The human girl looked at Mura with a naïve smile. Mura in turn mirrored her expression.

“I heard about the tragic murders recently on the news and, well… I felt called to pray for those poor girls,” Mura explained to her. “I asked a man nearby and he said a kind girl named Hangaku Amano could help me?”

“Oh certainly, sir! Right this way.”

Amano led Mura towards what looked to him like a long sink, making sure to turn to confirm he was still following her. Once they reached the sink, she held out her hand towards the water flowing from bamboo pipes.

“The chozuya is here, sir. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you kindly…”

Mura smiled as Amano walked away before turning to look at the water.

“You know what that’s for, right?” Lilith asked.

“No, what? Washing your hands or something?”

“Idiot! It’s for purifying your sins! Don’t you guys have similar customs in Yomi?”

“Well, duh! But I never paid attention to that kind of thing. I’m not the type for gods of any kind.”

Mura starred at the water in the basin before eyeing a cup immersed within. Wanting to grab the cup so as not to look suspicious, he reached into the water. The moment he did, the flesh on his hand turned a painful red across the submerged area. A scalding agony flared across his nerves as if he dipped his hands into boiling oil.

“Shit, what the—!?” Mura screamed out, silencing himself before regaining self-control.

He cradled his hand to ease the pain, taking a look to assess the damage. Sure enough, the water had left him with a nasty burn. It wasn’t anything too serious, but the skin ached furiously nevertheless.

“What just happened?! Did she attack you?” Lilith said in a confused yet worried voice.

“No… I don’t think so. I didn’t sense any Tamashiryoku from her when we met and I haven’t still. Even Shuten gave off a pulse when he attacked me,” Mura noted. “I haven’t felt right since I stepped through that gate, to be honest.”

“Makes sense. It’s a Shinto shrine after all. As long as we’re within the confines of this place, you’re in a plane protected by whatever kami took residence here. I guess a lot of precautions have been made to ward off demons… just never thought they worked when I was alive.”

Without warning, someone ahead of them pulled down on a large braided rope. As they let go, a loud thunderous bell rang out: its reverberations being felt throughout the entire shrine.

The echoes shot through Mura’s body like gunfire. The chimes were all he could hear, deafening everything around him. His heart felt numb as his internal organs vibrated with such savagery Mura thought they had been reduced to gelatin.

“Aaaguaahhh!!” Mura screamed out, his own voice distorting into an unnatural scraping noise like knives being sharpened.

Lilith quickly dragged him away as others looked on curiously and in disgust; thinking the man was being disrespectful. Mura writhed as he was escorted from of the area through another gate.

“Mura! What’s happening to you?! Are you okay?!” Lilith cried, catching her friend’s convulsing body as he collapsed to the solitary path they escaped to.

The demon shook and flopped like a fish wrenched from the ocean, gasping futilely. His face turned pale and moments after, he vomited onto the long grass beside him.

By this point the bell had long stopped and its effects waned on Mura’s tormented form. He gasped heavily for air, his skin drenched in a cold sweat.

“That bell… it must repel demons,” Lilith said, her lip trembling. “This is all my fault Mura, I’m sorry I didn’t remember…”

She began to choke up, the fear finally catching up to her.

“Sometimes because you look like me, I-I just forget that you aren’t a human… If I had my memories back entirely I could have remembered something so important before we even went in—”

Lilith’s tearful words were silenced with a single hand upon her leg. Mura nodded silently, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his coat.

“It’s not your fault… It’s my own for being careless. I can’t forget this world has its own dangers. So please, don’t blame yourself,” Mura reaffirmed, his voice natural once again.

Insects chirped and clicked around them, hidden in the tall grass and trees. Lilith regained her composure after hearing her partner’s voice. Taking a deep breath, Mura sat up and crossed his legs to find some comfort in sitting on the dirt.

“… Was it just me, or does she seem completely normal?” Lilith asked, breaking the building silence.

“I thought the same as well. There must be something more to this than we’re being told.”

Placing his chin within the grasp of his slender fingers, he mentally ran over his options. There was always the possibility he was being tested as Lamia’s past sentence rang true in his mind. The will of the empire is absolute. However, it could also have been misinformation. A simple error, caused by erroneous intel.

“Do we have to kill her? I mean, she seems like a nice person?”

“You seem nice too, but you’ve also stabbed a guy’s eyes out,” Mura jabbed.

“Still, that asshole deserved it! What did this girl do, cast a spell? We do that all the time…”

“Master Naraka said humans are dominated by curiosity. Mara told me humans are violent and manipulative…”

“And you’re just gonna go along with what you’ve been told? Come on, dude… You’re smarter than that!” Lilith stood up with an aggressive passion.

“You’re right… but this is still our mission. We need to investigate further. I was fooled just last night by a little girl. When I trusted her, she tried to kill me.”

“Fine then. But if Amano’s not a threat, we don’t kill her. Deal?” Lilith said, extending her hand out.

“Deal.”

He grabbed Lilith’s hand, pulling against it to lift himself to his feet. Dusting himself off, he turned to look at an elderly man coming his way.

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“Dear boy, are you alright?? I tried looking for you after hearing that pained scream!” the old man said, his limbs shaking as he scanned Mura up and down.

Mura eyed the man. A quick glance at his formal robed clothing told him the elder belonged to the shrine just as Amano did.

“I-I’m alright, thank you. I just have a... heart condition. The bell surprised me and the rest is history I’m afraid,” Mura said with an ashamed chuckle.

The old man bought the lie, laughing with him and placing a withered hand on Mura’s shoulder.

“I understand that, son. You’re too young to have such problems though, haha!”

“Trust me, I just have a young face,” Mura said with a laugh. “Say, tell me something. Aside from my incident just now, have you heard of anything strange around these parts? Anyone behaving oddly?”

The old man retracted his hand to scratch his bald scalp. Looking up in thought, he racked his mind for answers.

“Well, those murders are the only major thing. We’ve had quite a few mothers come in earlier this morning wishing for their daughter’s safety and protection. Nothing odd though…”

Mura shook his head in understanding, slipping both hands causally into his pockets.

“I see. Thank you for your time and concern, it means a lot.”

As Mura began to turn and walk away with Lilith, the old man exclaimed with a verbal gasp; having remembered an important fact.

“I do remember something now that you mention it! Lady Amano fell ill suddenly just yesterday! It struck me as peculiar because she just came back from an appointment last week. The doctor said she was as healthy as a horse!”

Mura raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

“Suddenly ill? She seemed perfectly fine to me when I talked to her?”

The elderly gentleman shook his head gently.

“No no, Lady Amano is her mother. Both mother and daughter work here at this shrine. Poor girl, still remaining in such high spirits despite everything…”

“Where is Lady Amano now?”

“Well, she’s been resting for nearly an entire day now. Hasn’t regained consciousness, but her daughter Hangaku said she’d visit nightly to pray until her illness passed.”

“I see, thank you again. I’ll say a prayer for the both of them,” Mura said with a slight bow.

The old man smiled back at him.

“May the gods bless you, son.”

The demon smiled and nodded wordlessly, returning to walking away along the trail.

❇ ❇ ❇

Charon Mortuary, Gakidō. Naraka stood silently across the street, looking out at the building with an umbrella in hand. It had seen better days. The grey stone bricks that formed its walls had brown stains running down the mortar like tears. It was a small and narrow building, sandwiched between two other large complexes on either side.

The rain pattered down on his black parasol, almost in a rhythmic tapping. Once the road was clear from any vehicles, Naraka strode across the black asphalt. Decades of grease and oil had soaked into the street, causing it to come to the surface in a shimmering sheen whenever a storm such as this presented itself.

Naraka neared the doorway, taking a few steps down the two stairs that lowered from the sidewalk to the front entrance. Shielded from the water by a small archway above, he closed his umbrella and turned the tarnished brass doorknob.

Once inside, he was greeted by the sight of a typical lobby. A few chairs and benches were present and the walls had been recently painted to distract from the slightly dilapidated interior. It was clear to most that this location was for only the impoverished and penniless, trusting their dead when there was nowhere else to turn to. The fact that a shinigami commander was currently being kept in such a location was the last form of posthumous dishonor.

“Hello?” Naraka called out, looking around the empty lobby for some sign of life within this modern crypt.

Sounds could be heard from behind a closed door ahead of him, as if the unseen person was frantically getting dressed. A chubby man stepped out from behind the door, greeting Naraka with a warm smile. Despite his round figure, he had a surprisingly gaunt face.

“Welcome to Charon Mortuary sir—“ the mortician said, stopping when he realized who was before him.

Swallowing his saliva, the round man got on his knees and bowed before the royal advisor.

“L-Lord Naraka! W-W-Why is someone of such prestige and renown gracing my humble abode—”

Naraka flicked his finger at the man, firing a green orb directly into the mortician’s torso.

The man’s eyes closed and fell to the floor. He wasn’t dead, but rendered completely asleep.

— I didn’t want to use that Nocturne spell, it only lasts ten minutes after all. Seems I’ll have to hurry. At least he’ll only think this was a dream and I won’t have to explain myself afterwards.

Naraka reached down and plucked a ring of keys from the sleeping man’s belt. Twirling them around his finger, he set his umbrella down on one of the chairs and walked into the back room the mortician arrived from.

A sterile smell hit his nostrils within seconds, a cocktail of disinfectant and fading cadaverine. He was present in a long hallway, with the mortician’s desk to his left.

—Call it a hunch, but the only way to confirm it is to find out myself.

Locating the morgue, he unlocked the steel door barricading his path and walked through as it scraped against the tiled floor. A mausoleum of freezers lined the unkempt walls as florescent lights illuminated the dim room.

He walked along the freezer doors, scanning his eyes until he found one that was labelled with Sierro’s name. Grabbing ahold of the bar present in front of the freezer door, he pulled backwards as a metal slab slid out; causing the door to slide upwards by the mechanisms within.

A black body bag had been hiding within the cool chamber along with a clipboard containing the condition of the body. Naraka lifted the board from the thick black lump.

The papers included had a full name, blood type, reason of death and a humanoid diagram visualizing Sierro’s injuries. An arm missing, a few minor scars and puncture wounds. Of course, the head in the diagram was blacked out to symbolize his decapitation.

—What were you hiding, commander? Why did Mara interrogate you personally…? Why did you seem so content until the last moment…?

He looked frantically for answers, flipping the paper over to the next page behind it. There was a brief report on Sierro’s condition, personal effects and autopsy.

However, something he read made Naraka’s heart skip a beat. The report showed Sierro’s personal effects confiscated from his person. Clothing, very little currency, a phone. Yet, something was mysteriously absent: a shinigami totem.

“Bingo,” he whispered to himself.

The shinigami totem was a small ivory-carved relic shaped like the letter ‘T’, usually no more than fifteen centimeters in length. Naraka knew that a shinigami always had their totem located on them at all times. This item alone was what allowed access to Nirvana.

Due to their value, shinigami were ordered to die protecting their totems before allowing them to fall into an enemy hands. The fact Sierro surrendered at all to police always rubbed Naraka the wrong way. Everything on this list seemed to further cement that suspicion.

—His totem should have been returned to Nirvana, yet no such reports were announced to us or HQ. If it was lost, we would have heard of that. Who would be mad enough to keep one anyway, especially since unlawful possession of one is punishable by death. Unless… it was given to someone freely?

The pieces were all falling into place, yet one remained missing. A motive for why Sierro would apparently betray his nation for a demon-led uprising. Naraka combed through the report, looking for something he missed. Sure enough, it wasn’t long until he passed over one little detail that he never even bothered to check the first time.

“What the hell…”

Underneath the classification for Sierro's race, the original listing had been changed post autopsy. A being identified as a hybrid of shinigami and demon.

“A Nephilim? But that’s not possible, the army of Nirvana would never allow a crossbreed to enlist… unless he kept it a secret?”

As the last puzzle piece clicked into place, Naraka's blood ran cold.

“Did he ally with Mara because he identified more as a… demon, maybe? This is worse than I could have ever imagined…”

It was treason, a coup orchestrated by the man now leading their nation into a new, unneeded war. Even still, this was only thoughts and reasoning. There weren’t enough facts to prove Mara was guilty. To even blow the whistle on something this large would certainly spell Naraka’s doom if he didn’t cover every possible base.

Unexpectedly from far down the hall, Naraka felt a surge of Tamashiryoku as the front door to the mortuary opened.

—Shit!

A woman wearing a crimson leather trenchcoat and square sunglasses walked into the building. It was Laz Larsa, accompanied by four other armed police agents adorned with tactical gear and weaponry.

“Burn it all to the ground. No one leaves alive,” Larsa commanded.