Death to you. A phrase the demon "Bloodstrider" Mura knows all too well; living out his unusual life as a would-be assassin in an unforgiving world. But in a twist of fate, Mura is exiled to Earth, stripped of his powers and is now hunted by those h...
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Dōtonbori, Osaka — 1:10am. The Golden Devil was exhausted and out of luck. He was down to only two locations left, with every other cabaret he had scoped out so far turning up nothing but disappointment. Taking a break to eat and rest his bones, Kishin sat on the ground; his stomach full from five grilled pork buns. He had already enjoyed a heavy meal at the rendezvous earlier, but his metabolism was abnormally fast even by demonic standards.
—That should tide me over for now. Nothin' like a midnight snack to get the cranial juices flowin'!
The street vendor who had sold Kishin the food starred wide-eyed at the blonde man sitting on the ground, now guzzling a beer after devouring the meat-filled delicacies like a starved wolf. The level of alcohol in the average human beer couldn't get Kishin inebriated, he was accustomed to the strongest and most exotic drinks in the underworld. This was simply a palette cleanser.
"Thanks for the food, ma'am!" Kishin said, grinning at her after wiping the leftovers from his face onto his sleeve.
"Of course! Please come again, sir! I-I'm happy you liked my pork buns so much!" she laughed anxiously, never seeing such a bizarre feat accomplished in person.
Kishin stood back up, dumping his trash into a garbage receptacle that chirped happily once it entered the chute. Stretching his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, he pulled the now-crumpled list from his pocket. Every unsuccessful stop was crossed off. The last two awaited him, with the closest nearby being a four minute walk.
—So this one... 'Muse', huh? Sounds like a boring, cheap-ass place. Uggghhh... Finding a Grafter is harder than I thought.
He reached into his inner coat pocket and felt the locket clasped in place, running his fingers over the metal for reassurance.
"Can't wait to sleep after this, darlin'," he yawned. "Back in my nice, big bed again."
The streets of the restless city had waned over the hours, reducing the number of pedestrians Kishin needed to wade through. At this time, most people were either in a bar or a bed, with the majority of folks walking next to the demon being drunk or homeless. Nevertheless, flashing ads continued to play on loop as one cycled to the next. The lessened noise of the former crowds led to each noisy advertisement becoming ever so clear to Kishin's ears.
Pushing his way past the marketing deluge of products, he walked onward toward the cabaret named Muse. He passed over a bridge, closing in on his destination. To his left were two businessmen, staring into the stream of dark water below and laughing.
For a brief moment, he felt a blip of Tamashiryoku drop within a kilometer of his position.
—Is someone here tryin' to hide from me?
Raising an eyebrow, he checked his surroundings; trying not to raise suspicion. After safely confirming they were nowhere near the vicinity, he adjusted his substream ring and made his way closer to the destination.
