In the evening, Hayakawa Aki took out her key and gently inserted it into the lock. With a soft click, the door opened.
"This is where we'll be living together from now on. Come in."
Hayakawa Aki stood at the doorway, stepping aside to make way.
Renji Kuroda pulled his suitcase in, looking around.
"This is really nice, much better than where I live. So many rooms."
"I didn't buy it; I'm renting it too. This house had ordinary people die here before due to a Devil incident, so the rent is very cheap."
Hayakawa Aki then stepped past Renji and looked at Denji and Power behind him, her tone carrying a hint of warning.
"Hey, the only reason you two can live with me is because you're fiends. I'm just monitoring you, so don't get carried away. Don't touch things randomly or break anything, or you'll have to pay me for it."
Power: "Got it, you're so naggy."
Denji, however, looked indifferent. She shrugged and said, "Whatever, I'll do whatever Renji Kuroda tells me to do. Anyway, I don't expect you to be particularly good to us."
After tidying up, Hayakawa Aki turned and walked into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Renji, Denji, and Power sat in the living room's kotatsu, waiting for the meal.
"Kobe beef! We're having Kobe beef tonight!!!" Denji excitedly tapped the bowl on the table with her spoon.
Power sat on the other side, playing with a small cat. The cat's fur was entirely white, and it looked very cute. It occasionally responded to Power's teasing, licking her palm, and Power would giggle foolishly whenever she was licked.
"Power, is your cat's name Meowy?" Renji Kuroda noticed the kitten and asked curiously.
"Oh oh~ Yes oh~ How is it? Very cute, right, hehe~" Power hugged the kitten with both hands, lifting it above her head, and laughed proudly.
"Mhm, very cute." Renji nodded, thinking to himself.
"It seems that because I killed the Bat Devil in advance, the original timeline changed, and Power successfully got this kitten back."
"Hey, Denji, stop tapping. The Kobe beef is all gone, and there won't be any more for a while. We're having curry tonight, Hayakawa Aki told me."
"Huh?" Denji was stunned by the news.
…
…
"Where are those two?" Renji Kuroda asked casually after finishing cleaning the dishes in the kitchen and returning to sit in the kotatsu in the living room.
Hayakawa Aki was sprawled on the table, still holding a beer can, her face flushed with intoxication, a hint of melancholy in her eyes. She mumbled, "Power went to sleep, Denji went to the bathroom."
"What's wrong? So down? Did something bother you?"
Hayakawa Aki gently shook her head, a bitter smile on her lips. "Nothing, just in a bad mood. Maybe too much has happened recently, and I'm a bit tired."
After speaking, she tried to take another sip of beer but found that the can in her hand was already empty. So she casually tossed it into the trash can.
Renji knew she was upset about Denji and wanted to comfort her but didn't know how to start.
Hayakawa Aki then pulled a bank card from her pocket and placed it on the table. She pushed it forcefully, and the card slid in front of Renji Kuroda.
"Here, Renji, this is the remaining mercenary fee, 500,000 yen, no password. Don't think you shouldn't take it just because we're colleagues now. You were a mercenary back then."
Renji took the bank card and, at the same time, pulled out the token with the Kun pattern from his pocket. He handed it to Hayakawa Aki and asked if she knew what it was.
Hayakawa Aki took the token and carefully examined the pattern on it. After a while, her expression turned pained as she tried hard to recall something. After a long moment, she slowly spoke.
"Oh, that pattern… that's a gospel book. I remember it's a folk underground church, called Man's Religion. They worship that, that… that legendary man, believing that he will eventually appear in this world and lead them to a new world. They believe in this, and this pattern is said to be a symbol of the man's identity. Any man will have this long thing."
"Man's Religion?"
"Yes, your gospel book is even gilded. Your status seems to be quite high, but we don't need to worry about this. This is for the police to handle. We are the Devil Extermination Division, specifically dealing with Devil incidents."
"Eh? Isn't this gold?"
"No, how could gold be so light? By the way, where did this gospel book come from?"
"Denji gave it to me. She said she got it from those mafias, those who were turned into Zombies by the Zombie Devil. They've all been killed."
Hayakawa Aki vigorously rubbed her head, trying to dispel the dizziness brought on by the alcohol, while also trying to recall the appearance of the Zombies they encountered in the abandoned factory early this morning.
"Oh, I see… In that case, it seems necessary to report this matter to Miss Makima."
At that moment, Denji walked out of the first-floor bathroom, rubbing her eyes, looking sleepy, and walked toward Renji Kuroda.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Hayakawa Aki said upon seeing Denji come out, and got up to walk toward it.
Denji sat down at the kotatsu. Seeing no one else around, she secretly reached out and took Renji Kuroda's hand. Her face flushed red as she lowered her head.
"Um… um, Renji, let's go to your room and sleep together. I want to touch you."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft as a mosquito's hum. She occasionally stole glances at Renji. Seeing her shy yet expectant expression, Renji couldn't bring himself to refuse. He gently took Denji's small hand and led her toward his room.
The two lay side by side on the bed, facing each other. Renji reached out and gently caressed Denji's cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin.
"Do you want to touch me now?" he asked softly, his voice low and intimate.
Denji's cheeks deepened in color. Her eyes darted nervously, lips trembling slightly. Then, with a shaky hand, she slowly reached toward Renji's chest.
Her movements were hesitant, painfully slow.
Seeing her falter, Renji lightly took her wrist, guiding her hand toward his chest. The moment was filled with quiet tension, thick with anticipation.
Just before her hand could make contact, Denji suddenly pulled back, hesitation flickering in her eyes.
"No… no, never mind," she murmured. "This is my only chance. I'll save it for later. Later… I'll touch you later."
"Hm? Are you sure?" Renji asked gently. "If you're going to regret it, it's still not too late."
"I… I'm sure!"
Just moments ago, a sly thought had sparked in Denji's mind.
If I say I want to touch Renji every day… I could keep living with him, even sleep in the same bed every night. And when he falls asleep… couldn't I do whatever I wanted? Anything I wanted?
Once the idea rooted itself, she couldn't shake it. Her heart raced, her breath quickened. Fearing Renji might send her away, she quickly shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Eventually, she heard Renji's breathing even out—slow and deep. He'd fallen asleep, exhausted from the day.
Only then did Denji dare open her eyes again. She swallowed nervously, then slowly reached out, wrapping her arms gently around Renji's waist.
"So comfortable…"
Her face flushed red, and under the soft bedding, her slender legs rubbed lightly together, overcome by the warmth and closeness.
Between short-term desire and long-term satisfaction, Denji chose the latter.
Four days passed in a blink.
Not much had happened during those days. Hayakawa Aki needed time to recover from her injuries, so each day, Renji and Power patrolled as one team, while Aki and Denji paired up. Nothing unusual occurred.
During dinner, Aki even commented on the rare streak of calm: four consecutive days without encountering a single Devil incident.
Still, she seemed mentally worn out—mostly because of Power. Power had a habit of falling asleep in the restroom, refused to eat vegetables and flicked them off her plate, didn't flush, used up too much toilet paper, and most critically, hated bathing. This led to near-daily arguments with Aki.
Denji, meanwhile, stayed mostly under Renji's care.
On the fifth day, the group stood before a tall, aging hotel.
"The Devil's in here somewhere," Hayakawa Aki said solemnly. "And it's no ordinary Devil—it's one that's consumed a fragment of the Gun Devil's flesh."
She held up a strange-looking bullet.
The surface of the bullet was etched with an eerie pattern. Looking closely, the designs weren't fixed—they pulsed subtly, like a heartbeat. They shimmered with an unsettling vitality, trembling in rhythm, as if alive and aware.
P@treon Rene_chan