Highschool DXD : Gacha Life

My blood ran cold. Azazel—the Governor-General of the Fallen Angels, one of the most powerful beings in the supernatural world, was standing on my doorstep like he was here to borrow a cup of sugar.

I kept my expression carefully neutral, though my mind was racing through possible escape routes and whether I could get Asia and Valerie out safely if this went sideways.

"Sure," I said, stepping aside to let him in. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"That would be lovely, thanks," Azazel replied, his tone so casual it was almost unsettling. He looked around the interior of my house with mild interest, as if he was just a normal guest making polite conversation.

We settled in the living room, and I went through the motions of preparing tea while trying to figure out what he wanted. My hands remained steady as I poured, though internally I was on high alert.

"So," Azazel began, accepting his cup with a nod of thanks, "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."

"The thought had crossed my mind," I admitted, taking a careful sip of my own tea.

He chuckled, and the sound was genuinely amused rather than threatening. "I received a rather interesting report a few days ago. Apparently, four of my subordinates—Raynare, Dohnaseek, Kalawarner, and Mittelt—were eliminated. By you, if the reports are accurate."

I set down my teacup with deliberate care. "They attacked me first. I was defending myself."

"Oh, I'm not here to seek revenge or anything like that," Azazel waved dismissively. "Quite the opposite, actually. You see, I never authorized them to attack you in the first place."

That caught my attention. "You didn't?"

"No. Their orders were simply to keep an eye on someone in this area—routine surveillance, nothing more. But it seems they decided to take matters into their own hands when they discovered you had a Sacred Gear." He shook his head with what appeared to be genuine disappointment. "Honestly, some of my people can be so impulsive. They see a Sacred Gear and immediately think 'extraction opportunity' rather than following proper protocols."

I nodded slowly, going along with his explanation. It made sense, and frankly, I didn't want this matter to escalate any further than it already had. Having the leader of the Fallen Angels as an enemy would be a death sentence.

"I appreciate you clearing that up," I said diplomatically.

"Think nothing of it. Consider it a learning experience for both of us—I'll be more explicit in my orders going forward, and you've learned that you're quite capable of handling rogue Fallen Angels." He smiled, and there was genuine respect in his expression. "Speaking of which, I'm quite impressed by your abilities. It's not every day someone takes down four pure-blood Fallen Angels and lives to tell about it."

I remained silent, not wanting to give away too much information about my capabilities.

"In fact," Azazel continued, "I'd like to extend an invitation. How would you feel about joining Grigori? We're always looking for talented individuals, and someone with your skills would fit right in."

I considered the offer for a moment, running through the implications in my head. Joining Grigori would certainly provide protection and resources, but it would also mean answering to Azazel and potentially being drawn into conflicts I'd rather avoid. Plus, I had my own goals and plans that might not align with the Fallen Angels' agenda.

"I appreciate the offer," I said finally, "but I think I'll have to politely decline. I prefer to remain independent for now."

To my surprise, Azazel didn't seem offended or disappointed. Instead, he nodded as if he'd expected that answer.

"I figured as much. You strike me as the independent type. No hard feelings—the offer will remain open if you ever change your mind."

There was a moment of comfortable silence, and then I decided to take a chance on something that had been forming in my mind.

"Actually," I said, "while I'm not interested in joining Grigori, I might be interested in a different kind of arrangement. A partnership of sorts."

Azazel raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Oh? What kind of partnership?"

"Well, I know you're a very smart person," I began, choosing my words carefully. "And I've heard you have quite an interest in researching Sacred Gears."

He nodded slowly. "That's true. Sacred Gears are fascinating artifacts—the potential they hold, the mysteries surrounding their creation and distribution. I've spent centuries studying them."

"What if I told you I might have access to something that could be of great interest to your research? Something rare and valuable that could advance your understanding considerably?"

Azazel leaned forward slightly, his casual demeanor sharpening into focused attention. "I'd be very interested to hear more."

"I could potentially provide you with a bottle of a very sacred, rare liquid—something that can heal any ailments in existence. Complete restoration, no matter how severe the condition." I watched his expression carefully as I spoke. "In exchange, I'd like access to copies of your Sacred Gear research papers."

The Fallen Angel leader went very still. "You're talking about some kind of universal healing agent? That's... quite a claim."

"I understand your skepticism," I said. "But I assure you, it's genuine."

"Where is this miraculous substance?" he asked, and I could see the scientific curiosity warring with natural suspicion in his eyes.

I'd been prepared for this question. If I told him I could make it from ingredients, he might try to force me to produce more, or word might get out to other factions. That kind of attention was the last thing I needed right now.

"I have it stored somewhere safe," I replied. "If this arrangement sounds acceptable to you, I could show it to you next week. To prove its authenticity, I'd be willing to drink it myself right in front of you before handing it over."

"How many bottles do you have?" he asked.

"Very few," I said honestly. "This isn't something that can be mass-produced."

Azazel smiled, and there was genuine appreciation in his expression. "Clever. You're not giving away too much information, but you're offering concrete proof of your claims. I like that." He paused, considering. "Alright, I'm intrigued enough to agree to this arrangement. But I have to ask—why do you need Sacred Gear research papers? What's your interest in that particular field of study?"

I'd anticipated this question too. "I want to know what kind of Sacred Gears exist in this world. Knowledge is power, and understanding what I might face in the future seems like good preparation."

Azazel's smile widened, and I could see he understood the subtext immediately. "Ah, you want to know your potential opponents' strengths and weaknesses. Smart thinking. Know your enemy and know yourself, as the saying goes." He nodded approvingly. "I can respect that kind of strategic thinking."

He set down his teacup and looked at me with renewed interest. "But that raises another question—what about you? The reports I received were frustratingly vague about the specifics of how you eliminated my wayward subordinates. What Sacred Gear do you possess?"

I felt a moment of tension. How much should I reveal? Azazel seemed reasonable enough, but he was still one of the most dangerous beings in the supernatural world.

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