POV Narrator
The murmurs of civilians began to fill the air. People whispered among themselves, pointing at the mess of blood and demonic remains scattered across the street. The police had already cordoned off the area with yellow tape, making sure no curious onlookers got too close, while the department specialized in demon corpse cleanup took care of the grotesque task.
The metallic stench of blood still lingered in the air.
Isagi stood near the group, observing the scene with a slight frown. For the first time since arriving in this world, he began to seriously regret getting so actively involved in the story.
(Fucking Power… daughter of your demonic mother. I'd slap the hell out of you if Makima weren't here.) —he thought, keeping a completely neutral expression on the outside. Inside, though, he was more than irritated by Power's recklessness.
In front of him, Makima sat calmly on a wooden bench. Denji stood beside her, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, while Power—now far more submissive—avoided lifting her gaze. Makima's mere presence was enough to crush her usual arrogance.
"Hmmm…" Makima brought a hand to her chin, adopting a thoughtful expression, as if this hadn't been entirely within her calculations. "If Public Safety eliminates a devil that a civilian hunter was targeting, it is considered obstruction." Her voice remained soft, almost kind. "Normally, you would be arrested. Do you understand?"
Power immediately looked away.
"Power, you must think more carefully before acting," Makima added with chilling calm.
Then, without changing her tone, she slowly turned her attention to Isagi. He remained still, face impassive, like a statue.
"Isagi, you were in charge. You and Denji should know how to control Power."
"Huh?" Denji frowned, clearly offended by the unexpected scolding.
"As I told you before," Makima continued, resting her head on her hand, "Power is the Blood Fiend. She becomes excited by the smell of blood." A small smile appeared on her lips. "Perhaps… she isn't ready to be a Devil Hunter."
The atmosphere grew tense.
Power went pale. Cold sweat formed on her forehead, and panic took over. Acting on instinct, she lunged toward Denji, grabbed his arm, and pointed at him accusingly.
"He told me to kill it!" she shouted frantically.
"What?! What the hell are you talking about?!" Denji snapped instantly. "I never told you to kill it, you crazy bitch! You jumped the devil on your own!"
Chaos had returned… and Makima was still smiling.
(Wait a second…)
Isagi suddenly lifted his head, as if struck by divine enlightenment courtesy of basic logic.
"And how, exactly, is this supposed to be obstruction?!" he exclaimed, breaking the tense atmosphere. "The idiot who had the devil 'in his sights' was hiding like a rat inside a phone booth while calling for backup!"
He clasped his hands in front of his chest, fully entering lawyer-mode, because that scolding made absolutely no damn sense.
"Therefore, Your Honor," he continued theatrically, "the obstruction charge is officially dismissed. Since the civilian Devil Hunter was more useless than a pancreas in a person, we professionals had to handle his incompetence to prevent innocent civilians from getting hurt. And anyone who disagrees… can come catch these hands."
He ended his argument by placing his index finger over his lips in a clear shut it gesture—basically the universal meme of "let's keep that mouth closed."
Even though he'd phrased it in the dumbest way possible, Isagi's points were… valid. So valid, in fact, that Makima analyzed them for a second longer than usual.
"Hmmm…" Makima tilted her head slightly. "You're right, Isagi." A faint smile appeared on her face. "I didn't know you knew about the law."
Isagi: What we have here is pure balls, Your Honor. Case closed.
"Excuse me?" Makima raised an eyebrow.
Isagi coughed immediately. He'd gotten carried away. Again.
"I mean… I didn't think the scolding was fair," he clarified, lowering his tone. "Besides, I'm not very good at keeping my mouth shut."
This time, he was a bit more careful. The exhaustion, lack of sleep, Power's attitude, and the constant trouble she caused were starting to drive him insane. And that was without counting his own personal stupidity.
Isagi's patience was… dangerously close to running out.
Meanwhile…
Denji and Power started shoving each other like elementary school kids, blaming one another, shouting in each other's faces, pointing fingers.
"It was your fault, horned demon!"
"Liar, stinky human! You started it!"
Isagi, with the misunderstanding cleared up and completely detached from the childish drama, calmly slipped a hand into his clothes. From there, he pulled out a twenty-peso Gansito—intact, glorious, nearly sacred.
He opened it carefully, peeling the wrapper like someone unwrapping a treasure, and just as he was about to take the first bite—
BAM!
Denji and Power slammed into him mid-argument, hitting him squarely and sending the Gansito flying out of his hands and onto the ground.
Makima: …
Denji: …
Power: …
Silence fell instantly—heavy, absolute—like the entire world had just witnessed an unforgivable crime. Isagi stared at the Gansito on the ground. He said nothing. He didn't move.
Slowly… very slowly, he turned his head toward Denji and Power. An invisible pressure began to seep from his body—a dense, oppressive cursed energy that made the air itself feel heavy.
Now… now they had really crossed the line.
Makima watched silently. She immediately recognized what was about to happen: Isagi was genuinely willing to kill those two idiots for knocking his snack away. And it wasn't just any snack.
It was a Gansito.
"Well then, you little mutts just bought your ticket," Isagi said in a dangerously calm voice. "In previous chapters, I was already shown beating the shit out of demons worse than you."
In the blink of an eye, Isagi vanished.
The next instant, Denji and Power were lifted off the ground, each held by the neck with one hand, kicking helplessly in the air like useless dolls. Isagi held them effortlessly, as if they weighed nothing.
"Don't even pray to whoever's up there," he finished, tightening his fingers just a little.
The Gansito remained on the ground. Cold. Stepped on. And that… was unforgivable. Especially considering how expensive they'd be in the future—this act of aggression could not be tolerated. It had to be punished.
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End of the chapter.
