Prologue

“Could you p-please stop chasing me?!”

“Get back here, foul Demon!”

Through a narrow network of several alleyways in the heart of Tokyo, a hunt, as old as time itself, transpired. A young man with a face that embodied the phrase, “plain-looking”, ran—like his life depended on it.

He wore an unbuttoned black shirt with long sleeves. It fluttered violently behind him, revealing a white T-shirt underneath.

On said shirt, the kanji for “PEACE” was boldly illustrated on its chest. His all-black jeans clung tightly to his legs with every stride—each stride faster than any regular person should be able to move.

The square belt buckle of silver fastening his jeans barely had time to catch the light as he navigated through the pathways, desperately trying to shake off the entity chasing him. Even his boots burned as they made contact with the concrete beneath him.

“Seriously, please just stop!!!” he pleaded, picking up the pace. The air around him created cracking sounds, like that of a whip’s as he broke the sound barrier.

“Never in an eternity, foul Demon!” replied the strange young woman, dragging a giant great-sword with glowing golden accents tracing around the hilt, and running down a thin line on the flat of the blade. “I shall have your head!!!”

She was closing the distance faster than the frightened young man had anticipated, drawing a loud yelp as he once again hastened his steps—shocking his pursuer all the more.

● ● ●

A Few Minutes Earlier…

“Gotta remember to suppress my aura,” the man muttered in a low voice to himself, strolling through the bustling streets of Shinjuku, Tokyo. “I wonder if I should use False Face, too.”

He decided not to use it.

It would be more accurate to call him a young man—he still had that youthful glow that marked him as being in his late teens.

He was on his way to grab a bite at his favorite restaurant. His lips coiled into a sly smile while he walked through the masses,  not drawing any attention to himself.

People gave him all sorts of looks—some indecent, others spiteful—whenever they caught a glimpse of his face.

A loud boom made him stop in his tracks and turn to face the direction the sound came from.

“Oh…no…”

The words were heavy in his mouth. A situation he didn’t want to see. A situation he wanted nothing to do with. A situation…he couldn’t ignore…

“A robbery…”

Three figures wearing ski masks ran out of a burning bank nearby, holding large duffle bags that had notes of Japanese yen sticking out of them haphazardly.

Out of the group, one was noticeably larger, and more rotund. They all wore yellow jackets over black undershirts. The one worn by the biggest fellow looked about three sizes too small on his round, robust frame.

The other two were lanky, but still imposing as they were tall—easily standing at over six feet. They all brandished firearms. The robust individual, who appeared to lead the rest, carried a rocket launcher, while his subordinates carried lighter weapons.

The robust one barked, “Load the loot in the van before the cops show up!”

Following orders, his lackeys hurried to the vehicle with its two rear doors open, parked about twenty feet away along the sidewalk. A rather bold choice since they were outside during the middle of the day.

Should I just ignore them? Maybe I should—I can’t… Maybe I can! The cops—they’ll stop them, right?! He thought, craning his neck left and right—not a cop in sight. Oh, but what if a member of the Heroic Clan just happened to be around? I’d be in big trouble—but I can’t pretend I didn’t see this…

After overcoming his indecisiveness, he made his move—

Bwoosh!

He had completely vanished from where he stood, leaving a vacant spot on the sidewalk which was quickly closed up by the moving pedestrians.

“B-boss?! Your mask!!!” one of the goons shrieked, pointing at his boss’s now exposed face.

The boss’s hands shot up to clasp his freckled chubby cheeks, reddened due to the heat from under the mask a moment ago. His face jiggled as he swiveled his head, searching for the protective piece of clothing.

A patch of scruffy orange hair, glistening with sweat, sat atop his oddly pear shaped head. Then, the boss shook his head in confusion, shouting, “The heck’s wrong with you?!!”

He was addressing the punk who now suddenly had his ski mask over his head, standing with his arms crossed as his unbuttoned black shirt fluttered in the slight breeze—fidgeting a little, when he squinted at the boy.

“If you don’t want to get hurt, you better—”

The boss’s threat was interrupted as his head was flung backward with a bone-crushing crack! He didn’t even know what had sent him hurtling a few feet up into the air.

“—ack!” He crashed down to the concrete with a sharp cough, effectively knocking him out.

His goons watched from their spots with terror filled eyes. Their boss may have been slightly shorter than them, but they knew he certainly weighed well over ninety kilograms.

What kind of strength was needed to move such a man…?!

To make matters worse, the strange boy hadn’t moved from where he stood—only raising a clenched fist like he just given someone an uppercut.

“Why you!” screamed one of the goons, tossing aside his bag of stolen funds, and aiming his firearm—a Mini Uzi—at the bizarre boy in front of him. “Eat lead!!!”

The final goon got out of his daze, following his partner’s example. With a jolt, he quickly leveled his AN-94—

Gone.

The boy had left their sights the moment they blinked. Blinking again, they saw the clouds drifting along the clear blue sky—they were tumbling backwards through the air.

One slammed into a lamppost. And the other, into a fire hydrant. Their weapons were neatly arranged in a spot on the pavement—joining the boss’s own where it had been placed.

All of this happened within a matter of seconds, confusing all the onlookers who had now gathered on the scene.

Dang, I forgot to say something cool… Remembering a piece of advice he was giving some years ago, he scowled to himself. People raised several smartphones to start recording the incident. They would have earlier if they could follow what had happened. Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave—

Bwoosh…

A black ski mask now occupied the spot he had stood on the side walk, joining the collapsed bodies as the only piece of evidence that he was ever there.

● ● ●

He came to an abrupt stop multiple blocks away from where the robbery took place and he adjusted his hair with a content sigh—

His body now froze.

Behind him, he could tell that someone had tailed him. An occurrence that should be impossible, unless…

Slowly, he brought his hand over his face. Then, pulling it away, it revealed a beady eyed face riddled with acne, and a few other mild skin conditions. It looked odd when compared with the rest of his appearance, almost like it were a fake, but it seemed very real.

Next he ploddingly turned around to look at his stalker—a young woman.

She was exceedingly beautiful. Straight golden ran past her shoulders, stopping at her waist. Her crystal blue eyes were so clear, it was as if they weren’t real.

Her grey three piece suit was snug on her, showing her slender but well-built frame. His eyes wandered to her rosy pink lips—his first thought was that she might be a foreigner.

So pretty… Huh?!!

He snapped out of it when her suit faded into a blinding golden light that enveloped her entire body from the neck down.

A chest plate, with an opposing angelic wing engraved on either side shielded her chest.

Knee-high sabatons having feather-like markings tracing them adorned her legs. Her hands were saddled in gauntlets with similar markings that extended up to her elbows.

Her face was now traced by a sort of circlet with a carving of a sort of double gate on her forehead. Every piece of armor pulsed with a golden glow. Her hair spread out, defying gravity as it also began to pulse with a gold hue.

In her hand was a massive great-sword with ancient looking inscriptions along the flat of the blade that hummed with power. The length of the blade—as long as the person wielding it, and its width just as thick—was decorated with deep-blue accents that shimmered like precious stones.

Any part of her body without armor was covered with a white garment that stretched incredibly thin as it hugged her skin.

But the most worrisome part all this to him wasn’t the armor. No.

It was the black marking on the left side of her neck that showed a value…

IV

His entire body tensed as the world’s colors faded to a grey scale color palette, and everything around slowed to a standstill.

He spun himself to back her—breaking into a serious sprint that made it clear; he needed to escape.

“Stop right there!!!” she shouted, chasing after the very thing she exists to kill…

A Demon.