The river mist still lingered faintly over Ishiyama as Oga trudged home, water dripping from his clothes, hair plastered to his forehead, and anger still simmering beneath the surface. Furuichi walked a few steps behind, muttering incoherently about how Oga looked like a drowned cat, and how he, Furuichi, was going to need therapy just from watching this disaster unfold. Oga ignored him. Right now, his mind was elsewhere—fixated on Beel, Kogen, and the consequences of the night's events.
When Oga finally reached his home, a mixture of apprehension and relief surged in his chest. He recalled his sister Misaki's warning with a sinking feeling: "Do not come back unless you bring them both!" She had made it clear that failure would not be tolerated. The thought of her fury made his steps hesitant.
But as he opened the front door, he was met with a scene that caught him completely off guard. His mother, father, and sister were gathered in the living room, smiling and calm. Hilda stood near the back, arms crossed, eyes narrowed but serene. Kogen and Beel were nowhere in sight, and the explanation that Hilda had given—about Kogen taking Beel back to his hometown—was neatly packaged as an excuse. Everyone seemed to nod and murmur in relief.
"Ah, welcome back," his mother said with a warm smile. "You should have told us sooner. Kogen has taken Beel to his hometown. We almost misunderstood. Thank goodness Hilda informed us."
Oga blinked, recognizing immediately that this was just a carefully crafted excuse. Hilda had intervened, as she always did, to prevent his family from panicking about demon-related events. He muttered under his breath, "Of course it's just an excuse..."
Stepping past the living room, Oga headed to his own quarters, fully expecting to be met with scolding or at least pointed glares. But the real surprise awaited him there. Hilda had returned from the Demon World, not alone this time, but accompanied by the imperial doctor, Forcas Rachmaninoff, and his assistant, Lamia. The doctor's presence radiated authority, his posture sharp, eyes focused, yet with a faintly eccentric air. Lamia, equally sharp, hovered behind him, observing with a mixture of curiosity and eagerness.
Oga froze momentarily, blinking. "The... the doctor? Here? For... Beel?"
Hilda's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed as she approached. "Idiot. Yes. For that exact reason. And you're going to pay attention, too. Don't screw this up." She muttered under her breath, "bastard..." in her usual tone of irritation-tinged affection.
Oga's concern surged anew. He wanted answers—about Beel's health, about the Zebel link, about what Kogen had done. He was silently relieved that Kogen had prioritized Beel's care, even if it meant leaving him in Toujo's hands for a while. But he also couldn't shake a tiny, uncomfortable pang of jealousy.
Hilda noticed the subtle tension and muttered, "Oga... you do realize Kogen is in the right. Leaving Beel alone even for a second could have been harmful. Why he went with Toujo... that's another question entirely, but at least Beel is safe."
Oga's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to protest, but the sight of Kogen's protective presence over Beel from the night before flashed in his mind. He remained silent, gritting his teeth, knowing Hilda's point was indisputable.
The room fell silent, heavy with anticipation, as Forcas Rachmaninoff stepped forward. He adjusted his glasses, peered over Oga with a critical gaze, and then turned toward the empty space where Beel was normally present. "We will conduct the initial examination in privacy. You, Oga, will assist as necessary. Your proximity and involvement may be required to ascertain the full nature of the condition."
Oga's heart skipped. "Privacy? But... Beel's not here?"
Hilda smirked slightly, "Of course not, idiot. This is a Demon World medical procedure. Only those who are essential can be present. You and I are essential. Doctor and assistant are essential. Everyone else, step aside."
Forcas Rachmaninoff moved to the examination table, which Oga realized had been subtly prepared even in his own room—an unusual level of precision that only the Demon World's imperial medical resources could provide. Lamia arranged instruments on a nearby tray, her gaze sharp and calculating.
"Now," Forcas began, in his measured tone, "let's establish the baseline readings of Baby Beel's condition. This will allow us to determine the flow of demonic energy and any irregularities caused by the recent illness." He gestured toward Oga. "You will administer the stabilizing drug. Care is crucial, for even a minor mistake can result in a feedback loop of extreme demonic energy."
Oga swallowed, nodding.
Oga felt a sting of guilt, imagining Beel's tiny form struggling with fever, his usual sparks of electricity now erratic. "Alright..." he muttered.
Forcas instructed Oga to inject a controlled dose of a Demon World serum into a small conduit that simulated the connection between Beel's energy and Oga's own body. The moment the serum was administered, Oga felt an immediate, sharp tingle in his veins. The room seemed to shift subtly, and for a brief second, he felt like he was stepping into another plane.
Lamia tilted her head, observing, "Fascinating. His body is absorbing the energy at a slower rate than expected. This may indicate a self-imposed block from the child."
Oga's brow furrowed. "Self-imposed block?"
Hilda, ever impatient, muttered, "Of course it's self-imposed, idiot. He's a demon child. He understands more than you think."
Forcas nodded gravely. "Indeed. It is called King Fever. The child's fever induced a surge in demon power, and in response, Baby Beel severed the link temporarily to protect you, Oga. His intent is clear: he believes the energy would be too overwhelming for you."
Oga froze, heart hammering. He realized the weight of the child's decision. Beel, even in his small, infantile body, had consciously chosen to protect him. Rage and guilt and a strange, unspoken warmth collided in Oga's chest.
"Wait... so... Beel... he's protecting me?" Oga muttered aloud.
Hilda's eyes narrowed sharply, but there was a faint softening. "Yes, idiot. He's been trying to protect you this entire time. Even when you think he's being difficult, even when he's shocking the furniture, he's aware of you."
Lamia, peering over her tray, whispered, "It is remarkable. The link severance is voluntary on the child's part. This is far more complex than a simple demonic bond. It is almost... emotional."
Oga's gaze dropped to the floor. His fists clenched. "I... I have to reconnect with him. I can't let this... continue."
Forcas nodded. "Exactly. That is why the dream-world induction is necessary. The serum will guide your consciousness into a state where you can reach Beel without the physical barriers his protective energy creates. You must navigate the electrical fields and energy patterns to reach him. Only you can restore the connection safely."
Oga's jaw tightened. "Got it. Let's do this."
Hilda muttered, arms crossed, "Idiot... don't get yourself killed. But... I suppose even you have to experience what it means to protect him fully." She stepped back slightly, letting Forcas and Lamia handle the preparation.
Oga's mind swirled as Lamia injected the specially formulated Demon World drug into his temple, its chill spreading across his skull and sending a shiver down his spine. Almost immediately, the room blurred, and his senses seemed to shift into a surreal, dreamlike state. The faint outline of electrical patterns pulsed around him. The air hummed with latent demonic energy.
He looked down—or perhaps around, though spatial awareness was different here—and saw a series of inscribed circles glowing faintly, shrouded in a protective electric field. At the center, Beel lay sleeping, tiny form tense even in rest, sparks of demonic energy flickering faintly around him.
Oga's heart clenched. "Beel... I... I can handle this," he whispered under his breath. Every step toward the center was accompanied by small jolts of electricity, testing his resolve. The closer he got, the more the field surged, reacting to his proximity. Each step demanded focus, courage, and patience.
The hours passed. Six long, tense hours, with Oga navigating the dream-realm's electrical hazards. Every movement required precision. Every misstep meant being shocked, thrown back, or worse. Lamia, observing the real-world side, whispered nervously to Forcas, "He hasn't awakened... is it possible he's—"
"For the last time, Lamia, maintain professionalism," Forcas snapped, though his eyes betrayed slight worry. "He is undergoing the process