The rain in this world felt heavier than back home. It was cold, relentless, and it even attempted to soak through the black suit I was wearing.

  I stood in the cemetery, watching the other mourners leave for the reception. I had spent the morning preparing the spread—club sandwiches, antipasto, delicate finger foods designed to be digested while the heart was too heavy to eat.

  I cooked the fuck outta that funeral food, people almost forgot the Old Man died.

  I flexed my hand, staring at my palm. In the heat of the moment, when the Gate had opened, I had been arrogant. I thought I could just reach into Shiro's soul and sever the concept of Satan using the reality-warping essence of my Banshōman soul.

  But now, standing in the cold clarity of the aftermath, I did the math.

  Yea, It probably wouldn't have worked.

  My spirit was a star, but my body was still a vessel made of clay—a fifteen-year-old human form modified with demon parts. If I had tried to rewrite the laws of metaphysics to separate a God-like being from a human soul, the Spiritual Rejection would have been catastrophic. I wouldn't have just overheated; I would have been consumed by my own light, turning into literal ash before Satan was even displaced.

  I would have killed Shiro and myself, and Satan probably would have just laughed at my failure and got away by the skin of his wicked teeth.

  Well, you live and you learn, I sighed. I need to improve my body quickly.

  My pocket vibrated. It was Shiro's phone. I didn't answer it. I knew exactly who it was. I just stared at the screen as the name "UNKNOWN" flashed, and then the ringing stopped.

  A moment later, the air pressure in the cemetery dropped. It wasn't the rotting pressure of Astaroth; it was something heavier. Playful, but heavy.

  "Quite a tragic scene," a voice crooned from behind me. "Truly, a Shakespearean opening."

  I turned around. A group of men in black coats surrounded me—Exorcists. And in the center stood a man who looked like he had raided a costume shop in the 19th century. White suit, top hat, purple cape.

  Ain't no way he walked outside looking like this, I thought as I stared him down.

  "I am Mephisto Pheles," he said, tipping his hat. "I am a representative of the Knights of The True Cross. Regarding the death of Father Fujimoto... we have received reports that it was the work of Satan's spawn." He smiled, but his eyes were sharp. "That would be you, wouldn't it? Rin Okumura."

  The Exorcists around him reached for their weapons.

  Aye yo! They movin' like this?!

  "Now," Mephisto continued, holding up two fingers. "I'll offer you two options. One: We kill you here and now, eliminating the threat to humanity."

  He lowered one finger.

  "Or Two: You kill us and escape, living as a hunted fugitive for the rest of your very short life." He paused, waiting for me to panic.

  "Three" I finally spoke.

  Mephisto blinked. "Excuse me?"

  "I choose Option Three," I said calmly.

  "There is no Option Three," one of the grunts barked, drawing a sword.

  Aye, what's this bastard's problem?!

  "Option Three," I spoke over him, locking eyes with Mephisto. "I join your little club, I become an Exorcist, and I hunt down Satan."

  Mephisto's smile widened, amused. "An Exorcist, you say? Why would the Son of Satan want to become an Exorcist?"

  "Why not? I've got the motivation." I took a step forward, ignoring the weapons pointed at me. "And frankly, I think you want me on your side. After all, I'm a weapon you don't have to build."

  "A weapon requires maintenance," Mephisto countered. "Why should I take the risk?"

  "Because… I can cook," I stated.

  The silence in the cemetery was deafening. Even the rain seemed to pause.

  "You... can cook?" Mephisto repeated, looking genuinely confused for the first time.

  "I'm a chef. A damn good one," I said with absolute conviction. "Based on your attire, I'm guessing that you like the finer things in life. And what's finer than food made of Michelin star quality?"

  I reached into my pocket. The guards flinched, thinking I was going for a weapon. I pulled out a small, foil-wrapped package and tossed it to him.

  Inside was a homemade financier cake. Almond flour, brown butter, and a touch of honey.

  Mephisto caught it, sniffed it, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed. He stopped. And his eyes widened.

  "Texture... exquisite," he murmured. "The balance of sweetness..." He swallowed, then clapped his hands together, a manic grin spreading across his face. "Sold!"

  "Sir?!" the other Exorcists shouted in unison.

  "You heard the boy!" Mephisto twirled his umbrella. "We are going with Option Three! It's fresh! It's exciting! And it's delicious! Rin Okumura, welcome aboard."

  An hour later, I was sitting in the back of a pink limousine that was longer than my future.

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  Yukio was sitting across from me. He hadn't said a word since he got in. He was staring out the window, his jaw set tight. He was wounded, grieving, and probably wondering how I knew the Director.

  We've never really interacted with each other that much since I came to this world. I knew he was doing his secret Exorcist training, and I was doing my own thing. Even though we've lived together for so long, we felt like complete strangers to one another.

  "So," Mephisto said, pouring himself a glass of non-alcoholic champagne. "You seem remarkably calm for someone who just lost his father and narrowly avoided execution."

  "Panicking is a waste of energy," I said, leaning back. "And I need to focus on what's to come."

  Yukio turned to look at me, a look of pure disgust and confusion on his face. He didn't understand how I could be so detached.

  The car slowed as we approached the city outskirts. "Behold," Mephisto gestured grandly out the window. "True Cross Academy Town."

  I looked out. It was massive. A sprawling labyrinth of gothic architecture and modern infrastructure, dominating the skyline. It looked less like a school and more like a fortress designed by a mad architect.

  "It's huge," I stated.

  "It is a city within a city," Mephisto explained. "We have everything. Convenience stores, apartments, amusement parks. And, of course, the Academy itself."

  We drove through the gates, as the limo stopped in front of the main building. Mephisto led us out, his cape billowing in the wind.

  "Now, Rin," Mephisto said, pulling a large, ornate key from his pocket. "You are a special case. You will be attending the regular high school curriculum during the day..."

  "Tch, fuck," I muttered.

  "...and the Exorcist Cram School in the evenings and weekends," he finished, handing me a key. "This is the cram school key. It allows you to access the Cram School from any door. Just insert, turn, and voilà."

  I took the key. It felt heavy with a localized spatial distortion.

  "Yukio will show you to the dorms later," Mephisto said, glancing at my brother. "Isn't that right, Professor Okumura?"

  I didn't react. This was information I already knew, but I let a flicker of surprise cross my face for their benefit.

  "Professor?" I looked at Yukio.

  Yukio adjusted his glasses, finally looking at me. His eyes were cold. "I'm an instructor at the Cram School, Rin. I have been for two years."

  "Huh, look at you, moving up in the world," I said neutrally. "Does that mean I have to call you teach?"

  "In class, yes," Yukio said sharply.

  "Tuh, we'll see," I smirked.

  Mephisto clapped his hands again. "Excellent! The tension! The drama! I love it already. Now, chop-chop! Go get settled. I expect a gourmet dinner by 8 PM sharp, Rin. Don't disappoint me."

  He vanished in a cloud of pink smoke.

  Signed my soul away to a demon clown, what a world.

  I stood there with Yukio in the middle of the massive courtyard.

  "Well," I said, pocketing the key. "Lead the way, teach."

  We walked in silence. The campus was very eye-catching—manicured lawns, polished stone—but as soon as we headed toward the back of the grounds, the scenery changed. We stood in front of an abandoned building that looked like it belonged in a horror movie. Vines choked the windows, and the gate hung off one hinge.

  Ugggghhhhh! What the fuck!

  "The Old Male Dormitory," Yukio announced, stopping in front of it. "This is where we'll be staying."

  "You're joking," I said, looking up at the peeling paint. "The clown has a limo with a hot tub, but he puts us in a haunted house?"

  "It's the only building prepared for your… situation," Yukio said, unlocking the gate. "And it's rent-free."

  We walked inside. It smelled of dust and neglect.

  "You and I are the only residents," Yukio continued, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

  He stopped and turned to face me. The professional mask he'd worn in front of Mephisto cracked, revealing the anger underneath.

  "Rin, why'd you come here?"

  "Well, how could I pass up the opportunity to learn at a prestigious institution like this one?" I responded as I rubbed away the dust on a banister.

  "Don't screw with me!" he snapped, his voice rising. "You think this is a game? You're the son of the most dangerous demon! Father Fujimoto died protecting you! And now you just waltz in here, chatting up the Director, and act like nothing happened?! Has your humanity disappeared?! Do you not realize how much of a danger you are to everyone around you?!"

  I stopped walking and turned to look at him. I stood taller than him, my presence making the air around us feel thick. "I know," I said.

  Yukio blinked, thrown off by the lack of an argument.

  "I know I'm dangerous, Yukio-boy. I know the Old Man died because of me." I took a step closer. "That's why I'm here. I'm not here to attend school like a good little student. I'm here to use the knowledge ya'll have to erase Satan."

  "You..." Yukio grit his teeth. "You have no idea what you're up against!"

  "Maybe, maybe not. But I'm a fast learner," I said. "Especially when I'm motivated."

  Before Yukio could retort, I brushed past a precarious stack of boxes left in the hall. A glass vial sitting on top wobbled and fell. Out came a pungent, metallic scent that filled the air.

  "Shit," Yukio hissed, reaching for his guns.

  The shadows in the hallway deepened. A chittering sound erupted from the floorboards. From the cracks in the walls, small, goblin-like creatures poured out. Hobgoblins. Hundreds of them.

  "Get back, Rin!" Yukio leveled his dual pistols.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  He was fast and his aim was perfect, but there were too many. They swarmed over the walls like cockroaches, their eyes glowing yellow in the dark.

  "Save your ammo," I said, stepping forward.

  A Hobgoblin lunged at my face, but I didn't dodge. I caught it by the neck and willed the demon's life force to cease. It went limp instantly, its essence snuffed out like a candle.

  I tossed it aside.

  "Rin! Don't use your flames!" Yukio shouted, reloading. "If the Order gets word of your blue flames being used, you're dead!"

  "I don't need my flames for these guys. I have that under control," I said.

  Then I moved. I was a blur. I used the footwork and strikes I'd perfected, shattering their forms. But they were endless, piling up, blocking the hallway, trying to bury me under the weight of their numbers. I felt claws scratching at my jacket, teeth snapping at my legs. There were too many to punch.

  "Hmm, on second thought, maybe I do," I grunted, shoving three of them back. "Need to clear a path."

  I reached over my shoulder.

  "Rin, no!" Yukio screamed, seeing my hand go for the red bag.

  I grabbed the hilt of the Kurikara and drew the blade.

  I meant to do a simple horizontal cut—just a wave of absolute intent to knock them back. But the moment the seal broke, the sun inside me roared. It wasn't listening. The flames didn't just leak; they erupted, a hungry, divine force.

  BOOM.

  A wave of Blue Annihilation erupted from the blade.

  The shockwave didn't just kill the Hobgoblins. It erased them. It incinerated the floorboards, melted the wallpaper, and blasted a massive hole through the dormitory wall, revealing the night sky.

  Whoa! I thought, looking around the incinerated environment. That might have been a little too much heat.

  I stood there, holding the sword, looking at the devastation. The hallway was nearly gone. Smoke curled from the edges of the molten wood.

  "Oops," I uttered, slamming the sword back into the sheath. The blue light dying out instantly.

  Yukio was staring at me. His glasses were askew, his face covered in soot and terror.

  "You..." Yukio stammered, his voice trembling. "You call that control?!"

  I looked at my hands. My internal control was becoming a precision instrument, but the sword? The sword was a divine scepter tied to a collapsing star. And I didn't know how to turn the volume down yet.

  "Okay," I admitted, dusting ash off my shoulder. "Note to self: More sword training. Less... whatever that was."

  "You nearly brought the building down!"

  "I can see that. You know what else I can see? The lack of goblins here," I pointed out, stepping over a smoldering beam. "Now, come help me find the kitchen. I promised the Clown a dinner, and I'm not letting a little property damage stop me."

  I walked past him, heading deeper into the ruin.

  I need to master this blade fast, I thought grimly. My soul is ready, but this sword is a blunt force object. If I don't sync them up, I might end up accidently erasing the planet.