haven't you? If speaking it reopens wounds, then I'd rather you keep them closed."
For a moment, silence stretched, heavy as stone. Kang Woo's gaze hardened, his words carrying a weight that shook even the still air of the apartment.
"What I am… and the name I carry—Anos Voldigoad—itself holds weight and significance. More than you realize."
Makima slowly opened her eyes, meeting his without fear. Her lips pressed into a soft line, then she nodded. No mockery, no control. Just listening.
"I understand. Then I'll listen… to everything you choose to share."