Sorry for the delay. Merry Christmas


Chapter 15


NOMAD.

The primary antagonist of the Taimanin game series, a demonic organization involved in a myriad of criminal activities, but with a particular focus on the carnal side. In the games, they specialize in breaking powerful women, turning them into mindless sex slaves for their rich clients or breeding sows for their army of demons. Needless to say, they and their many associates are the main force responsible for the brutal rape the taimanin protagonists suffer throughout their respective games.

It was inevitable that I would bump into them someday, I knew that from the moment I've became involved with Rin, but I didn't expect that the first clear sign of their existence would be from someone directly tied to my past, to Ōe Hiroshi's past.

How long had this been going on? When did it start? I can't... I don't interact with the Shiratori family that much, so it's hard to get a point of reference.

But Shiratori Makiko's 'assets' weren't that big the last time I saw her. I could see that now that I wasn't drooling over her. Oh, they were always enormous, but what she has now can't be explained by 'tight dresses' or 'chest bounds', it just can't. So this situation must have started somewhere within this past year.

I suppose this doesn't matter right now, all that matters is what is in front of me.

The Shiratori matriarch clapped her hands together in a cheerful manner, making her arms press her mammoth chest together in a way that would be a lot more distracting if I hadn't known her circumstances.

"My, my, nice timing! Today is katsudon day! You simply must stay for dinner, Ōe-kun; this old lady's katsudon is renowned throughout the world you know!"

Dinner? No... No way. We are getting the fuck out of here. For all I know this entire house is a giant trap for powerful individuals, we cannot stay here, and we certainly cannot consume anything this close to a possible NOMAD base. God knows stronger people than me got tricked the exact same way.

A small part of my brain suggested that this internal freak out is a bit unwarranted. This part of my brain was clearly retarded. I'm a healthy young man in a sexual relationship with a taimanin in a world where NOMAD is a thing: this never ends up well. So unless I put a few leagues between me and the danger zone, there is no way I'm lowering my guard, else hentai tropes might start to literally fuck me over.

Leaning heavily on my Pokerface skill to keep my emotions from spilling out, I gave the fallen-hime-miko-sex-slave-milf a polite smile while I formulated a bullshit excuse to get us out of this mess. "I apologize Shiratori-obasan, but we won't be able to stay. While it was a delightful surprise to find you two living here, I'm afraid we actually got the wrong address, we have urgent business elsewhere."

As I said that, my hand shot up to grasp Ranma's shoulder in a grip tight enough to get even him a sting. Hopefully with this, and my tense demeanor he'll get that something is terribly wrong.

Note to self; look up a code language we can use next time things go tits up.

"Y-yeah." Oh, thank god! "We got, hum, somethin' to do somewhere else, sorry about' that." My friend stammered out.

Yuka, who wasn't at our wavelength, let out a confused little "Eh?" While glancing at us, but thankfully refrained from making any comment.

Above her perpetually closed eyes, Shiratori-obasan's bow crinkled a bit, she opened her mouth to respond when, suddenly, a cloud of brown hair blocked my vision.

"NO!" Azusa shouted right at my face, clinging on to me. "You're not leaving until I make you cute again Eugene!"

Oh no, no, no, not this again, what is this girl's problem!? Hadn't I made it clear that— Actually, what is this girl's deal? Her mother is a sex slave, but there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her, and she hadn't even dressed in a particular slutty manner like her mother. Given how NOMAD was portrayed in the games, that was odd, to say the least.

"Now, now, young lady." Azusa let out a whiny yelp as her mother, in an amazing display of strength, pried her from my chest by her ear. "You're being rude to the guests!"

The older woman pulled her daughter back and turned her attention to me. She looked even better up close, with small details like her elegant eyelashes, her shiny pink lips, and the beauty mark in the valley between her vast cleavage really popping off. Her scent was another thing that caught me off guard; a deep, intoxicating, yet undefined sweet fragrance that was almost too thick to breathe.

Poker Face leveled up!

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Shiratori-obasan pleaded with a soft, mewing voice. "It's been ages since we last talk! How are you dear? How is your mother? My, there is so much to catch up!"

My mind conjured images of a hazel-haired woman built like a supermodel who just oozed confidence wherever she went, but I pushed that to the side because I can't afford to have the memories of my other parent give me another mental breakdown. Though at least I could confirm that my mother's appearance was not as... unique as my father's, thank god.

I raised both my hands to my sides in a helpless gesture. "I'm afraid it's impossible, obasan. I'd love to visit another day and have a chat but today we really must be going."

Her delicate fingers touched her cheek as she tilted her head to the side and let out a despondent sigh. Still, her body leaned forwards, the wide, puffy nipples about to pop out of her sweater and brush against the fabric of my shirt. Her glossy mouth parted to voice an insistence—

When suddenly, the door behind us clicked open, and a tired "I'm home." Resonated throughout the house.

Shiratori-obasan's reaction to it was... quite the sight. To say the woman 'perked up' would be an understatement. She nearly jumped in place, all her visible skin immediately turned bright pink, and her expression erupted into euphoric delight before she bodily pushed past me with a "Welcome home~" Singsonging out of her lips.

That hurt a little bit, not gonna lie.

My arm was pulled to the side as Azusa decided to fill up the space her mother left behind and giggly tried to sneak me away to the torture chamber she calls a room while everybody was distracted. At this point, I simply grabbed her by the face, pushed her as far as my arm could spread, and kept her here. Ignoring the muffed whining, I directed my attention to the new developments.

Um, oh.

If the two innocent meatheads that had come with me had been stunned by Shiratori-obasan's appearance and dress code, now they were about to explode. The Milf – Sex slave, got to remember that – choose to greet the man that had come in by latching herself to him and sticking her tongue down his throat. And she was doing this loudly, messily, and utterly shamelessly.

Sounds that were too inappropriate to describe filled the air while limbs were thrown around and clung to whatever they could reach. Finally, just before clothes began to drop, the man's increasingly hazy eyes found the three unknown teenagers by the entrance corridors and widened in realization.

"M-Makiko, there's... There are guests!" The man stammered breathless, trying to push the amorous woman away from him.

"Dear~~~!" She, of course, paid no mind to his attempts and dove in for more kisses.

Shiratori Fumihiro, being the sole heir of an old, powerful family with ties to several successful businesses, was the one responsible for his family's current social standing. However, he was always the odd one out at the parties and events I remember seeing him in. Unlike the boisterous arrogance expected from a man of his station, he was timid and reserve, laughing and stammering awkwardly while the others exchanged confident courtesies and cunning talks. Looking at the memories bombarding me, the man always gave out the impression of a bunny surrounded by hungry lions, with his wife easily retaining most of the attention wherever the couple went.

Ultimately, however, he was a good man. Much like his wife, all my direct interactions with him were very positive. He was really quite friendly and talkative once you took him away from the posh, arrogant crowd and put him somewhere he was more comfortable with, like near the kids.

The man by the door looked like Shiratori Fumihiro, acted like Shiratori Fumihiro, and even felt like him, but he wasn't.

Gamadamaru
The Viridian Demon
Level: 40

Ah.

I must admit, getting throw neck deep into a shitty situation and then suddenly discovering something of a source to it felt quite nice. Like locating the key piece of a jigsaw puzzle, or uncovering the main clue for a grand mystery. Most of my questions were erased right then and there, it wasn't like they'd been perfectly answered, of course, but now I had the cause, pieces started to fall into place.

No matter what details are still missing, I can safely say this fucker is the reason Shiratori Makiko is a sex slave.

And that focused me like you wouldn't believe.

The demon finally managed to push the woman to a comfortable distance, and then he looked up at me with Shiratori Fumihiro's wide, honest face and smiled his small, embarrassed smile.

Poker Face leveled up!

"Sorry about that, my wife can be, err, overly passionate sometimes."

Not an ounce of recognition.

"I-It's fine." It seems the display of classic Japanese humbleness prompted Yuka to awkwardly react in solidarity. "It's nice to see such a, ahem, happy marriage?"

For my part, I just... smiled.

"It's been a while, Shiratori-ojisan."

"Oh." The demon blinked rapidly at me. His 'wife' helpfully interjected.

"Dear! It's Ōe-kun! Can you believe it!? Look how tall he is!"

"A-Ah." The demon cast his gaze between the woman and me. "Ōe... Hiroshi-kun, right? You look so different I was barely able to recognize you, haha." It rubbed the back of its head awkwardly.

Sure, let's go with that.

"Hm." It cleared its throat at my lack of response. "W-Will you be staying for dinner?"

It was a small thing; I would certainly have missed it if I wasn't paying complete attention to the creature. But its eyes slid away from me and suddenly I wasn't the creature's focus anymore.

He looked at Yuka and kept looking at her.

My smile solidified. "I'm afraid not, we have other business to attend."

"But it's dark already, surely it can wait for tomorrow." He neatly followed that up. "In fact, I very much insist."

At that exact moment, the door behind him close without any prompt, and I felt a slight tingle with my supernatural senses. That... the inflection of his voice... his continuous attention on Yuka... can this guy be any more obvious?

New quest: Hentai Plot interrupt!
You have stumbled upon a NOMAD operation. Quick, do something about it!
Rewards:

5.000 exp.

Increases closeness with the Taimanin Corps.

Increases closeness with the History Compilation Committee.

Increases closeness with Shiratori Asuza.

Decreases closeness with Shiratori Makiko.

Vastly decreases closeness with the NOMAD organization.

Failure:

Decreases closeness with Shiratori Asuza.

Decreases closeness with Shiratori Makiko.

Crippling injury.

Mind Break.

Death

Accept/Refuse.

Well, it wasn't like I needed further excuse.

The nice, polished floorboard splintered under the weight of my advancing step. The air popped at my side as a sudden volume was introduced to it mid-swing, and my baseball bat announced its presence by bursting through the demon's head, turning it into a fine trail of red mist.

Some of it painted the top of Shiratori-obasan's head, regrettably.

Several things happened in the follow-up second. I was abruptly slammed into a wall with an arm nearly crushing my windpipe as Yuka got right at my face with an intense and, frankly, terrifying expression, a shocked Ranma looked between the falling body and my new predicament and started to move to do something about it, and the other two members of the Shiratori family let out confused gasps, one noticeably more strangulated than the other.

"It's a—" It was the only thing I managed to force out my compressed throat before everything went to tentacle shit.

Note to fucking self; blow the fucking demon to tiny bits next time around.

It didn't exactly hurt. Heck, it didn't even damage me, as the lack of any drop on my Hp bar would attest, but having the body of the demon explode into spreading tentacles like some kind of gross grenade so close to me meant that some of them stuck my sides, knocked the wind out of me and send me flying away; a fate similar to what happened to the rest.

Thank god they went for the 'bash away to create distance' route rather than the usual 'grab and ensnare' route. It would be a lot harder to deal with.

"It's!" I yelled as my body slammed hard against the ceiling, I rolled with the impact and managed to land on my feet, "- a hentai demon!"

Sharer of obvious news, it is me.

Don't think anyone heard me though, having been knocked away like that. Before my eyes, the spreading pink mass quickly congregated into a singular body and blurred out of view.

It was faster than I expected, and it didn't move in a straight line, choosing instead to grab onto the walls and ceilings and dash forwards in fast, jerky motions like some kind of Japanese movie monster. My eyes struggled to follow it around as it made its way towards me in a distinct three-dimensional trajectory.

My reaction time, horned by weeks of hard training and battle to the dead, was more than enough to keep up with it, however, so I was moving before I even detected the follow-up attack. With a short tilt of my torso, I avoided the spearing tentacle and swung my bat at it in a nigh-perfect counter.

I wasn't able to put my full weight behind it because of poor posture but it was more than enough to send the demon flying. It crashed against the front hall and held itself there for a second, allowing me to see its full grotesque form for the first time.

A humanoid frog creature with disturbingly long limbs and a tangle of tentacle sprouting from its back, I note in academic interest before raising my bat and shooting a series of Mana Bolts from the tip.

The thing easily zigzagged out of the way. Didn't I hurt it? No, seeming how quick and flexible its limbs were, it must have jumped together with my attack to mitigate the damage. I directed a few shots to intercept some kind of throwing weapon it managed to send flying at me, but before the demon could capitalize on this opportunity a shouting Ranma body slammed it from the side, taking them both to another room.

Trusting my friend to keep the thing busy for a moment, I swept my eyes over the area and focused on the other points of concern.

Everything that I knew of Shiratori Makiko points to her not being a fighter, but the title of 'Fallen Hime-Miko' and her high level wasn't something I could simply ignore. The bafflement on the rising woman face as she struggled to process the last thirty or so seconds was another indication of her non-combatant status, even so, I stepped over to her and delivered a quick, painless jab to the back of her neck, robbing her of her consciousness and making her drop back down on where she had fallen.

"Hiroshi, what's happening!?" Yuka's hard tone made me look up. The martial artist was looming over me, not exactly aggressive but clearly tensed, her battlefield senses visibly winning over whatever confusion and conflicting feelings she might be having.

Oh right, I did appear to murder someone right in front of her, didn't I?

"That man is a demon, it'd infiltrated this family for some, no doubt malignant, reason." I shiftily informed her.

"A demon?" She tilted her head to the sounds of the battle happening in the other room.

"No time to explain further." I noticed a groaning Azusa pulling herself to her knees in the background. "Please take Azusa and Shiratori-obasan out of the house and keep them safe. I and Ranma will take care of it."

Fewer women close to the thing the better.

Yuka frowned but I didn't wait around to hear her protest, I did hear Azuna's alarmed questions as I rushed past but I paid no mind to it and leaped into the room where the action was happening.

Only to duck and roll behind the remains of a couch as the temperature flared and a foul-smelling green flame washed over the now identifiable living room.

A frog demon that can breathe fire, great.

I swerved around and braced my hands and shoulders against the back of the couch, my legs tensing in preparation beneath me. From the stream of flames above, a slightly toasty Ranma popped off, saw me, figured out what I was about to do, and joined the effort without so much as a word.

Using our combined strength we pushed the furniture towards the source of the flames. It hit the demon with a satisfyingly sounding crash but the nimble fucker managed to roll around it and let it fly past, which it did for a considerable distance. At least it cut off the fire.

Then, freaking rain started pouring down on us.

"Of course," Ranma mumbled grumpily as he suddenly turned into a she. Meanwhile, I looked up at the ceiling to see— Seriously!? A full fire suppression system in a residential home? Who would even—

Poison Resistance leveled up!

SHIT!

A full-powered Mana Bolt exploded against the ceiling, spreading ethereal sparks and kinetic energy across every corner. It did stop the water but I noted that it did not blow a hole straight through the next floor as it damn well should. I pushed that aside to address Ranma.

"The water has been tampered with, do not let it get into your mouth!"

"What?" My friend mumbled, then, to my horror, a brief wobble spread through her posture, "Oh ok." She says as she took stock of the effects.

It can be absorbed through skin! Fuck! Fuck!

"Look out!" Ranma suddenly yelled and dragged me to the ground. The space around us exploded in a series of heavy thumps, like a volley of old school canons had suddenly opened fire at us.

I wiped the dust out of my vision and caught a glimpse of one of the 'ammunition' thrown at us, a greenish transparent ball around the size of a person's head with a distinctly organic nucleus. As I looked, that nucleus rapidly grew to fill up the transparent space, then, burst open in a grotesque show of newly formed organs and limbs.

Oh, you got to be kidding me!

I look up just in time to see the frog demon retreating further down the house, and then the malformed tadpole creature leaped at my face.

It had a lot of fucking teeth for a newborn, but, thankfully, it was weak as hell. One bat swing was enough to reduce it to mush, and by the time I got to my feet, I had already crushed another two.

"We can't let it out of our sight!" I shouted to Ranma as I rushed forwards, basting through the minions that attacked rather than focusing on dealing with them.

There is no way I would give a Taimanin hentai demon time to breathe.

It wasn't easy though, the fire suppression system was pouring drugged water throughout the whole house, so I had to be the first to enter a room – hoping to god my resistance would keep the worst effects at bay – and take out sprays before Ranma could follow. The demon did not stop moving for a single moment. Its strategy appears to have shifted from fighting us directly to getting the fuck away as fast as possible, so it was always outside from our range, quickly bouncing around to the next exit, or avoiding our attacks. And during that mad pursuit, it kept throwing shit at us, shit as in stuff, many, many stuff; weird decorations, random colorful objects, oddly shaped statues, more furniture than I could count, fucking more tadpole monsters, all being constantly launched at us by tentacles or disgusting tongue-like appendages. I swear, if this house weren't so big we wouldn't even have space to fucking move, hoarder house for sure.

Despite that, I did not make it easy for it. At any and every opportunity I had Mana Bolts flying at it, even some of what I was coming to categorize as 'Fast Bolts' being shot by the considerable strength of bat swings, at every moment the surface the demon was passing and the area around it were exploding in a shower of condensed mana. And Ranma, well, this whole cat and mouse chase wasn't doing her temper at favors, she was already cursing up a storm at the demon's cowardice, move set, teachers, family, lineage, pets, and general appearance, and was promptly snatching the stuff it threw at us and hurling it back.

Her direct attacks, however, were the thing that was making a difference. If my Mana Bolts were harassment shots Ranma's attacks were guided missiles. She was the only one of us that could match the demon's speed, only losing in terms of agility and flexibility due to unfamiliarity with the terrain and limited range, her attacks grazed the demon more than anything, but a graze from a pissed off Saotome Ranma? Yeah, it definitely felt that.

We were somehow keeping up with its frenzy pace, hurting it, tiring it, and driving it into a corner. If I had a cleaner head, I would probably act more carefully at this point, but I was too obsessed with not giving the demon any room, not giving a chance to pull a trick on us and gain an advantage. I wanted to kill it quickly.

So I fucked up.

We drove it - or it led us - to the second floor, and in a singular motion it threw several tadpoles minions at us before striking its legs on the wall and jumping into a room. Ranma and I took care of the minions without even losing speed and followed after it. I went first, of course, to take care of the still pouring fire suppression system.

As soon as we were inside, the door closed behind us and the whole bedroom lit up as glowing magical-looking lines and scripts appeared on the walls, floor, and ceiling. A giant magical formation just activated by the door slamming close.

I can't fucking believe I didn't see that— AGHRNHHHHHH!

New Skill Created: Psionic Resistance lvl 01.
Increases your natural resistance against Psionic energy, decreases the harmful effects of Psionic energy, takes less damage from Psionic attacks.

The world lost its shape in a dazzling kaleidoscope of a million colors, distances were stretched apart, and angles folded together as perception lost all meaning and sense of self melted inside the cosmic pot of falling elements. All become one in the not-Void of creation and the great Lie was made manifest! There was pain. There was pressure, but those were quickly swallowed into the opening maw of

Psionic Resistance leveled up!

I blinked, and my- eye/sense/vision snapped forwards. The world was splitting apart into a thousand colorful facets and each contour had become a thick, black horizon that trembled and shook in the rhythm of the incessant anthem ringing in my ears. I felt- It was hard to feel - pressure at all sides, tumbling perception and a vanishing sense of—

Psionic Resistance leveled up!

I was on my knees and my head felt like it would pop, I couldn't hear anything apart from the damn ringing, and my damn eyes wouldn't focus on what was in front of me- A figure loomed over, its trembling shape hard to make out, but it set up alarms flaring inside my aching mind. Two appendices – limbs? Spread apart and something deadly sprouted from them.

Pure instinct took over.

From the moment of its creation I knew my chainsaw bat spell would be my go-to for when I wanted to utterly fuck someone up. Yet, at the same time, I knew this would be impossible. The thing was just too costly to use, fifteen seconds was enough to deplete my entire Mana bar, and with how reliant I am to my Mana Bolts when chips were down this would've been a death sentence. Short bursts were one way to mitigate this, but with the focus and control required it was still hard to use against opponents that demanded my all.

Luckily, I knew almost intuitively why it was this expensive; the spell was incomplete – or was badly made? – The main issue has to do with the fact I couldn't perfectly integrate the concept of an 'edge' in the round surface of a baseball bat. It was my fault as I failed to see how it could work on a fundamental level or failed to convince myself how it could work, so it required more mana to force it to work, as a means of throwing magic at the problem till it solves it.

That was what I was able to get from my experiments with it

One possible solution to this conundrum, I'd realized, was to sideway that problem altogether; a way that I could see a baseball bat having edges.

After all, baseball bats might not have a long, cutting edge like a sword, but they do serve as pretty good support for rotating saws.

The line of small Mana blades appeared sideways in my bat's metallic surface, sprouting across the entire length while starting to move at vicious, grinding speeds. It wasn't capable of cutting anymore, but it could still rip someone in half in its own messy way.

And for half the price too.

My bat came up just as the figure's- the demon's attack came down. My swing was pathetic; weak, clumsy and with horrible grip strength, but the demon still redirected its attack from my neck to my bat to keep it from tearing its chest open in the most painful way possible.

Hard learned lessons had me tightening my grip as I felt my weapon being brought harshly downwards and— and then, suddenly, the overwhelming pressure wrapped around my head disappeared, and the world snapped back into place. I was left blinking at the uncomfortably close face of the frog demon.

We both looked down to where his wrist blades were pinning my saw bat, the rotating mana blades steadily digging through the floor with a loud grinding sound.

Right at the center of the magical formation glowing here.

"Oh, Crap—" I heard the demon rasps out before the world turned to white.

Is it worrying that being in the heart of an explosion felt almost comfortingly familiar to me? The phosphoric flash burning through my retinas, the sudden feeling of weightlessness while being tossed around in an almost physical tunnel of kinetic energy, the thuds and crashed as my body hit whatever was in the area, the pain... that was actually quite bearable, compared to before.

All and all, I was more annoyed than alarmed as I fell down farther than I expected, my body crashing loudly onto what could only be debris, while piles of the stuff showered over me from above.

By the time everything finally stopped, I was near completely enclosed in a cocoon of wreckage, little shafts of lights barely reaching my vision.

A quick check of my life bar showed that I'd barely lost a third of my total Hp, so the early psionic attack – a fucking psionic attack can you fucking believe it!? – was either mostly for show, or, more likely, geared towards incapacitation rather than dealing damage. My head still ached a bit, but that was probably just a lingering after-effect.

With only slightly more effort than normal, I moved my arms across the solid prison, producing some earsplitting and grinding noises as I wiped the layer of debris from myself in the same manner someone might throw their covers off their bodies after waking up. With two more wipes to get everything off and try to clear up some of the dirt, I got to my feet, pulled up my baseball ball with me, and rested it on my shoulders.

... Well, we didn't collapse the entire house, just part of it. Toppled the second floor over the first floor, on one of the living rooms, I reckon. Piles of debris covered what had once been a sizable lounge/entertainment area, thick clouds of dust dotted the surrounded the area, and above, in the space between the floors, snapped electrical wires noisily sparkled with energy while ruined pipes splashed a constant stream of tampered water, thankfully none close enough to reach us.

Frankly, it was about time for something like this to happen, given the reckless attacks I've been dishing out, in fact, this whole house should have come down long ago. But for some reason only part of it did, and from what I could see the outside structure still appears to be intact... even though this place's been the site of a frenetic superhuman battle for several long minutes.

Ah hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the walls were absorbing the energy to power up traps or something like that, considering it only collapsed after I broke that glowing magical circle.

"Oi, Ranma, you alive!?" I called out, sweeping my eyes across the area to search for any signs of the demon. It was clear to me by now that it was a lot less sturdy than us, but if there was no body it wasn't dead.

Some wreckage rumbled and shook close by, and from it, the buxom torso of my favorite red-hair emerged. She was clutching her head.

"Uhggggg! What the fuck was that!?"

She actually said 'fuck' in perfect English, I'm so proud. "Mental attack."

"Mental att- how does that even work!?"

"Why are you asking me? Ask the frog!"

"Can't, I'm killin' it when I find it!" She pulled herself off the pile and stood a bit behind me, watching the opposite direction for threats. The only signs of damage she had accumulated in this entire chase were ruffled clothes and a nosebleed, so about the same as me. "Where the heck is it anyway!?"

"I dunno," I admitted, something that wasn't helping with my growing anxiety, the room was big, but it wasn't that big. "Maybe it's beneath this wreck?"

"Then let's set it on fire!"

Heh, Ranma says the sweetest things when she's a girl.

"Yuka." Ranma then suddenly mumbled. It was so random that it took a moment for me to get what she meant.

"Y-You... guys..."

The waitress was leaning heavily against the doorframe just outside the mess we made. She was breathing heavy, her body trying to curl in over itself while her knees visibly wobbled underneath her. Her whole face was practically glowing with a pink blush that almost seems to spill out to her neck and cleavage.

And she was absolutely drenched with the waters of the fire suppression system.

Fuck! I was already taking steps towards her but stopped when she flinched back, her eyes trailing over my body like mine do to Rin when she's wearing her taimanin uniform.

I tried to find words. "F... I told you to leave the house!"

She shot me a glare but shied away when that only made her blush even harder. "... Couldn't open the doors or windows." She muttered.

W- Crap, it might have been magically sealed. I hadn't considered that possibility.

"Is she dyin'?" Ranma questioned from behind me and Yuka blinked owlishly at my friend's female form.

"Who..."

I turned to the red-hair, feeling a bit perplexed. "No she isn't, what makes you say that!?"

Ranma made a face. "You said the water was poisoned!"

"We got some on us too. Do you feel like you're dying?"

Ah, it seems that pointing this out was a bit of a mistake. Saying that out loud made me remember that yeah, we did get some of the water on us too. It instantly made my body feel warm all around. But Ranma?

She nearly stumbled to the floor, a blush exploding across her cheeks while two attractive impressions popped up in her shirt. It was hard not to look.

Great, now I got two horny girls and a hentai demon not confirmed dead. Can this get any—

...

I didn't say it.

I didn't even think about it.

"AHHHHHHHH~!"

I didn't say it god damn it!

The sound, worryingly enough, came from the room where Yuka had come from. Without time to consider the possibility, I barged into it, expecting anything from demon reinforcement to a rogue tadpole minion that has matured into another demon frog.

What I found was Shiratori Makiko enacting an iconic hentai scene. Her naked form was being held in the air by coils of tentacles, the slimy appendices wrapped around her limbs and breasts while the tips below piston in and out of her holes at a frenetic, hungry pace. Her face was twisted into a mindless tapestry of ecstasy and the noises she let out before she was muffled by another invading tentacle would haunt me in the future for many conflicting reasons.

Under her, standing in the center of the room and being practically showered by her womanly fluids was the same damn demon frog that had somehow slipped past us and got into this room.

He was also holding a crystal-like object close to its face, muttering into it.

The graphic scene had paralyzed Ranma, but I wasted no time leaping to action with my bat raised. Only to almost end up face-first into a pair of huge, pillowing breasts as Shiratori-obasan was suddenly there. The older woman seems to delight herself with my close presence and began to frantically grind her wide hips against the tentacles fucking her. I tried moving to the side to attack from another direction but the woman was jerked towards me, blocking my path.

The bastard was using her as a human shield.

"Oi Ranma snap out of it, I need you for a pincer attack!" I yelled out.

At the same time, the demon also yelled out the end of what I figured was a magic incitation and then drove the crystal-like object into the floor.

Sh—

A freaking hole suddenly open up beneath me and I was swallowed by darkness.

-0-0-0-

I wish I could wax poetic about my staying in the dark. Talk about how I was suspended there for what felt like ages, my attacks trying and failing to produce any meaningful effect, leaving me no choice but to reflect on my every action and decision until I went through some kind of magical epiphany that allowed me to masterfully subvert whatever this spell was from the inside and break free from this prison.

But that was not what happened, what happened was that I spent one second in utter darkness, then I saw a crack of light, and then before I could even process anything, I was out.

I blinked at the dark, metallic ceiling occasionally being lit up by distant flashes of brightness. A moment of disorientation hit me like a truck as my brain caught up with the last short series of events.

Then I leaped to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest.

Alright, not restrained, so far so good, baseball bat in my hands, more good news, but rather than a partially destroyed house, my surroundings appeared to be a dark, metallic room that spread for a long distance with was something flashing brightly at the end of it. My eyes struggled to adjust, in fact, my every sense seemed slow to respond like I had just faced an explosion at point-blank range, and my head needed time to realign itself.

"About damn time!"

Noises, several of them, finally broke to the muffled aftereffects of whatever happened to me, including a familiar voice that had me whirling around.

"Ranma?"

She looked exhausted. Sweat pouring over her whole body, legs shaking under her, bare breasts jiggling mightily over the rapid intakes of breath. Her scowling pink face made for a striking image against the flashes of light, which now I noticed were accompanied by loud crashes and explosive booms. She still had her pants something that brought be no small amount of relief, but still.

She threw away the fragments of the crystal-like object I saw the demon holding and my mind clicked together.

"How long I was out?" I asked quickly.

"Few minutes. Bastard collapsed the ground under us!"

A gargling sound drew my attention to Shiratori Azusa who was lying close by, looking mildly catatonic. I felt a bit bad for the girls and the utter havoc we caused in her life but I couldn't afford to get distracted now, so I just took a note of her lack of injury and clothed state before shifting my focus back to more important stuff.

Like the literal flashes of the battle ahead of me.

"Can you fight?" I asked Ranma.

"Who do you think you're talkin' to!?" She snapped, and then almost collapsed to the floor.

I finally noticed the marks all over her arms and shoulders, a few even stretching to her breasts. Long, thick, angry marks dotted with injection points, some still dripping with thin lines of blood. I realized then that the current state of her body wasn't because of exhaustion.

Something dark bubbled inside my chest.

"Stand back, protect Azusa, I'm ending this."

"Screw that! I'm finishing that thing off with my own damn—"

My hand shot up to her shoulder to steady her faltering step. The touch was enough to make her whole upper body flinch and she was barely able to muffle the needy, feminine moan that came barging from her throat.

I said nothing as she sunk to one knee and ignored the frustrated tearful sounds and heavy panting. It wasn't something that should be acknowledged. I just tightened my grip and stepped into the fight.

Though calling it a 'fight' was somewhat of an overstatement.

Takeuchi Yuka was brutality given form. She moved the same neat, efficient kata I saw on her using in her fight against Ranma but now they were executed with a weight behind them, a pressuring intent that even I who was not the target of it could feel. I also noticed that even though she used the same moves, they now led up to something, which was definitely not something I caught on the last time.

And that something was a finishing move; a powerful straight punch, a decisive kick, a piercing elbow strike, moves that normally wouldn't be special.

If they didn't produce bright manifestations of Ki and fire.

"KIKODAN!"

A cone of flames blasted through the small army of tadpoles minions around her, the immense heat leaving the metallic walls of what I could now see was a fully-equipped sex dungeon bright and soft. Oddly enough, the flames appear to produce very little smoke for something of their size and didn't seem to consume that much oxygen, otherwise, I would've noticed the difference as I got closer. They also seem to cling to anything regardless of if they should, from the body of the little demons to the metallic instrument of sexual torture around the area.

The frog demon itself was standing back, content to manage his minion army and try to overwhelm Yuka with numbers. It only moved around when the flames got too close, or if the defensive line of minions surrounding him died too much.

But it wasn't nearly as fast as before, considering I managed to hit it with a punishing Mana Bolt without even trying.

It's on its last legs. All there is to do now is finish it.

"Good work," I said as I jumped over the lingering flames and landed on Yuka's side. "You really saved our asses, I'm sorry that—"

It was only my textbook familiarity with Karate that allowed me to dodge the punch that would have pulverized my head.

"What the fuck!" Her next blow harshly dislocated my right shoulder in the effort it took for me to block. It was too damn fast to dodge.

Letting her follow that up would be suicide, so I forced my shoulder back into place – biting down the yelp of pain in the process – quickly grabbed her wrist and stepped into her guard. I tried to suppress her movements but she easily slip out from my hold, grabbed the collar of my shirt, wiped my legs from under me, and brought me to the ground.

The violent slam forcibly expelled the air from my lungs, but before I react a weight dropped down my hips and I was suddenly face-to-face to a brightly blushing Yuka her hazy, reddish-brown eyes gazing down with open intent.

Oh, fuck- was all I managed to think before she forced her lips onto mine.

Now, you'd think that given that current, high-stress situation, this would have done nothing to me. I'll be the first time admit I'm a very perverted guy, but I take pride in my ability to push that to the side when it isn't appropriate, like, for example, in the middle of a fight against a hentai demon inside a half-melted sex dungeon.

Yet Yuka's lips sent bolts of lighting across my body and nearly made me ruin my pants.

The kiss we shared couldn't be described as anything less than animalistic; I wasn't pretty or particularly romantic, just a wild, messy dance of tongue of two people trying to suck the breath from each other. I was suddenly very, very aware of the firm yet voluptuous body in torn clothes wiggling on top of me. And the way she ground down her hips over the outline of my manhood almost made my eyes roll back to the back of my head.

Poison Resistance leveled up!

Shit... the drug... her saliva...

It took a titanic almost of effort and god knows how long for me to manage to curl my fingers into a fist and deliver a vicious strike directly on her ribs. She immediately flinched back, her breath stolen from her in a completely different way. I used this opportunity to twist my body and limbs under her, putting me in the perfect position for a technique that could not exist in my old world, because it relied heavily on the superhuman strength of the martial artists of this one.

Anything Goes style: Jigoku Gurama!

This was supposed to be used as a standing grapple but worked just as well against opponents pinning you down. Extending my limbs just fast enough at the right angle, I send Yuka spinning wildly into the air and away from me. Sparing no time to celebrate the execution of my first real martial art technique, I pivoted around, picked up my fallen bat, and launched myself to my feet already running.

Where before, this window of opportunity would have seen the demon disappearing from sight, this time around the creature was simply too injured to react, so it unsheathed its wrist blades and braced itself for a direct engagement. Only for me to change my trajectory midway and dive further into the room.

Why? Because I was fucking tired of this slippery fucker throwing curveballs at us, and because I managed to catch the glimpse of Shiratori-obasan doing something distinctly glowy in the background. Given the fact that the demon was making a stand on this area and not bouncing away to the closest exit, it was clear to me that it did not want us to reach her. So that's exactly what I going to do.

Sure enough, Shiratori-obasan was bending over – quite lewdly I might add – a glowing magical circle adding scripts and lines to it with her blood and other fluid while muttering an incantation. My first reaction to the sight was to shoot a banishing mana bolt at her and increase my pace.

But of course, a green blur bounced around the walls with speeds that could only come from desperation and took the bolt instead. The demon was catapulted backward with nearly as much speed, passing right over the naked woman doing mystic stuff and hitting the dead end ahead. There, immediately braced his feet against it and leaped back in the direction it came. Flying directly towards me.

Eight tentacles blooming on its back sprouted blades of bones as they shot forwards, I promptly answered the challenge with sawed baseball bat grinding ominously, and we finally meet in a meaty crash.

"G-Grah!" The demon opened its disgusting frogmouth to vomit what almost seemed like a liter of blood. I just adjusted my grip and forced more of my bat and rotating mana blades into its guts. As for its own attacks, the ones that did not miss simply bounced off my skin with swallow cuts. "H-How!?"

I shot a small banishing Mana Bolt to the ground from the sole of my feet, accelerating forwards in the last seconds. The trick got me into its guard and away from the range of most of its attacks.

Not that I would tell it that.

"Just die already," I growled, twisting my grip around.

Just as I was about to literally rip the odious creature in two, its bloody tongue came flying off its open mouth and hit me in the stomach in a heavy strike. I grunted and stumbled back, pulling my bat out of the large hole on the demon's guts, which immediately started pouring out.

So it chose a slightly longer death rather than a quick one- Nope, it doesn't get to choose.

My next swing was blocked by a mass of tentacles, which instantly disintegrated into bloody ribbons. This got the demon a second that it used that to jump back and create some space.

A Mana Bolt then obliterated its hastily raised arms and threw it back even further. The second Mana Bolt was just about to hit when it jumped back again.

The third Mana Bolt... exploded harmlessly against a blue force shield.

"Oh, you got to be kidding me!"

The demon had jumped back enough to fall into the magic circle Shiratori-obasan was preparing, which now had a blue dome forming around it.

The entire dome shook violently as my furious swings crashed on its surfaces one after the other. Screaming in frustration, I brought down a last swing carrying all my strength behind it, and keep putting on pressure. Arcane sparks flew off from the meeting of force shield and mana blades but the damned thing held on.

Throughout all of that, I could see the demon looking at me. Armless, guts spilling out, an expansive collection of bruises and injuries marking its skin... it still had the galls to look smug.

"You don't know when to quit, eh, kid?" It said, and then it was gone, along with the light of the circle and the dome around it.

Without resistance against the force, my bat fell down right in the center of it, causing a large spiderweb of cracks to spread all over the formation.

Silence was all there was left. Silence... fire crackling behind me... the dying shrieks of the remaining tadpoles being burned alive... A naked, violated woman crying profusely at my feet while trying to claw at the remains of the magic circle...

It got away.

The demon got away.

Fuck.

Quest completed!

+ 5.000 exp.

Your closeness with the Taimanin Corps has increased.

Your closeness with the History Compilation Committee has increased.

Your closeness with Shiratori Asuza has increased.

Your closeness with Shiratori Makiko has decreased.

Your closeness with the NOMAD organization has vastly decreased.

-0-0-0-

In the night Cardian Minon attacked the Temple of Heavenly Oni – in what feels like an eternity ago – I believed I had seen everything the temple had to offer in their desperate fight to protect little Ena. I was wrong.

The team Shiori sent when I called for her help looked like their version of Black Ops. Men and women wearing uniforms of similar aesthetic to Shinto priests/miko's but predominantly black with embroidered talismans and Kyūjitai – an ancient form of Kanji – that tingled my supernatural senses. Each member was wearing a veil that completely obscured his or her face, and a tall, elaborated headpiece.

They didn't speak much and moved with military precision and coordination, gathering only the basics before setting off to work. The weakest of them or at least the only one whose level I was able to see was 75.

The first thing they did – after breaking us out of the house – was setting up a perimeter that had more than a few mystical aspects to it, considering the small bonfires, local food offerings, and the mantra signing. Then, a few of them broke off to scout the neighborhood to make sure there weren't any more threats, and, I suspected, to alter the memory of any 'muggle' that happened to see some interesting sights.

Ironically, the spell that had trapped us actually made their job easier on that front, as it kept the outer layer of the house intact even while it was collapsing on the inside, and also prevented any sounds or visuals from getting out of the containment. So their sweep was mostly symbolic and preventive.

To my surprise, however, the next-door neighbor not only managed to resist their influence but also got out of his house and started to stride towards the perimeter. Granted, he didn't get very far; one moment he was making his way toward us, the next he was fast asleep and being gently picked up by one of the Temple's people, but it was still impressive.

Later I would find out that he was actually Azusa's skating partner and a martial artist himself, a Mikado-something.

As for the rest of the team, they stayed behind to... deal with the detox.

... I think, of all that I faced from the demon tonight, all the trickery, all the harassment tactics, the slipperiness, its tendency of pulling the rug from under us and capitalize from our every mistake, nothing drove home the true terror of a Taimanin demon like seeing their aphrodisiac drugs in full effects.

Without an enemy to focus, or a fight to keep the adrenaline up, the drug in our system started acting up hard. I was barely able to hold myself together while the world dissolved into a bright pink haze and my body was actively becoming more resistant to the drugs the more affected I was getting. The others hadn't stood a chance.

I can still see it now, Yuka panting like a beast, tearing her clothes off and latching on to anyone and anything that got close, Azusa waking up from her stupor with a startling scream and immediately driving all of her fingers inside herself, Shiratori-obasan turning mad with lust and grief to the point of frothing at the mouth, and Ranma... I don't want to talk about Ranma.

Should have thrown warm water on him, I could see that now, it would have made it easier. But at that point, I was only sane enough to keep things from devolving to a place we could never come back from and had barely managed to keep it together enough to the call for help.

This... This is why veteran taimanin gets captured all the time. No matter how powerful they are, or how many armies of demons they can butcher. They only need to slip up once.

I sighed, leaning back against the shitty outdoor bench while rubbing my temples. My body had basically sorted the poison by itself once I had the opportunity to truly wind down so I didn't need treatment, but back in the house, the others are still going through the emergency rituals to burn off the worst of the poison. At least the screams, cursing, and wanton moaning had finally stopped.

What a fucking mess.

The sound of high-heels echoed through the porch before someone joined me on the bench.

"... Thirty-eight." Shiori began after a full minute of silence. "That's the usual number of people that get introduced to the supernatural side of the world each year. From magical bloodlines waking up, cursed or blessed objects bonding to someone's soul, ancient spirits possessing their modern reincarnations, completely random manifestations of mythical powers... all cases where a previously mundane individual might be dragged into our world." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Most of them die the first time facing demons."

I closed my eyes, the fingers of my free hand curling.

"What were you doing here, Ōe-kun?" She got to the point.

This time I was the one that extended the silence, trying to find some excuse, some reason. In the end, I was too exhausted to care.

"I was following a lead for a possible Cadian attack."

Heh, now that I think about it I never specified the kind of monster I was looking for, didn't I? Good one squirrel, you little bastard.

I felt, more than saw Shiori's posture stiffening in place as she suddenly turn her full attention towards me.

"You know that name?"

"So do you, apparently." I trailed off, a bit more defensive.

Shiori placed a hand on her chin as she thought, a gesture that fitted well with the formal ensemble she decided to wear. "Of course, there was an incident in Nerima." She spoke in a low tone. "So you came here believing you'd find a Cardian, but you found a demon instead." The reproach in her voice struck deep in my nerves.

I bristled. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Sit on my thumbs and wait for the next time a monster starts hurting people?!"

"You could have trusted that there were people on the case."

That made me scoff. Really?

"Oh sure, leave it all on the hands of some nebulous people that I've never seen before and watch was innocent die while they mysteriously do nothing!"

"They went after my daughter, Ōe-san." Shiori didn't raise her voice, she didn't move or react in any way to my outburst, she just kept looking at me. I felt a shiver descending down my spine. "Do you truly believe there would be no answer?"

I shifted under her gaze, opening and closing my hands. I wanted to say that I have seen no indication of that, but this felt... entitled, somehow, I mean, who am I to question if she's doing something about this monster outbreak or not? I certainly don't answer to her or have even tried to share what information I have about it.

After a few more seconds under the intense gaze, Shiori sighed, her shoulders slouching just a bit.

"There is an investigation. I cannot share many details, but apart from the two you'd witnessed there had been three more Cardian attacks. They were all dealt with no causalities and minimal damage. We are making progress, Ōe-kun so—"

"So stop putting yourself in danger for no reason, you stupid kid." I finished for her.

It's ironic, all that time worrying, investigating, trying to get stronger, basically acting like the world somehow needed me to take charge and sort things out, turns out there were other more qualified people to deal with it. I didn't even entertain this possibility. What kind of shitty protagonist mindset is this!? Where do I get off thinking the world revolves around me?

"That was not what I was going to say."

"Why not?" I finally took my hand out of my face and let out a burst of wry laughter. "I know I fucked up tonight; I panicked, I was too hasty, too narrow-minded. I should have stopped and actually plan things out rather than thrown myself into a danger half-blinded. That damn demon was one step ahead of us the entire fight; we only prevail by sheer bullheadedness and luck. God, so many things could have gone wrong."

I settled back against the bench. "And now I know didn't even have to be here in the first place. I made my friends go through... that, for nothing."

"I suppose you are capable of acting as your age." The Miko commented with a quiet hum and shook her head. "Is the rescue of Shiratori Azusa and... Shiratori Makiko not good enough reasons, then?"

Ah-

Shit, that really threw me off.

"In cases like this." She went on. "When a demon invades a family unit, they usually don't get discovered until it's too late, if at all. Given the unused state of the... dungeon beneath the house and the lack of trances in the surrounding houses, I'd say you intervened right at the start of whatever he was planning for this place. Analysis is still underway, of course, but it is clear to me that your actions tonight might as well have saved this whole neighborhood... perhaps even more considering the unfinished summoning circle in the basement."

My mind conjured images of the last moments of the fight; the demon hiding behind a magical dome before disappearing.

Summoning circle, huh? It looked more like it was summoning itself to somewhere else, which didn't make sense. But then again, maybe that's why it had Shiratori-obasan working on it; she must have changed its use at the last minute.

I noticed I couldn't help but smile slightly. The speech actually managed to raise my spirits a little bit.

"Shouldn't you be trying to point how reckless I was as if to scare me from doing this again but actually wanting me to learn from my mistakes and do better next time?" I chuckled softly.

The Miko let out a disgruntled sigh. "And there you go acting too mature again. Ah, you take the whole fun out of it, Ōe-kun."

With the air between us successfully lightened, the older woman began fishing through her breast pocket. I swear to god the formal suit actually put a brave attempt at giving her a conservative figure but it failed so nicely.

"There you go." She said presenting me a business card between her fingers.

"What is this?" I asked, looking it up and down. It wasn't hers that for sure, in fact, I doubt it was from any Japanese person, it was too bare bone, and not like, charmingly simply, just plain lacking, it just had a number, address and the initials L.Z, no sense of style, or professionalism, favoring function, yes, but displaying no soul whatsoever...

Man, the Japanese part of my brain goes on weird tangents sometimes.

"What you've asked me for on our last meeting." She cleaned her throat. "This woman is a bit of a pain to work with, but there isn't anyone better for the job... at least if you want to keep your independence."

It took a few moments for the shoe to drop.

"A magic teacher. You got me a magic teacher!" Shiori smirked; apparently, my flabbergasted expression was just what she wanted to see.

"She's a pretty big shot too, you know, and practitioner of the western style, which I noticed you tend to favor. Honestly, you're extremely lucky she's currently staying in Japan, it would be impossible to find her otherwise." The Milf Miko proudly wore the smug face of someone ten years her younger. I could practically hear her going 'praise me praise me!' In her head. "Ah. But actually earning an apprenticeship is up to you; I only got you a meeting."

"That's more than enough." Honestly, I'd be happy if she got me a third-rate stage magician if they could introduce me to the arcane. I'm tired of bumbling around and relying mostly on guts and gamer powers. This fight, especially, showed me I couldn't afford that anymore. "I-Thank you, for going the extra mile for this."

A slender hand gently bounced over my gelled locks

"Anything for my Ena's savior," Shiori said, warmingly.

"Do not pet a delinquent's hairdo, woman, I'm pretty sure that's indecent."

"Oh my~."

Shiori had to leave not long after that. Apparently, this was a busy night for her and the History Compilation Committee... This all but confirmed the hidden underlayer of this operation. Everything, from the response time, the black ops team, the huge perimeter, the rituals and spells that even now were still being cast, all told me there was something more going on beneath the eye. But whatever it was, Shiori hadn't seen fit to share with me.

This... doesn't surprise me. Considering my metaknowledge about demons and their many connections and backers, I couldn't help but wonder how many plans and conspiracies got unraveled tonight because a group of overpowered teenagers just happened to stumble upon a NOMAD operation and take out the demon leading it even beyond that. And beyond that with how demons are portrayed and what they usually do to their victims in the game, I can see the Committee taking the presence of one very seriously.

Plus there was the whole affair with Makiko and her Fallen Hime-Miko title. Shiori didn't show any reaction to it, or give any indication that she knew... but I highly doubt that she doesn't. As for me, I didn't have a good reason to know about this information, so I kept my mouth shut.

We were swapping secrets, Shiori and I, revealing some while keeping more hidden, this was how it always been between us.

A set of ambulances quietly appeared down the street. A good sign, it meant my companion's treatment finally exited the more esoteric, state and they could now be transferred over to something more mundane. But it was a sobering reminder of their state, of this whole mess.

... Your actions tonight might as well have saved this whole neighborhood; I suppose I could take comfort in that.


A/N: To address a possible future point discussion, the 'why this guy got away when Hiroshi and Ranma had dealt with stronger opponents before?' well, I wanted to showcase that there are different kinds of enemies. This one in particular relies on tricks and traps rather than direct combat ability, which is a type of opponent they never faced before. It wasn't a matter of overpowering it, it was a matter of surviving/avoiding its tricks. If it was a battle of direct combat poweress the demon would have losed badly, even to Hiroshi who was more than 10 levels beneath it.

Plus it was a NOMAD operative. These fuckers made a art of taking down opponents league stronger than themselves.