When Makoto Nishikado woke, the atmosphere in the room had taken on a peculiar edge.
Makima sat on the edge of the bed, stark naked, lighting a cigarette. She took a shallow drag and exhaled a thin cloud of smoke.
Wasn't this supposed to be the other way around? The post-coital cigarette was traditionally the man's move.
Still, beautiful women made anything look good. The image reminded him of that scene where Joey Wong blew smoke at Miyazawa Rie.
None of that changed the fact that Makoto had despised the smell of cigarettes in both his lives. His nose wrinkled, and he waved a hand through the haze.
"Hkk... hkk hkk!"
Two drags in, Makima broke into a coughing fit. She clearly wasn't used to it either.
"Sorry. You don't like the smell?"
She caught his expression and stubbed the cigarette out immediately.
"It's fine. First time I've ever seen you smoke, though."
She tilted her head. "I heard many people smoke after doing this sort of thing. I wanted to try it."
Many people. You mean humans.
Makima was gorgeous. That was an objective fact. But last night's experience had left something to be desired.
From start to finish, she'd worn the same vaguely puzzled expression, as though silently asking him: What's supposed to be enjoyable about this?
It had felt like sleeping with a mannequin.
And from last night until now, that expression hadn't changed one bit.
The truth was that psychology accounted for most of the experience. If you didn't consider the act something worth enjoying, the pleasure shriveled to almost nothing.
Makima, at her core, couldn't comprehend why humans derived pleasure from it. She possessed none of their desires, none of their emotional wiring. Joy was a foreign concept.
She'd gone through with it for one reason only: it was what the Chainsaw Devil's contract partner had requested.
Honestly, the only thing that had carried Makoto through the night was that face and that body, both otherworldly in the most literal sense.
He said nothing more. He reached up, cupped the side of her face, and studied her for a long moment.
"What is it?"
Her voice was soft, curious.
He answered with a faint smile, then got up and headed for the bathroom to shower and dress.
Even with his meta-knowledge of everything that was coming, changing this woman was a fool's errand. The two of them ending up on opposite sides was a mathematical certainty.
What a shame, Makima.
He emerged from the bathroom to find her setting down her phone, her tone as placid as ever. "The bureau called. The devil that assaulted Mr. Kudo has been apprehended. Want to come along?"
He nodded. They left together, though this time they didn't hold hands.
Makima seemed faintly puzzled by the change but didn't comment. She'd never understood the point of hand-holding in the first place.
Humans really are strange.
"You... you two!"
The moment they stepped out of the apartment building, a woman's shocked cry hit them from the side.
Yukiko Kudo stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the pair of them.
"Mrs. Kudo, it's been a while." Makoto smiled warmly.
Yukiko's shock didn't fade. They'd come out of the same building. Together. In the morning.
Makoto introduced his companion as though nothing were amiss. "This is Makima. She holds a senior position in Public Safety. She's the direct superior of both myself and your husband."
The words your husband landed oddly. Yukiko felt a pang she couldn't quite name.
But another thought shouldered it aside. "I got a call from Public Safety just now," she said urgently. "They said something happened to Yusaku. Is it true?"
Makoto blinked and turned to Makima.
She nodded. "Yes. Apparently there was an incident while he was serving as bait to lure a devil. These things happen frequently in Public Safety work. I didn't consider it significant enough to mention to you, Makoto."
"Let's go."
He said nothing more, gesturing for the two women to follow.
Yukiko stole a glance at the woman beside her, this strange creature who radiated danger and allure in equal, unsettling measure. She bit her lip.
She knew Makoto didn't live here. But coming out of the same building with this woman at the crack of dawn, they had to be... no, they were definitely in that kind of relationship.
In the middle of her spiraling thoughts, she felt a large hand on her rear.
Her eyes shot wide open. She stared in disbelief at Makoto, who glanced back at her with a sly grin.
Are you insane? Your girlfriend is right there and you're doing this to me?
Then she felt his finger tracing characters across her skin. Not random groping. Deliberate.
He was writing something: She's not as good as you.
The words detonated in her chest.
She's not as good as me?
In what way? Not as gentle? Not as beautiful? Not as good in... that department?
Her thoughts spiraled harder than before.
Then reality snapped back into focus. Wait. You're making comparisons? That's textbook scumbag behavior!
"We're here. Let's go inside."
Makima's voice yanked Yukiko back to the present. She looked up. Somehow, the three of them had already arrived at Public Safety headquarters.
They made their way to the floor housing Makima's office. The elevator doors opened, and from down the hallway came Yu Ishigami's gut-wrenching wail:
"Mr. Kudo! You died so horribly! I failed you! Waaaah!"
Makoto frowned. Why does that line sound so familiar?
The mention of Yusaku Kudo's name drained all color from Yukiko's face. She bolted down the hallway and burst through the office door.
Inside, a gurney sat in the center of the room, a white sheet draped over an unmistakable human shape.
Yukiko approached. Her trembling hands pulled back the cloth.
What lay beneath sent her staggering backward. Yusaku Kudo's lifeless eyes were shot through with burst blood vessels, and even in death, they screamed of fury and refusal to accept what had happened.
Makoto caught her before she hit the floor.
Himeno, standing beside Ishigami, wore an apologetic grimace. "Um, the hospital said... they did everything they could."
Still supporting Yukiko, Makoto asked, "How did he die?"
"That animal... that animal..."
Ishigami wiped snot and tears with one hand and jabbed the other toward the corner. "He was too rough. He humped Mr. Kudo to death."
Makoto, Yukiko, and Makima all turned to look.
The first two stiffened.
He had changed drastically over the past decade, but they still recognized him instantly.
Makoto Ito.
Seeing the man he hadn't laid eyes on in ten years, Ito's reaction wasn't defiance or hatred. It was fear. Pure, animal terror.
"No... p-please... don't kill me..."
His only thought was survival. He'd long abandoned any fantasy of possessing a woman like Kotonoha Katsura. As long as he had the devil's power and could still sate his appetites, that was enough.
"He must have formed a contract with a devil," Makima observed.
There was no way Ito could have done this on his own strength.
Ishigami opened his mouth to respond, but a ragged scream erupted from the doorway.
"Dad!!!"
Before anyone could turn, a wheelchair barreled past them and skidded to a halt beside the gurney.
"No! No! Dad! Why? Why?"
Shinichi Kudo's eyes bulged until they threatened to leave their sockets, refusing to accept the corpse in front of him.
Yukiko's heart ached. She moved to comfort her son, but a hand closed around hers.
She shot a glare at Makoto. What are you doing? My husband just died!
But what she found in his eyes was fierce, protective warmth. A look that said: I'll take care of you.
Her anger guttered out, smothered by a wave of security she hadn't felt in years.
Ten years. She'd carried this family on her back for a decade, alone.
Her feelings toward her helpless husband had eroded far past the closeness they'd once shared in the real world.
Shinichi needed comforting, sure. But didn't she deserve comfort too?
Makoto cocked an eyebrow at Ishigami. "Ishigami. Report."
Ishigami's face crumpled with guilt. "Last night, Mr. Kudo volunteered as bait to lure the target. But that animal Ito was faster than any of us anticipated. Before we could react, he'd already snatched Mr. Kudo and disappeared. By the time we found them, he'd already... he was already... that bastard had humped him to death! Bwaaah, hoo hoo hee..."
He buried his face in his hands and sobbed again, though that last hiccup sounded distinctly off.
Beside him, Himeno's eyes had rolled so far back they were in danger of detaching.
But she wasn't about to expose the act. Everyone in Public Safety knew Ishigami was Makoto Nishikado's right-hand man. Crossing either of them was a career-ending move.
For a measly few hundred bucks a month, playing with her life just wasn't worth it.
"You're lying!"
Shinichi's voice cracked like a whip.
From Ishigami's very first sentence, something hadn't added up. His father hadn't volunteered as bait. He'd been coerced.
"Are you questioning my subordinate, Kudo?"
Makoto's tone dropped to ice.
Shinichi's face went white. He swallowed whatever he'd been about to say and looked desperately toward Himeno. "H-Himeno, my father..."
Himeno pointed at Makoto Ito, bound and dumped in the corner. "He did it."
Whatever grudge match you people are having, leave me out of it. I haven't lied about anything.
Shinichi wheeled himself in front of Ito. The blood vessels in his eyes had burst. If looks could kill, Ito would've been flayed alive on the spot.
This monster hadn't just murdered his father. He'd also done that to him.
Wait.
Makoto Nishikado walked over and stood above Ito, looking down at him. "What devil did you contract with?"
He'd seen plenty of mother-daughter oyakodon setups in his time, but a father-son oyakodon was a first.
He was morbidly curious which devil had that kind of creativity.
Ito was too terrified to form words.
Makoto's voice erupted like a thunderclap. "Devil! I command you to show yourself!"
A ripple of light seeped from Ito's body and rapidly solidified into a shaggy, matted poodle standing upright on its hind legs, human-sized, wearing a grotesque, leering grin.
Makoto took one look at it and laughed. Of course. A horny poodle devil.
That explained everything. That explained everything perfectly.
The creature's resemblance to those viral videos of amorous poodles terrorizing their owners was uncanny.
"L-Lord Chainsaw, I didn't go after your friend on purpose! I had no idea he was connected to you! It was a physical need, you know? Y-you understand..."
The Libido Devil's legs gave out. Urine trickled down its fur as it stammered through its plea.
Any other devil could accept death, knowing it would cycle through Hell and reincarnate eventually.
But the entity before it was different. If the Chainsaw Devil devoured you, there was no comeback. You didn't just die. You ceased to exist at the root.
That was precisely why countless devils in Hell feared the Chainsaw Devil and wanted it dead. Its power was the natural predator of every devil in existence.
"Who said he was my friend?"
Makoto's lips curled with amusement.
"Huh?"
The Libido Devil's brain stalled, then euphoria flooded its face.
Not a friend? Then there's room to negotiate!
Makoto turned. "Makima, doesn't Public Safety usually bind captured devils into contracts with active personnel?"
The color drained from both Yukiko and Shinichi's faces.
Makima nodded. "That's right. Our ultimate objective is to defeat the Gun Devil. To that end, even the smallest increment of power must be utilized. Rather than killing these devils, having them form contracts with our people to strengthen our forces is the priority."
"Are you kidding me?!"
Shinichi's voice shook with fury. "He killed my father! And he... he did that to me! And you people want to let him walk?!"
Nobody answered him.
Makoto turned to the Libido Devil. "Well? How about it? Want to serve under me?"
"Y-yes! Lord Chainsaw is the greatest! The absolute greatest!"
The Libido Devil collapsed to its knees, crawled to Makoto, and began licking his shoes.
As far as it was concerned, any outcome that didn't involve being eaten by the Chainsaw Devil was a win. And now it was under his command? Life was about to get a whole lot better.
Makoto's smile didn't waver. "Then let's formalize the contract. Say: I give everything to Makoto Nishikado."
The Libido Devil hesitated for a fraction of a second, then steeled itself.
"I give everything to Makoto Nishikado."
The contract was entirely one-sided slavery, but the alternative was annihilation.
Watching the Libido Devil walk free, Shinichi nearly blacked out from rage.
He was certain Makoto Nishikado had orchestrated this specifically to torment him.
But he couldn't do a single thing about it.
Then another voice piped up from the corner.
"Wh-what about me?"
Every head snapped toward Makoto Ito, still cowering against the wall.
Right. The devil had an accomplice.
The Libido Devil scrambled to throw him under the bus. "Lord Chainsaw, I never wanted to do it with those two! It was this guy! He said he was into it! He kept insisting! I was practically forced!"
Anyone else hearing that claim would have choked. A human forcing a devil? The audacity of that excuse was breathtaking.
Noticing the tears brimming in Yukiko's eyes, Makoto shot a glance at Ishigami.
Ishigami understood instantly. He drew his blade and held it out to Shinichi.
Shinichi snatched the weapon. He threw himself from the wheelchair and dragged his body across the floor toward Ito.
The Libido Devil was untouchable now, absorbed into Nishikado's ranks. If Shinichi wanted to vent the inferno inside him, only one target remained.
The man who had killed his father. The man who had violated him.
This depraved, monstrous excuse for a human being.
Watching the legless figure drag itself closer, blade in hand, Ito pressed himself flat against the wall. Nowhere left to retreat, he started babbling.
"One night together makes a bond for life, right? Ha... ha... honey, you should remember the good times we shared!"
"I'll give you good times, you sick bastard!"
The blade came down.
But ten years of atrophied muscles, ten years without so much as standing, had left Shinichi with almost nothing. The slash carved away a strip of flesh but came nowhere near fatal.
It didn't matter.
He swung again. And again. And again.
"I'll carve you apart, you psycho! I'll carve all of you apart!!"
Slash after slash after slash.
Blood and meat sprayed across the floor. The onlookers behind him wore very different expressions.
Ishigami's face contorted into a perfect replica of the 'Faker holding back laughter' meme.
Himeno quietly turned her head the other way.
Makima watched with her usual blank indifference.
Yukiko covered her eyes, trembling.
Makoto pulled her close and held her tight.
And none of it registered with the man on the floor, dragging himself through the carnage, swinging his blade again and again.