“Eaten it as well while you were at it?”
Yuuki Asuna stared at him, utterly lost.
The words didn’t compute—not when her mind was still reeling from the impossible scene she’d just witnessed.
A boy her age, maybe younger, had dismantled a demon like it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Demons.
Supernatural horrors that had begun manifesting six months ago, without warning or explanation.
No one knew where they came from.
No one knew why.
The only certainties the government had managed to piece together were these:
The more a concept was feared, the more powerful the demon born from it became.
And demons never truly died.
Even if destroyed, so long as the concept they embodied persisted in human consciousness, they would eventually return.
Most of them—all but the most pitifully weak—harbored a twisted, virulent hatred for humanity.
They killed.
They fed.
They enjoyed it.
“Um…
may I ask who you are—”
She didn’t finish.
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Rhythmic.
Armed figures in tactical gear emerged from the station’s corridors, weapons raised, forming a tight perimeter around them.
“Don’t move!
Hands behind your head!”
Asuna’s breath hitched.
Her gaze darted to Hojo Yoru, worry flickering in her chest.
He saved me.
He stayed because of me.
And now—
Her mind raced, but it was a hamster wheel of panic—she was just a first-year high schooler, fresh off the train, fresh into independence.
What could she possibly do?
Call her father?
He was the CEO of a massive electronics manufacturer, but even he couldn’t—
No.
I’ll beg him.
Whatever it takes.
This person saved my life.
I have to—
“Don’t be nervous, everyone.”
Hojo Yoru’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, light and unhurried.
Asuna looked at him—really looked—and felt something strange settle in her chest.
He stood beside her, facing down a dozen gun barrels, and there wasn’t a trace of tension in his shoulders.
As if the firearms meant nothing.
As if they couldn’t hurt him.
“The demon’s been dealt with.
I’m a Devil Hunter with the Special Anti-Demon Action Section.
Here’s my ID.”
He produced a dark red card from his jacket and held it out.
One of the mobile unit members approached cautiously, took it, and flipped it open.
[Special Anti-Demon Action Section – Devil Hunter: Hojo Yoru]
The lead commander’s posture shifted instantly.
He signaled his team to lower their weapons, his voice suddenly far more deferential—even tinged with something like fear.
“Our apologies, Mr.
Hojo.
We were merely exercising caution.
I trust you understand.”
“It’s fine.”
Hojo Yoru waved a dismissive hand, then turned his gaze to Asuna—still on the ground, frozen like a statue.
“What are you doing?
Get up.
You planning to sit there forever?
Cosplaying as a Great Buddha?”
“Eh?
Oh—right!”
She scrambled to her feet and fell into step beside him as he strode toward the exit.
Behind them, the commander watched until their backs disappeared from view.
Only then did he release a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
His tactical gear was damp with cold sweat.
“Sir, why did you let them go?
We should have detained them for questioning.
Cleared them of suspicion before—”
“Shut up.”
The commander cut his subordinate off sharply, brow furrowed.
“Is this your first time dealing with a Devil Hunter?
Those people might look human, but they’ve signed contracts with demons—sacrificed pieces of themselves to wield demonic power.
You want to provoke one after confirming his identity?
Do you have a death wish?”
The mobile unit members fell silent.
Their eyes swept across the station floor—littered with gore and fragments of the dead—and a collective chill ran down their spines.
The demon had slaughtered dozens without breaking a sweat.
The Devil Hunter had killed it without a scratch.
Without even dirtying his uniform.
He wasn’t just a monster.
He was a monster among monsters.
Outside the station, the morning sun cast long shadows across the pavement.
Asuna walked beside Hojo Yoru in silence, stealing glances at his profile.
Now that the chaos had settled, now that her heart had stopped trying to claw its way out of her chest, she noticed things she hadn’t before.
He’s really handsome.
At 163 centimeters, Asuna wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t short either—average for a high school girl.
Beside Hojo Yoru, though, who stood around 183 centimeters, she felt almost petite.
His build was lean and athletic, the kind that spoke of regular training without veering into bulky excess.
His black hair was artfully messy, lending him a rebellious edge that somehow didn’t feel try-hard.
And his eyes—dark, always carrying a faint, relaxed smile—made her instinctively want to trust him.
This wasn’t the “actually quite handsome if you look closely” kind of attractive.
This was the kind of face that would turn heads even in a packed Shibuya crossing.
She bit her lip, mustering her courage.
“Um…”
“Hojo Yoru.”
“Ah—Hojo-san.
About earlier…”
“Let me save you some time.”
Before she could even form the question, he answered in a calm, measured tone.
“That metallic thing that appeared beside you—it was a demon.
Probably born from the concept of a ‘sword’ or ‘blade.’ It wanted to form a contract with you.
A contract means you pay a price—your life, your soul, even the very trace of your existence in this world—in exchange for its power.
What you said back there?
‘No matter what the price’?
That’s exactly what it was waiting to hear.”
“I see…”
Asuna nodded meekly.
She didn’t know the internal workings of the Special Anti-Demon Action Section, but she’d read enough stories to know that contracts with demons never ended well.
There was always a catch.
Always a twist.
Always a price too steep to bear.
Then she froze.
A complex look flickered in her hazel eyes.
She stopped walking, turning to face him fully.
“Then, Hojo-san…” Her voice was quieter now, laced with worry.
“Did you…
pay some kind of price too?
Just now—to save me?”