Ten minutes later, on the temporary podium set up in the indoor gymnasium.
“Next, let’s welcome this year’s Freshman Representative, Hojo Yoru-kun from Class 1-A, to deliver his address.”
At the principal’s announcement, Hojo Yoru stepped onto the podium from behind the curtain.
The moment he appeared, whispers rippled through the sea of new students.
“This Hojo-san is actually quite handsome.”
“‘Quite handsome’?
That’s way too modest—he’s super good-looking, right?
I wonder if he has a girlfriend.”
“Freshman Representative means he’s an honors student too?
Smart and handsome—I need to lock him down fast.”
…
“Hello everyone, I’m Hojo Yoru.”
He paused, letting the silence settle.
“The principal’s speech just now was too boring, and honestly, I couldn’t care less about Sobu High’s so-called history and prestige.
So I’ll keep this short.”
The new students below fell into stunned silence.
Most wore expressions of sheer disbelief.
My goodness.
Is he really that brave?
Sure, that bald uncle principal’s speech had been painfully dull, but publicly calling him out on the first day of school—as the Freshman Representative, no less—was beyond mere rebellion.
It was practically a declaration of war.
“Nice, Hojo~”
Unlike the students, Hiratsuka Shizuka—sitting nearby with her class—wasn’t angry at all.
She even lowered her voice in approval.
“All that boring nonsense, I almost dozed off myself.
And he even lectured me about my car not being ‘suitable for school grounds,’ making me park a mile away every morning.
That old-fashioned geezer deserves some criticism.”
Yuuki Asuna, overhearing this, felt her eye twitch.
This Hiratsuka-sensei and Hojo-san are truly a match made in heaven.
Both of them are…
eccentric.
And there’s even a personal grudge involved.
The plot on this first day of school is certainly full of twists and turns.
On stage, Hojo Yoru—having just finished his impromptu critique of the principal—scanned the curious faces below and continued in a measured, almost profound tone.
“A famous professional e-sports player once said: ‘Damage output must never stop for even a second.’ Life is about charging forward without looking back.”
Hearing this, Hiratsuka Shizuka, Yuuki Asuna, and the rest of the teachers and students all looked thoughtful.
That sounds quite inspirational…
but why does it feel like something is slightly off?
“OK, I’m done.
One last sentence.”
The teachers and students blinked in surprise.
His speech as Freshman Representative was already over?
Hojo Yoru smiled down at them.
“Let’s have a peaceful and beautiful high school life together.”
Ten minutes later, in the classroom of Class 1-A.
“A demon appeared at the nearby train station.
Fortunately, there were no casualties…
good thing my train doesn’t pass through there.”
“Really?
That’s scary.”
“Look, it says here—the Special Anti-Demon Action Section deployed and eliminated it before anyone got hurt.”
“As expected of Public Safety.”
Listening to the surrounding chatter, Hojo Yoru showed no interest in joining.
He stared out the window, lost in thought.
Whenever incidents involving demons occurred, official reports were always sugarcoated.
Before he’d intervened, the Bat Devil had already killed dozens of innocent people.
But the official statement claimed zero casualties and didn’t even mention the demon’s specific name.
This was the Special Anti-Demon Action Section’s standard protocol.
Though demons had physical bodies and could be eliminated by conventional means, their power was ultimately conceptual.
If the public learned the true extent of a demon’s damage and the concept it represented, fear would inevitably take root.
And that fear would empower the next demon born from the same concept when it eventually descended again.
So the handling method wasn’t wrong—it was necessary.
Hojo Yoru’s mind, however, was elsewhere.
He wasn’t replaying this morning’s battle for review.
A mere Bat Devil—he’d eliminated it without a scratch.
Nothing worth analyzing.
What bothered him was the other demon.
The one that had spoken to Yuuki Asuna.
No matter what concept that demon embodied, its behavior was anomalous.
According to the information Hojo Yoru had gathered within the Special Anti-Demon Action Section, all known contract-signing processes followed a similar pattern.
A human would seek out a demon—either its main body or an avatar.
If the human met the demon’s “preferences,” the demon would agree to a contract.
The price varied: some lost body parts after a single use, others only offered a patch of skin, equivalent to a minor scrape.
It all depended on the demon’s whims.
But it was always humans seeking out demons.
Never the other way around.
There had never been a recorded case where a demon approached a human first.
So what had appeared this morning?
Could it be that it wasn’t a demon at all?
Or perhaps, while this world’s demons closely resembled those in the original Chainsaw Man, certain individuals deviated from the pattern?
Or maybe—Yuuki Asuna herself was special?
Hojo Yoru’s thoughts circled, but he couldn’t reach a conclusion.
There was too little information.
After all, the supernatural entities he’d encountered so far were limited to demons and ghouls.
The full scope of this abnormal world remained frustratingly obscure.
At the front of the classroom, Hiratsuka Shizuka sat behind the podium.
Rather than starting the lesson, she announced that the first period would be free time for students to socialize.
Though she enjoyed slacking off, this wasn’t laziness.
Hiratsuka Shizuka wanted to observe her students’ individual personalities.
Her educational philosophy was simple: rather than obsessing over grades, helping students find their own path in life was what truly made an excellent teacher.
Just then, the girl sitting in front of Hojo Yoru—who hadn’t spoken to anyone all morning—finally gathered her courage.
She turned around, facing him.
Her hair was flaxen-pinkish, falling to cover both ears.
Even seated, it was clear she was very petite—the quiet, unassuming type.
Her eyes carried a cautious, almost timid unease, like a lost little animal that instinctively made others want to protect her.
She held out an open notebook with both hands.
Her fair fingers trembled slightly—whether from nervousness or something else—and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
[Hello, Hojo-san.
My name is Nishimiya Shoko.]