The morning after his rebirth-through-destruction, Akuma walked into the heart of the western district of the Clouds of Azure—no longer shrouded in the numb frost of the eastern blizzards. His steps were steady, eerily calm, his expression as empty as a starless night. His body still hummed faintly with unstable energy from the Core of Azure, but Parallel Operation Level 7: Parallel Existence had dragged him from death by splitting him into an emotional spectrum that merged back into one whole. Now, as he approached the towering building ahead—an enormous stone-and-crystal structure shaped like a winged monolith—he quietly assessed the situation.
The Adventurer's Guild.The gateway to identity, information, and movement through kingdoms.To exist in this world legally… he needed their approval.
Inside, the guild was bustling with mercenaries, mages, beast tamers, and armored wanderers. The air smelled of iron, parchment, and mild arrogance. Conversations overlapped like static. Akuma walked past them silently, and though his expression barely shifted, eyes followed him—he gave off a presence that didn't match his apparent age.
He approached the registration counter.
A woman with silver-blue hair looked up from her documents, blinking twice as if his aura struck her physically.
Receptionist:"H-Hello, um… welcome to the Azure Adventurer's Guild. Are you here to… register?"
Akuma didn't speak at first. His gaze drifted, scanning the suits of armor hanging behind her, the glowing blue sigils on the walls, the faint spiritual residue on the donation box. He was analyzing everything down to material density and mana infusion.
Finally, he spoke, voice calm yet strangely heavy.
Akuma (calm, flat):"I require status validation for world traversal. Registration is necessary to prevent suspicion at national borders. Proceed."
The receptionist straightened her posture, startled by the strangely formal, almost archaic speech.
Receptionist:"…Right. Then, before we begin, the Guild requires the standard identity verification. Please provide your:— Full Name— Region of Origin— Identification Number— Aura Classification— Title, if applicable— And your Power Status."
Akuma paused.Identity? Region?None applied to him.
His eyes lowered slightly, analyzing the structure of her magical clipboard, scanning the magical ink flow, visualizing how the data connected to the main guild archives. He could alter it with Level 4 or Level 6—but not yet. He needed to blend in.
He met her gaze.
Akuma:"Name: Akuma Hoshi."He gave no hesitation. The name felt… empty, but functional.
Receptionist:"…Region?"
A long silence.
Akuma tilted his head the slightest bit, the smallest gesture of thought.
Akuma:"There is no region applicable to my origin. I arrived from an uncharted sector eastward. The area had no civilization, only storm wastelands. I do not possess formal identification."
Her eyebrows raised.No region?No ID?That was a red flag.
Receptionist:"…Then you understand that without ID, the Guild could label you as a potential threat, foreign agent, or unregistered anomaly."
Akuma blinked once.
Akuma:"Threat designation does not concern me. My intent is not destruction—unless provoked."
Her hands froze mid-writing.
Receptionist:"…Sir, please refrain from saying things like that."
A small pause. Akuma processed this.
Akuma:"Then I will modify my phrasing. I have no hostile motive at this time."
It still wasn't comforting, but it was… something.
She sighed and moved on.
Receptionist:"Power Status?"
Akuma tapped the counter once, lightly.The guild's mana sensors flickered.
Akuma:"Parallel Operation."
The pen fell out of her hand.
Receptionist (shaking):"…A—A what?"
Akuma elaborated, voice still monotone but clear.
Akuma:"A multi-framework ability with ten escalating sequences:— Level 1: Shapeshift— Level 2: Mental Initiation— Level 3: Osteokinesis— Level 4: Rewrite— Level 5: Double Check— Level 6: Analysis— Level 7: Parallel Existence— Level 8: Cloning— Level 9: Nullification— Level 10: Dimensional WarpingListing all is necessary for accurate classification."
She stared at him.He stared back, expression flat, as if stating the weather.
Receptionist (voice cracking):"…S-Sir… these abilities… these don't fall under normal adventurer rankings. Some… some of these are illegal. Some are forbidden. Some are… mythological."
Akuma did not blink.
Akuma:"Then classify accordingly."
Her hand trembled over the paper.
Receptionist:"…Aura?"
Akuma lowered his eyelids, channeling the faint residue of the Azure Core he absorbed. A swirling dark-blue, almost star-eating aura flickered around him for a moment—quiet, cold, infinite. The floorboards vibrated.
Adventurers nearby turned.
Receptionist (whispering):"…A pure abyss-coded aura… with Azure resonance… w-what are you?"
Akuma's answer was slow, soft, but chillingly sincere.
Akuma:"I am still determining that."
The hall fell silent.
The receptionist swallowed hard and stamped his paper with the sigil of PROVISIONAL REGISTRATION — HIGH RISK.
She handed him a badge glowing with faint blue light.
Receptionist:"…Welcome to the Guild, Akuma Hoshi.But… please… try not to cause… any international incidents."
Akuma held the badge between two fingers, examining it like an artifact.
Akuma:"That depends entirely on the world's cooperation."
And with that, he turned and walked deeper into the guild—toward quests, danger, suspicion… and the beginnings of a legend.
The guild hall had barely stopped buzzing from the shock of Akuma's unusual registration when a loud crash erupted behind him—chairs scraping, mugs falling, and a burst of vulgar laughter. Three A-Rank adventurers, overflowing with cheap confidence and the stink of entitlement, stepped forward with swaggering strides that screamed "we own this place." Their armor was polished but their expressions were uglier than unwashed floors—perfect examples of the classic high-rank bullies who compensated for lack of talent with unnecessary volume.
They circled him like hyenas around a silent, uninterested lion.
A-Rank Idiot #1 (Goran):"OY, NEWBIE! You walk in here lookin' like that and think you can just… register? No bow? No nod? No 'sir'? No respect? You think being calm makes you mysterious, huh?!"
Akuma didn't bother raising his eyes. He simply adjusted the newly-given guild band around his wrist.
Akuma:"…I do not understand the purpose of your noise."His voice was flat — like a blank page that refused to absorb the ink of their stupidity.
Goran turned red instantly.
A-Rank Idiot #2 (Rafa):"OOHHH HE GOT A MOUTH ON HIM!"He shoved Akuma in the shoulder. Hard.The crowd gasped—because Akuma didn't flinch. Not even a millimeter.
A-Rank Idiot #3 (Milo):"Tch. No reaction? What are you, numb? You think that makes you strong? Let's take this OUTSIDE. Guild rules—no killing inside!"
Akuma blinked once. Slowly.
Akuma:"…If moving locations reduces unnecessary noise, then I agree."
The three jerks laughed and dragged him toward the exit.
✦ OUTSIDE THE GUILD ✦
A circle of spectators formed instantly. The wind blew dust between them, carrying whispers like:
"That newbie's dead…""A-Rankers don't go easy.""Why provoke them? He should've stayed quiet."
Akuma stood still, hands at his sides, posture relaxed yet eerily straight—as if his entire existence was perfectly balanced on one invisible point.
The A-Rankers cracked their knuckles.
Goran:"ALRIGHT, QUIET BOY—LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN STAY CALM AFTER THIS!"
Without warning—A fist slammed directly into Akuma's jaw.
A clean hit.A heavy hit.A hit that should've dropped a normal adventurer.
Akuma's head turned slightly… then returned to center.Still no reaction. No emotion. Not even annoyance.
He touched his jaw with two fingers as if analyzing texture.
Akuma:"…Interesting. The force was unnecessary, yet ineffective."
Rafa:"WHAT DID YOU JUST—?!"
He lunged.Fast.Reckless.Stupid.
Akuma sidestepped so gently it looked like drifting snow.Rafa stumbled, confused.
Akuma:"…Your attack patterns are linear. Predictable. Inefficient."
Milo:"YOU— YOU MOCKING US?!"
They all attacked at once — fists, boots, elbows, a whirlwind of violent desperation.
And Akuma?
…He simply moved when needed.
A turn of the shoulder.A tilt of the head.A shift of balance.Just enough to avoid each strike with insulting ease.
The crowd erupted:
"What is THIS movement?!""He's not even fighting back! He's just… dancing around them!""No openings—no fear—what is he?!"
Goran became furious.
Goran:"STOP— MOVING— AND— FIGHT— BACK—!!"
He swung a wild punch at Akuma's ribs.
Akuma caught the fist between two fingers.
The world froze.
Akuma:"…I have already assessed your abilities. There is no value in prolonging this."
He lifted his eyes for the first time—Cold.Emotionless.Infinite.
Akuma:"You wished to test me. I will deliver the result."
And then—
—without anger—without haste—without emotion—without even breaking posture
He kneed Goran in the stomach.
CRACK.
The man collapsed instantly, vomiting air and pride.
Rafa rushed in.
Akuma grabbed his arm. Twisted.Pop.A dislocation so clean it almost sounded musical.
Milo froze in fear.
Milo:"W-wait— WAIT— OKAY, OKAY— we—we're sorry— we didn't—"
Akuma:"…Fear recalibrates behavior quickly. I understand."
He pushed Milo back lightly.Just a tap.
But Milo flew two meters as if struck by a hammer.
The crowd exploded—some cheering, some terrified, some trying to remember if they had properly registered this newcomer's existence.
Akuma turned away, his voice drifting like a dead breeze:
Akuma:"…Do not waste my time again."