PLACE: Malak's House
TIME: 7:00 AM
Everything was in ruins — shattered walls, smoke, and silence. The once warm home now lay buried beneath the weight of tragedy. Amid the debris, a faint movement — Malak's body stirred. He groaned, covered in dust and blood, forcing himself upright despite the pain that shot through his ribs.
As he steadied his breathing, his hand brushed against something in his pocket. A letter.
He unfolded it with trembling hands.
"Go to Japan, and find Master Kiyoto."
It was written in his father's handwriting — the last thing his father had ever given him. Tears welled in Malak's eyes as the words blurred. He fell to his knees, staring at the lifeless bodies of his family around him. For a moment, he broke.
Then — he slapped himself. Once. Twice. Hard.
"No... No, no, no. I can't cry. I can't. I'm a man. Men don't cry through their problems — they face them."
The tears stopped, but something far darker replaced them — a burning vow.
"I'll find you, Louisel," he whispered, voice trembling with rage. "And I'll make you pay."
That same day, Malak withdrew what little money remained in the bank and booked a one-way ticket to Japan.
---
AFTER LANDING IN JAPAN
At the airport, a tall man in a black coat stood holding a board with "MALAK" written on it.
Malak approached cautiously. "Hey, do you know me? Or wait — are you Master Kiyoto?"
The man chuckled. "No, I'm not Master Kiyoto. My name's Shira Kataki. I'm here to take you to him."
Malak nodded. "Alright. Let's go."
As the car ascended a misty mountain road, Shira spoke. "This place is called Kamigami no Okiniiri — it means 'The Gods' Favorite.' People believe the gods themselves once lived here."
Malak gazed out the window. The view was breathtaking — endless forests, clouds brushing the peaks. For a brief moment, he smiled faintly.
"If only my family could see this..." he thought.
---
AT THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN
The car stopped. Shira stepped out.
"I'll be back in ten minutes. Don't wander too far."
Naturally, Malak wandered into the forest. The air was strangely heavy — too still. Then, in an instant, everything changed. The colors drained away. The trees darkened, the world twisted — shadows pulsing like veins.
Malak's heartbeat quickened.
"What the hell… is happening?"
A voice echoed from nowhere — calm, deep, and taunting.
"Hello again. My name is Louisel, the current Demon King."
Malak froze, teeth clenched. "You're not the real one. Stop using cheap tricks and show yourself!"
The illusion shattered. From the darkness emerged a massive creature — half beast, half spirit — and riding atop it, a man in battle gear.
"Who are you?" the man demanded. "And what are you doing here?"
Malak straightened. "I'm here to meet Master Kiyoto."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Then prove you're not here to harm him."
Without another word, the stranger lunged. Malak barely dodged a fist aimed at his head, but the next punch connected — hard. His glasses flew off.
Malak wiped the blood from his lip.
"Sir, I didn't want to fight you… but I guess I have to now."
A devilish grin spread across his face. His aura erupted — a jagged, fiery blaze swirling with rage. The ground trembled.
Before either could strike again, a torrent of energy split the sky — flaming meteors crashing between them.
"Enough!" Shira's voice thundered. "Malak, stop! This man is Rin Takame, the Fear Master. He protects this mountain from intruders. And you—" he glared at Malak, "—disobeyed my warning not to wander."
Malak bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Master Rin. I didn't know who you were."
Rin exhaled. "No, it's alright. I attacked first without asking. We're even."
"Good," Shira said, smiling. "Now, Rin, could you open the path to Master Kiyoto?"
Rin nodded. A shimmering door of light appeared, revealing a tranquil hot spring surrounded by blossoms. Steam rose softly in the mountain air.
---
THE MASTER OF THE MOUNTAIN
An old man was lounging in the spring, humming a tune. He turned as they entered, squinting.
"What are you two doing here?! Don't tell me you came to admire my magnificent body. Perverts!"
Malak and Shira exchanged awkward smiles.
"Master Kiyoto!" Shira sighed. "This is Malak — the boy you told me to pick up."
The old man blinked, then stepped closer, examining Malak from head to toe.
"Hmm… you really are Shahzad's son. Same face, same stance… and those eyes — the Eyes of Keen Observation. You can see through people, can't you?"
Malak rubbed his neck nervously. "Maybe…?"
Kiyoto grinned. "Yes, definitely his son. Come, join me in the hot spring. You've had enough pain for one lifetime."
Malak hesitated but obeyed. The moment the warm water touched his skin, the exhaustion melted away. His heartbeat slowed. For the first time since his family's death — he felt peace.
"You're wondering who I am, and how I knew your father," Kiyoto said softly. "All your questions will be answered soon. But for now… rest. Your body may not need sleep — but your mind does."
Malak nodded, eyes heavy. Within minutes, he drifted into sleep.
---
LATER THAT NIGHT
Kiyoto stood outside, speaking quietly to Shira.
"This boy… he carries unimaginable anger. Yet he's holding it back. If he had chosen the wrong path — not even we could stop him."
Shira bowed. "He chose right, Master. He came to us."
Kiyoto smiled faintly. "Good. Tell the others — the three of them. Malak is here."
---
THE NEXT MORNING
Malak slowly opened his eyes. His vision blurred, shapes moving around him. The first thing he saw looked monstrous — horns, hair sticking up, sharp shadows.
He yelped, grabbing a pillow like a sword.
"Back, witch! You demonic entity — stay away!"
The "monster" froze. It was a girl.
Her face flickered between anger, confusion, and amusement.
Then, a voice came from behind her.
"Look who's awake!"
Malak turned and gasped. "More monsters! You're her allies, aren't you?!"
The three figures clenched their fists.
"Put your glasses on, idiot!" one of them barked.
"I don't need glasses to see your ugly faces!" Malak retorted. "Filthy sewer demons!"
The girl — holding his glasses — scowled. "You mean these?"
"Don't touch them with your unattractive hands!"
The three men were ready to pounce when Malak finally put on his glasses — and froze.
The "witch" was… stunning.
Malak blinked. "Oh… hello, angel. You're not the witch. The witch must've run away when you came."
She rolled her eyes. "The witch is still here, genius."
He pointed at her, confused. "Wait — you mean you're—"
Before he could finish, he turned to the other three. "Hey… Keshav? Shivam? Nikhil?! You guys look… uh… great. Working out, huh?"
Keshav cracked his knuckles. "Sewer worms, huh?"
Malak backed away. "S-sorry! I didn't mean that! Honest mistake!"
The three lunged, chasing him around the room. After narrowly dodging them, Malak darted toward the girl.
"Sorry again for the witch comment. I'm Malak."
She crossed her arms, pretending to be annoyed but hiding a smile.
"The name's Tanko. Tanko Hima."