“Mr. Kenji, it’s over.”

Yukieda felt a slight urge to share another drink with Kenji.

“You’ve been a huge help, Yukieda.”

Kenji’s weary voice drifted through the terminal. Only now did Yukieda realize it.

“Mr. Kenji… I think I might’ve left traces. If they investigate closely, they’ll see Omi’s death wasn’t natural.”

She meant the water stains on the floor. She’d worn a raincoat inside—mentioning it now felt a little late.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. You rest.”

Hearing Kenji’s steady, reliable tone, Yukieda hesitated. “Mr. Kenji… may I treat you to a drink now? My treat.”

“Now? I’m busy. How about in two days?”

Disappointment flickered across Yukieda’s rain-dampened face, but her voice stayed calm. “Then another time. If you ever need me… please say so.”

The call ended.

Back at the apartment, a lavish dinner sat cold on the table. Neither Shizuku nor Mai had touched their chopsticks.

“Yukieda!” Shizuku started to scold—then froze at Yukieda’s soaked state. “Quick, change! You’ll catch a cold! Dry off with a towel… Actually, just shower first.”

“Mm.”

Yukieda nodded, trailing wet footprints toward the bathroom.

Mai stood. “I’ll reheat the food.”

After washing up in clean, warm clothes, Yukieda suddenly hugged Shizuku tight.

“Yukieda?”

“So tired… I need to absorb Shizuku energy.”

Shizuku stiffened—Yukieda had always avoided touch. This was the first time she’d initiated a hug.

But Shizuku quickly wrapped her arms around her, lifting the petite girl slightly.

“Mai, join us! A family love hug!”

“W-wait, no, absolutely not!”

—

Yukieda didn’t grasp the high-level politics.

A month had passed since Omi’s death.

As Kenji promised, it was ruled suicide. Further inquiry was blocked.

Mai also mentioned Kenji’s prior charges were proven baseless—and Omi exposed for corruption and bribery.

Now Kenji stood as Hakutsuru City’s undisputed authority. His word was law.

“So…”

“This is why we’re patrolling at midnight?”

Yukieda yawned deeply, rubbing her golden eyes.

Perched on a skyscraper’s edge, Mai stood behind her.

Neon lights painted the city below; cars crawled like toys. Honking echoed faintly. Her Magical Girl costume flapped sharply in the wind.

Her legs, numb from the chill, dangled over the ledge.

Classes by day. Patrols till dawn.

Kenji believed Borel was weakened. When she next summoned a Demon, her magic would flare—visible to satellites. Yukieda just needed to hold her briefly. Then: location locked. Ambush ready.

Yukieda hadn’t fully followed the plan. She only knew: stall Borel.

Still… unease lingered. Last time, that Demon crushed her. A Witch who creates Demons? Must be leagues stronger.

She checked her terminal.

D, 10/100 → 50/100.

Combat log updated: *Eliminated Grade B Demon ×1*.

So that thing was Grade B?

Almost leveling up… What happens when it fills?

Swinging her legs sheathed in white stockings, Yukieda felt like the apartment complex’s night guard—just waiting for shift’s end.

She glanced at the screen, then at Mai with hopeful eyes.

“Hakutsuru City’s quiet tonight. Let’s head home.”

*Finally.* Sneaking out like a thief every night, hiding it from Shizuku…

She sighed in relief. Couldn’t wait for warm blankets. Winter would be brutal.

With a light flip, she landed neatly on the roof, little leather shoes tapping stone. She lowered herself before Mai, arms slender as lotus roots extended.

“Come on.”

Mai zipped his notebook into his backpack, casting a wistful look.

*Princess carry*, obviously.

Mai was ordinary—no rooftop leaping.

He’d suggested piggybacking once. Yukieda shot it down: “What if your arms give out? Falling isn’t a joke.”

So here they were.

Silver-haired Yukieda lifted the taller Mai, wind cradling them between towers.

Suddenly, her expression sharpened. Gaze locked on the distance.

“Mai. We’ve got a job.”

—

A disheveled young man.

Tears and snot streaked his face. His work jacket clashed with the neon cityscape.

“Damn it! Damn it!” He slammed the cold wall. “‘Your skills aren’t good enough’? ‘He makes her feel better’? What kind of breakup reason is that?!”

“Wahhh…”

“Weren’t we childhood friends? Promised she’d be my bride! Now she’s riding some delinquent senpai’s motorcycle!”

Unaware, he’d stumbled into a narrow alley. A flickering streetlamp buzzed—faulty wiring.

Eerie silence. Most would flee the entrance.

He didn’t care. Did ghosts even exist?

Even if they did—his heartache hurt worse than Kaneki’s.

*Flicker.*

Beneath the lamp, a shadowy figure with loose hair now stood where none was before.

He rubbed his eyes. Hallucination?

“Resentful? Then take her back.”

A girl smiled eerily.

Her silhouette fit his ideal—*if* not for deathly pale skin, pitch-black pupils, and that chilling aura.

Grief vanished from his eyes. Only confusion remained.

Her words wove like magic, drawing him closer.

He let her caress his cheek. She tilted his chin like petting a cat, Borel’s voice a whisper:

“Deal? You’re worthy… just unseen. I’ll give you power. A second chance. In return… a tiny price.”

Her first hunt since injury.

Magic too low for black mist. Forced to use charm.

She needed vital energy—*willingly* given.

“Willing” was flexible. With full power, she had countless tricks.

But even lowering herself like this…

His eyes flickered with struggle—then cleared. He shoved her back.

“No! You’re a Witch! I won’t deal with you!”

Borel’s pale face paled further. Never imagined rejection from a lowly human.

*Failed… even offering my body?*

*Then die.*

Humiliation burned in her gaze.

“But?”

She’d hear his nonsense.

“The deal… if you… become my girlfriend!” he stammered shyly.

Borel’s smile twisted. *Fool. You understand nothing.*

Post-deal, he’d be a mindless monster—driven only by obsession.

He rambled on: “I’ll show her! I found someone better! Make her regret it!”

Borel tilted her head. Raven hair swirled like a black hole, swallowing light.

“Sure~ If we deal… I’ll be your girlfriend. Play… however you like~”

His throat bobbed.

Logically terrifying—but internet-era kinks ran deep. At least she looked human.

“Ahem… Okay. What do I do?”

“A kiss? I *am* your girlfriend now.”

*If it goes further… blindfold her eyes.*

Too horrifying. He glanced away, mind wandering.

Lips slowly neared—

*Whoosh!*

Instinctively, he turned.

“White panties?”

*Thud.*

His face slammed like a silverback’s slap. Tumbled backward, crashing into a trash can.

“A young man like you—why cling to one tree? For a thousand credits in the pleasure district, lovely ladies await. Dating a Witch? That’ll make you sick.”

A voice like silver bells. Dizzy, he saw a white-costumed Magical Girl—back turned, legs sheathed in white stockings coiled like a leopard’s, ornate pistols in each hand.

Pity he couldn’t see her face.

Only then did he notice: the bustling street had fallen utterly silent.

A black-haired girl appeared, helping him up.

Another stunning beauty!

But—

“No! I won’t go! She’s *my* girlfriend! Run, Little Black! The Magical Girl’s here to kill you!”