The town came into view as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets. Unlike the previous village, this place was bustling with life—merchants shouting about their wares, children laughing as they chased each other, and travelers passing through on horseback or by wagon.
"It looks normal," Makoto said, his cursed eye tingling faintly. "Are you sure there's Akuma here?"
"Positive," Cross replied, walking ahead with his usual confident stride. Timcampy flitted around his head, chirping occasionally as if mocking Makoto's doubt. "They're here. They're just better at hiding."
Makoto swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists. "Better at hiding?"
Cross glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "Level Twos are smarter than the mindless grunts you've been fighting. They can blend in with humans, act normal, even set traps. If you're not careful, you won't even know they're Akuma until it's too late."
Makoto's cursed eye throbbed at the thought. He remembered the souls he had seen trapped inside the Level One Akuma, their pain and desperation etched into his memory. What would a Level Two look like? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
They checked into a small inn near the edge of town, a creaky building that smelled faintly of damp wood and old bread. The innkeeper, a round-faced man with kind eyes, greeted them warmly, but Makoto couldn't help noticing the tension in his voice.
"Strangers don't usually stay long these days," the innkeeper said as he handed Cross their room key. "Not since... well, you've probably heard the rumors."
"What rumors?" Cross asked, his tone casual.
The innkeeper leaned in, lowering his voice. "Disappearances. People vanishing in the middle of the night. Some say it's bandits, others say it's something worse."
Cross nodded, pocketing the key. "Thanks for the warning."
Makoto followed Cross up the narrow staircase, his unease growing with every step. "Disappearances? That's... not exactly subtle for Akuma."
"Exactly," Cross said, opening the door to their room. "Whoever's behind this is either sloppy or confident. Either way, it's your problem."
Makoto sighed, dropping his bag onto the floor. "Of course it is."
That evening, Makoto wandered the town alone, Timcampy hovering beside him. The streets were quieter now, the lanterns casting flickering light over the cobblestones. Makoto's cursed eye ached faintly, but it wasn't the overwhelming burn that signaled an Akuma's presence.
"Maybe Cross was wrong," he muttered, though he knew better than to believe it.
As he turned a corner, a figure darted past him, disappearing into the shadows. Makoto froze, his heart racing. "Hello? Is someone there?"
No response.
Timcampy chirped, its wings fluttering nervously. Makoto summoned his Innocence, the green wheel spinning into existence in front of him. "I'm not playing games," he said, his voice steady despite the fear building in his chest. "Show yourself!"
A low growl echoed from the alleyway ahead, and Makoto's cursed eye flared. Through his distorted vision, he saw the faint outline of a soul—a man, his face twisted with rage and pain.
"Akuma," Makoto whispered, his grip tightening on his Innocence.
The creature stepped into the light, its human guise melting away to reveal a grotesque, insect-like body. Its elongated limbs ended in razor-sharp claws, and its eyes gleamed with malicious intelligence.
"So you're the Exorcist," the Akuma said, its voice smooth and mocking. "I've been waiting for you."
The Akuma lunged, its claws slashing through the air. Makoto dodged, his wheel spinning forward to block the attack. The impact sent a shockwave through the alley, and Makoto stumbled backward, barely keeping his balance.
"You're faster than the others," Makoto said, his voice strained. "But I'm not going to let you win."
The Akuma laughed, its voice echoing eerily. "How noble. Let's see how long that lasts."
It moved with terrifying speed, its claws striking from every angle. Makoto struggled to keep up, his Innocence glowing brighter as he deflected blow after blow. His cursed eye burned, showing him the trapped soul inside the creature—a man, his expression vacant and hollow.
"I'm sorry," Makoto muttered under his breath, pouring his energy into the wheel. "I'll free you. I promise."
The wheel spun faster, its green light cutting through the darkness. It struck the Akuma's side, leaving a deep gash, but the creature barely flinched.
"Is that all you've got?" the Akuma taunted, lunging at him again.
Makoto gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He needed to end this quickly—but how? His attacks weren't strong enough to destroy it outright, and its speed left him little room to maneuver.
As the Akuma lunged again, Makoto's cursed eye flared brighter than ever. His vision distorted, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. He could see the Akuma's movements clearly, the patterns of its attacks mapped out before him.
"This... this is what Cross meant," Makoto realized, his voice filled with awe.
Using the insight from his cursed eye, Makoto dodged the Akuma's next attack with precision, positioning himself for a counterstrike. The wheel spun in his hand, glowing with renewed energy as he hurled it toward the creature.
The wheel struck the Akuma's chest, piercing straight through it. The creature let out a screech, its body convulsing before disintegrating into ash.
Makoto collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving. The soul of the man lingered for a moment, his expression softening as he whispered, "Thank you."
Then he was gone.
Makoto returned to the inn late that night, exhausted but alive. Cross was waiting for him in the common room, a glass of wine in hand.
"Took you long enough," Cross said, smirking. "How'd it go?"
"I won," Makoto said, dropping into a chair. "But it wasn't easy."
"Good," Cross replied, his tone casual. "You learned something, then."
Makoto frowned, his cursed eye still aching. "The cursed eye... it showed me how to fight better. I could see its attacks before they happened."
Cross raised an eyebrow. "That's a handy trick. Don't rely on it too much, though. The eye's not perfect, and it'll burn you out if you overuse it."
Makoto nodded, his gaze distant. "I know."
Cross took a sip of his wine, watching him carefully. "You're stronger than you think, kid. But don't get cocky. Level Twos are just the beginning."
Makoto looked up at him, determination burning in his eyes. "I'll keep getting stronger. No matter what."
Cross smirked, setting his glass down. "We'll see."
To Be Continued...