Inside the student council room, morning light slipped through the tall windows of Kuoh Academy, pale and cold. Papers were scattered across the long desk, along with an uncountable number of cups of tea.
At the window stood Sona Shitori, faint shadows under her eyes the result of not sleeping the entire night.
Since yesterday she had dispatched familiars, questioned high-ranking devils, cross-checked every government record, and even tugged on underworld information networks tied to the Sitri name.
But she had failed to find anything.
There was no birth record.
No travel history.
No Sacred Gear information.
Not even a rumor about him.
It was as if he had simply… appeared out of nowhere.
The door opened without knocking.
Crimson hair flowed in with a ripple of demonic power as Rias Gremory stepped inside, her expression darker than usual.
"Did you find something?" Rias asked.
Sona did not turn immediately.
"Unfortunately, I couldn't find anything. There is no affiliation, no family ties, no contracts. It is as if he never existed."
Rias clicked her tongue softly.
"If our families cannot identify him, then he's either extremely well hidden… or something far worse."
Sona adjusted her glasses.
"His problem is not being hidden." She paused. "It's his transformation."
Rias's eyes sharpened.
"What is so special about that?"
"Standing in front of him when he transforms," Sona said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "gives me the same feeling as a Holy Sword."
Rias stiffened.
"But he isn't holy," Sona continued. "It reeked of hell."
Silence fell between them.
Rias's expression hardened.
"Then perhaps I should have pushed harder to recruit him."
"No," Sona said immediately.
Her tone carried none of its usual softness.
"That power is not something a normal Evil Piece can contain."
Rias exhaled slowly.
"Then we could look for special pieces and give him a few more benefits."
"That won't work," Sona replied. "He is too greedy. Recruiting him would be like recruiting a master for ourselves."
Rias turned toward the window, thoughtful.
"I guess you are right," she murmured. "But there should be a way around it. If I can get him into my peerage, it would be easier to solve my problem."
Sona's gaze sharpened, wondering if she shouldn't have told her about Ethan's strength.
"Having someone like Issei in your peerage should already be enough. And even if you were reckless enough to use your body as leverage to recruit him… your fiancé would never allow it."
A flicker of irritation crossed Rias's face, then something colder.
"Do not talk about him," she said quietly.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as demonic power stirred beneath her skin.
Sona did not flinch. As her friend, she knew she needed to make sure Rias did not make a mistake.
Rias turned toward the window again, crimson hair falling over her shoulder.
"Sooner or later, I will get rid of him," she said, the words tasting bitter.
Sona adjusted her glasses, her tone steady.
"I am not reminding you about him. I am simply telling you what you cannot do with your body."
Rias's fingers curled slightly.
"Even if I despise that engagement," she continued, "I would not stoop so low as to use myself just to recruit someone who is only interested in my body."
A pause.
"…No matter how useful he might be."
Outwardly, her tone carried only quiet disdain. Inside her mind, however, the pieces were already shifting into place. There were several ways she could use him without ever offering herself.
Sona adjusted her glasses slightly.
"Then let's ignore him for now," she said calmly. "We will simply stay out of the current situation."
Rias exhaled slowly, tension leaving her shoulders as she made up her mind.
Silence settled between them again as both of them reached the same conclusion.
He might be strong.
But he was not worth sacrificing their bodies.
---
Outside, somewhere in town, Ethan was wondering where all the criminals were when you actually needed them.
Every now and then his gaze lingered on someone for a moment, quietly checking whether they had committed any crimes.
Unfortunately for him, most of the people he passed had not committed any serious ones.
He clicked his tongue.
"Should I just look for a prison? It should be filled with lots of people who can be killed," he muttered quietly.
Then suddenly—
He stopped walking.
A presence brushed against his senses.
It was overwhelming.
Ethan's eyes slowly shifted toward a man standing near a vending machine across the street.
Tall. Lean. Scruffy beard. A casual coat, like a lazy professor skipping work.
The man lazily pulled a drink from the machine and cracked it open.
On the surface, he didn't look particularly dangerous.
But Ethan could sense the sins clinging to his soul.
Maybe he could be the key to my success he thought.
The man took a casual sip of his drink before suddenly glancing sideways.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the man raised his can slightly in greeting.
"Morning," he said casually, like two strangers who had simply noticed each other on the street.
"Morning."
As Ethan replied, he slipped a thin chain from his pocket. It was nothing like the heavy Ghost Rider–style chain he would have preferred.
This one was different.
Thin enough to pass for ordinary jewelry, yet long enough to wrap around someone's neck if needed.
The man studied him for another moment, faint amusement flickering in his eyes as he sensed the sudden hostility.
As seconds pass civilians drifted away, pulled by the faint unease that always followed supernatural pressure. Within minutes the sidewalk that had been crowded only moments ago stood strangely quiet.
Ethan remained where he was.
Across the street, the man by the vending machine lazily finished his drink.
Azazel.
Ethan had already reached that conclusion.
Leader of the Fallen Angels, a side character who is going to teach Issei different ways to touch boobies which doesn't even make sense.
Ethan's grip on the thin chain tightened slightly.
Killing him would be possible.
Difficult. Dangerous. But possible.
The problem was there was no extra points.
For someone who needed to eliminate one hundred criminals, killing Azazel would still count as one.
From a purely practical standpoint, it was a terrible exchange.
Across the street, Azazel watched him with mild curiosity.
The air between them thickened.
Invisible magic quietly spread outward from Azazel like mist, subtle but ready. Layers of defensive spells slid into place without any visible movement from him.
Detection.
Barrier formation.
Spatial interference.
The sort of casual preparation that came from someone who had survived for thousands of years.
He tilted his head slightly.
"So," Azazel said.
His voice carried easily across the street.
"What are you waiting for?"
Ethan did not move.
His eyes remained fixed on him, calculating.
Azazel raised an eyebrow.
That reaction was… unusual.
Most people facing him either attacked immediately or ran.
This one was standing there like a merchant trying to decide whether a product was worth the price.
Azazel took another step forward, curiosity growing.
"Well?"
Ethan finally answered.
"I'm thinking."
Azazel blinked once.
"That's rarely a good sign."
Ethan spoke calmly.
"I need to kill one hundred criminals."
Azazel waited.
"…And?"
"You," Ethan said, studying him carefully, "would only count as one."
For a moment, silence hung in the air.
Then Azazel laughed.
"That's your concern?"
Ethan shrugged slightly.
"You are the leader of the Fallen Angels. Killing you would be difficult."
Azazel nodded.
"Reasonable."
"But the reward would still be the same as killing any other criminal." Ethan continues "From a cost-benefit perspective, it is a bad deal."
Azazel watched him for a moment, the faint pressure surrounding Ethan brushing against his senses.
It wasn't holy.
It wasn't demonic.
But something about it felt deeply wrong.
Azazel's eyes narrowed slightly.
Now that was interesting.
Instead of attacking, he simply sighed and lifted his drink.
"You know," he said casually, "if you're looking for criminals to kill, I might know a few places."
Ethan's gaze sharpened slightly.
Azazel shrugged.
"Think of it as professional curiosity. I'd like to see what you do."
For Ethan, the decision was simple.
Fighting the leader of the Fallen Angels would be troublesome instead taking his help to find a place filled with criminals was far more better option.
"Fine," he said.
Azazel smiled faintly.
"Good."
With the snap of his fingers Space twisted instantly and both of them disappeared from the street.