NOVEL WEB Ch. 70
The Sakura District Meat Processing Center churns through cattle and pigs day and night. Its packaged meat ends up in supermarkets, restaurants, and butcher shops across Akai City. Five million residents eat happy.
But there’s another side to this place. One the workers know nothing about.
Behind the loading dock, there’s a freezer unit nobody uses. Always locked. Always dark.
On paper, it’s just an overstocked storage space.
In reality, it’s a gate to hell. A weekly gathering spot for Demon cultists. A shrine built on rot.
Down a narrow stairwell hides the real facility. Not everyone gets to see it. Only the faithful. Only those with blood on their hands and secrets in their lungs.
It’s where the higher-ups of the cult meet. A sanctum for the worst of them.
And right now, someone’s walking through its damp, reeking hall.
Buckets in both hands. Meat scraps sloshing. Leftovers from the line upstairs.
She’s beautiful, wrapped in a beige dress that clings to her like skin.
Twenty-nine years old. Her name’s Suzuri Tomoshigawa. She leads the congregation here, one of the Ember Creed’s inner circle.
She reaches a steel door and calls out, voice soft, singsong sweet.
“Dinner time~♪”
The room lights flicker on. Chains rattle.
Demons stir in the dark.
“Grrrr~”
“Ooooohhh...”
“Hff, hgg, fgg.”
“Hehe, good boys~ Share nicely now~”
She watches them with a mother’s smile. Until two of them start fighting.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Her face twists, eyes bloodshot. She shrieks like a banshee.
The room freezes.
The two brawlers cower and scuttle into a corner.
“Sorry about that. I don’t want to get angry~”
She walks over and strokes one. Like a dog.
The Demons press close, hungry for approval.
She grabs one by the head. Splurch. Just rips it clean off. Tosses it away like trash.
“Oh dear. I did it again. Gotta break that habit. Oh well. You can eat it now~”
The rest of them swarm the corpse.
“Such animals. Hehe. So adorable♪”
She moves on, heading for the solitary cells.
Checks each one. The lights are low. Inside, people huddle in corners, hugging their knees. Weak. Waiting.
Blood sorcery. Injecting my blood to turn humans into Demons. Slower than Homura’s method, but mine makes them loyal. Trainable. I only use the elderly. No one looks for the old. No one cares. Society shrugs. One less mouth to feed. Their frail bodies toughen in the transformation.
She’s done this for years. Perfected it.
The mass abduction twenty years ago? The one that outed the Hidden Flame?
That was her. Nine years old and already a monster.
“Yes, yes♪ Everyone’s coming along nicely♪ I should be able to ship five next month.”
She notes it down and exits the cell block.
“Thank you for your work, Lady Suzuri. We have a message from Master Kurenagi.”
“Oh my. How exciting. Hello~ It’s me~”
She takes the phone, smiling.
She learns that Matz-Carlton’s been leveled. Kurenagi’s crew did it.
Her lipstick curls into a grin.
She hangs up, hands the phone back.
“What did they say, my lady?”
“They succeeded. He really is something else.”
“Master Kurenagi is a true believer.”
“I’ll take a bath. Tell Kuro of the Demon Sword we won’t be needing him.”
“So... we’re standing down?”
“That’s right. The Church’s Exorcists are dead.”
She soaks in a steaming bath. Grills Kobe beef. Drinks red wine. Dusts off her old records and puts on Pachelbel’s Canon.
“Ta-ta-ra-ta-tan~♪”
After dinner, she changes into nightwear and sprawls across a king-sized bed.
It’s ten o’clock, already bedtime. Skin health is important.
“Mmm~ What a perfect mood. One-Wing and Pebble—crushed flat. Not elegant, but it’ll do. I should thank Kurenagi. Shame about the lack of artistry, though. Wish he’d made them suffer more.”
The mother of Demons burrows into her blankets, closing her eyes.
She sleeps.
CRASH. Screech screech screech.
Suzuri bolts upright.
“What?”
Gunfire, shouts, and explosions. From upstairs.
Then—THUD.
The ceiling vibrates. Another blast.
She grabs her pistol from the nightstand. Loaded. Safety off.
Then the phone rings. Her lieutenant.
“What’s going on? What’s that noise?”
“An Exorcist! He rammed the front gate! With his car! He’s in the damn building—ahh! Hah! Bring bigger guns! Get—!”
Shouting. Gunfire. Screams. Demons roaring.
“I’ll be right there. Hold on!”
“Hurry—guahhh!”
“Hey!”
Then... silence.
Wet, muffled silence.
Then… the sound from the smartphone becomes clear again.
“...”
Her throat dries. She doesn’t know why, but she’s sweating.
Something’s off.
“…Who are you?”
No response.
Click. Call ends.
“Shit!”
She runs. Fastest route to the Demon nest.
Gunfire rattles nearby. They’re on this floor now. Getting closer.
She crashes into the broadcast room. Slams her hand on the mic.
“Special dinner, boys! Aoooooo—!!”
The speakers howl. Wolf-like, guttural, vibrating the walls.
“Grrraaaa!”
“Ooooooooh!”
“Gi… grrr!”
“Aoooooo!”
The cages explode. Steel screams. Chains snap.
Fourteen get loose. The rest stay chained.
Including the Demons that fail to break free, there are over thirty in the rooms on both sides of this corridor.
“Hehe. Come on, babies.”
She steps into the corridor. Her Demons crawl forward, tongues lolling. Fourteen of them, all slobber and steel.
“This is enough. Now let’s go. Let’s devour the Exorcist♪”
They follow her, slinking low. Hungry.
She leads them into the grand hall. Once a lavish reception area, but now just a pile of corpses.
“You certainly made a mess.”
She steps in, two Demons forward as cover.
In the center of it all, there’s a man.
Black coat, white shirt. Black tie, black slacks. Standard Exorcist uniform.
Looks formal, efficient, and bleak.
He’s standing on bodies.
Looks like hell. Covered in blood and dust. Like a man who fought a building and won.
Tall. Six-three. Black hair, black eyes. Face like a sculpture—but carved in anger.
Nothing warm about it. Just cold resolve.
He’s staring at her. Doesn’t blink.
Eight bodies in this room alone. All him. This one’s dangerous.
“Ikaku Akamuro. I know who you are.”
She takes a stab, half-guessing. He should’ve died in the hotel collapse.
“That’s right. And you’re Suzuri Tomoshigawa.”
He speaks casual. Reloads his rifle as he talks. Smooth, practiced.
She doesn’t even register it.
Sleight of hand. Camouflaged by small talk.
“Nice to meet a celebrity. How’d you find me?”
“Phones. Yours wasn’t very secure.”
“Hmm. Noted. Impressive detective work. But I know a few things about you too.”
He raises an eyebrow. Keeps reloading. Now a revolver.
“Like the fact you can’t use mana. No license either.”
“…You’ve done your homework.”
“Hehehe. How admirable. Fighting so hard for the Akai family when no one’s left, injuring yourself so badly, knowing you’re destined to eventually run out of strength.”
He slides bullets into a shotgun. Calm. Clean.
“Tomoshigawa. I’m giving you a chance.”
“A chance? In this situation? I’m intrigued.”
“I’ve got a mountain of questions. Answer them, and I’ll make it quick.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You’ll beg for death before it’s over.”
His eyes are bottomless. Not metaphor. Not poetry.
Just darkness.
She steps back.
Sweat trickles down. Her heartbeat’s a hammer in her ears.
He’s bluffing. I’m stronger. I’ve Ascended. How could I be inferior to some mana-less Exorcist? Besides, I don’t need to lift a finger. I’ve got fourteen Demons. This isn’t a fight. It’s pest control.
She does the math and tries to calm herself. Smiles.
“Hehe. Hehehe, you think that’s threatening? Going on and on like that. Do you enjoy making grand proc—”
Bang bang!
Rifle barks fire, all pre-emptive motion masked with Void.
The barrel flashes. Two heads explode.
Fourteen instantly becomes twelve.
He did it in plain sight. Right under her nose.
A high-speed assassination. Fluid and silent. He acted through her blind spot and struck like lightning.
How the hell did I let him shoot like that?!
“Kill him! Aoooooo—!!”
Twelve Demons rush forward, bounding off walls and ceiling.
The battle begins.