Chapter 1
The Devouring Spirit is particularly fond of hamburgers.
Ahh . . . mmm!
A double burger, stacked with two meat patties, crisp lettuce, and bright red tomatoes, promised a filling meal.
Taking a big bite, Latimeria lit up with joy.
Delicious . . . !
Through a one-way mirror, Nanoka Furukawa watched her smile with glee.
Separated by a mirror, the observation room on the other side of the interrogation room was cramped and devoid of food. A thick arm draped over Nanoka's shoulder belonged to a middle-aged man who reeked of tobacco.
Every time Detective Kinugawa spoke, Nanoka could feel the man's weight leaning into him.
You can't really tell with these Magatsukami. That cute one looks only fourteen or fifteen, don't you think?
So, she's not human then?
A slap rang out.
Don't play dumb, Furukawa. We know all about you. A renegade walking around with a Magatsukami, boldly entering into a police station—that's some nerve. What were you planning to do with her?
I wasn't planning to do anything, actually.
Nanoka took a slap in the face the moment he opened his mouth. Pressing his lips together, he was displeased.
Handcuffed, he had come to the police station to meet someone, but they had restrained him without explanation. No formal charges were stated, but there were plenty of ideas that he could take a guess at.
The immediate issue was that he had brought a Magatsukami—humanity's natural enemy—with him, and on the other side of the one-way mirror, one of them was choking on a hamburger.
The interrogation room door opened and a young female detective entered, holding a box of donuts that caught Latimeria's eye.
What's that? Can I have some?!
Her excited voice echoed through the speaker into the observation room.
Detective Kinugawa pulled out a crumpled cigarette from his breast pocket. Striking a match and lighting it, a young detective in the corner, taking notes, spoke up.
This is a non-smoking area.
He spoke in a loud voice.
Shut it. If you have a problem, get out!
. . .
The young detective adjusted his glasses and tacitly accepted Kinugawa's behavior.
Nanoka noticed his dissatisfaction and realized that this room was under Kinugawa's control. Unbothered by anyone around him, Kinugawa freely puffed away at his cigarette.
If you spot a Magatsukami, report it immediately. This is a duty imposed on the citizens of this country. The Prayer Priests from the association will be here soon, so don't take it the wrong way.
Just then, the door to the interrogation room was violently opened. Three tall men appeared, all dressed in uniform, each with a saber at their waist. They were the Prayer Priests, specialists trained specifically in subduing Magatsukami.
Stay alert.
Don't take your eyes off her.
Surrounded by the Prayer Priests, Latimeria looked bewildered, her cheeks still stuffed with her hamburger.
The Prayer Priests simultaneously unsheathed their sabers.
Swish!
Oh, huh?
In the observation room, Latimeria's voice could be heard, filled with confusion.
Detective, this is just too tragic. Let me do the talking.
Hah. Thinking of stopping them? It's futile. Prayer Priests won't stop in the face of a Magatsukami.
I suppose so.
Nanoka, still handcuffed, pressed the call button on the microphone at the table.
Can you hear me, Latimeria?
On the other side of the one-way mirror, Latimeria looked up suddenly.
Oh, Nanoka? Where are you?
Those people want to kill you.
Oh . . . ?
She furrowed her brows in suspicion, surveying the encircling Prayer Priests.
Feeling watched, they stepped back.
Don't eat them, okay?
No . . . I will.
Remember, I know your weakness. Do you really want to be wiped out?
Are you watching somewhere? Come out, you coward!
She looked around the room frantically, unaware that she was being observed from behind the mirror.
I'll say it again, don't eat anyone.
Tch.
She clicked her tongue, finished off the remaining hamburger, and licked the ketchup from her fingertips.
Don't order me around.
Noticing the murderous intent swelling within her, the Prayer Priests exchanged glances.
Charge!!!
As they moved, Latimeria, still seated, kicked the desk upward, sending it soaring over their heads.
One of the Prayer Priests followed the desk with his eyes and raised his chin, while Latimeria laughed. It was as if he was offering his neck on a platter.
It's tough, isn't it . . . ?
Latimeria muttered to herself as she ran.
Closing in as she swung her arm towards an exposed neck, a spurt of blood sprayed from one of the priests' necks.
Gah . . . !