Kishibe spotted Angel soaring overhead, and he could detect the scent of the fire before he saw the rising plumes of smoke. As he rose from the plastic lawn chair he had been sitting on, it made a small noise. He showed no reaction when Yoshida materialized out of a puff of black ink, holding a pina colada and a tiki torch.
"The bait worked. I trapped a few fiends in the wildfire," Yoshida said, his attention drawn towards the smoke that was steadily increasing. "Quanxi got away. I managed to separate her from a few of her fiends."
Kishibe took a flask from his coat and downed its contents. Yoshida was aware that Kishibe was using devil blood, a practice some private companies engaged in by acquiring illegally hunted devils to create pills that augmented physical abilities. When Kishibe offered Yoshida a sip, the young man waved it away, choosing instead to take a long drink from his pina colada before tossing the coconut off the roof. "I like to do things the old-fashioned way."
Kishibe smoothly transitioned to the side of the inn's rooftop, readying himself for the next move. With precision, he launched himself off the inn's roof and landed onto the roof of another house, though not without causing a few shingles to crack under the impact. He chided himself, "A professional wouldn't make a sound."
As he moved, Kishibe detected a twang from his left side. Swiftly, his left hand shot out of his pocket, snatching an arrow by its shaft just as its blade was about to pierce his throat. With a swift, forceful motion, he snapped the wooden piece. "A professional wouldn't have messed up a sneak attack," he remarked coolly.
Kishibe's keen eyes locked onto the archer who had attempted the ambush. The man readied three more arrows, preparing to fire them at Kishibe. In response, Kishibe swung his arm in a wide arc, a glint of a blade reflecting the moonlight as it slowly neared the archer. In a fluid move, the archer shifted his weight to the right, deftly dodging the blade, which barely nicked the left side of his jacket. "You missed," he taunted, unfazed.
The old man lowered his hand, and another knife seemed to materialize from his sleeve and rest in his palm. The archer took a deep breath, activating his contract with his devil. To his surprise, he saw three devils clinging to Kishibe, one of which resembled a serpent wrapping itself around Kishibe's sleeve. Another appeared as a ring on his left index finger. "Two devil contracts," the archer guessed.
Kishibe, unimpressed, casually swatted the air around his sleeve and hands, causing the misty wisps of the devils to vanish. "Enough of a show. Whether you see them or not won't change a thing," he declared.
The archer, recognizing that subtlety wasn't working, dropped his bow and retrieved a combat knife from a sleeve on his arm, mirroring Kishibe's stance. Kishibe, with a wry grin, commented, "Trying to beat me at my own game? What a rookie."
Aki caught a whiff of smoke, causing him to turn his head upwards from his drink and to the right, facing the window of the diner. Makima, seated across from him, noticed his reaction and asked, "Is there something wrong?" Aki's attention returned to her, particularly focusing on her hand, which now rested on his.
Their shared milkshake, brought by Mr. Kashimoto with two straws in it, had been finished a few minutes earlier. Aki couldn't pinpoint what exactly was amiss, but he felt a growing sense of unease. He reached for his cell phone and flipped it open, discovering an emergency alert issued by the Public Safety Department. It read, "Several terrorist attacks in the following cities have been underway: Nara, Kyoto, Sapporo, Nagoya, and Yokohama. So far, six high-ranking members of Tokyo's Special Division 4 have been killed."
Aki rose to his feet, his mind racing with questions. "Was this the work of the assassins? Quanxi? The Soviets?" He continued scrolling through the notifications until a singular photo displaying a hooded man appeared on the screen. The sight of the man, not particularly well-known to Aki, didn't concern him as much as the firearm the person held. "Miss Makima, the-"
Aki could hear the maniacal laughter of the Future Devil, and his left eye throbbed with excruciating pressure, feeling like it might burst like a gasket.
In a terrifying premonition, he foresaw a few moments into the future: the window would be shattered by a hail of bullets, and armed individuals would storm into the diner.
"Get down!" Aki yelled urgently to the elderly couple, his intention to show his badge and then reach for Makima. However, in the midst of the chaotic moment, he had overlooked one crucial detail. A spare bundle of napkins from the dispenser that Mrs. Kashimoto had been refilling that had fallen to the floor had caught his shoe. This unfortunate snag sent him sprawling, and he face-planted towards the ground.
The window behind Aki shattered with a deafening crash, and a storm of bullets rained through the broken glass. Lightbulbs exploded, and their shards rained down on him. Aki watched in horror as Makima's eyes widened just before bloody holes and wounds began to appear all over her. Her body convulsed violently from the impact of the bullets, and she fell to the ground in front of him, her eyes locked in a shocked expression.
Aki's ears picked up two more heavy thuds coming from behind the counter. The diner plunged into darkness, and Aki's breathing quickened, his pulse erratic. He attempted to rise from the ground, using the table for support, and looked with dread behind the counter.
Mr. and Mrs. Kashimoto lay next to each other, their faces marked with fear. Aki's gaze fell upon a single bullet on the floor, and he picked it up, holding it between his fingertips. His expression remained blank, not even registering the manifestation of his sword on his back.
Aki's gaze fixated on the door, his ears tuned to the sound of footsteps gradually drawing nearer.
Three impeccably dressed gentlemen, all bearing identical scars on their faces, emerged from a car parked a little way down the main road leading to the town. The youngest of the three, Aldo, moved to the car's trunk and retrieved a sleek black, long-barreled .50 caliber sniper rifle, slinging it over his shoulder before rejoining his two brothers.
The eldest brother spoke first, giving instructions, "Aldo, you and Joey take up a position in the forest. If you spot anybody that isn't wearing a red tie, take 'em out." He pointed to his own chest, indicating the bright red tie that stood out against his black suit.
Soon, the eldest brother's appearance underwent a transformation. His usual messy, long hair changed into a neat black bowl cut. "You look so lame," Aldo teased.
The eldest brother chuckled, "I'm blending in with the devil hunter stiffs. Gotta look the part. We're immortal; I can worry about my looks after we get this 2 million and buy a yacht!"
The eldest brother sped off down the road, while Aldo moved towards the tree line. "The fire kicked up on the way here. I hope no one beat us here," Joey remarked.