Same occupation, both teachers.

Why… why does he always go to Hiratsuka‑sensei?

Yes, Hiratsuka‑sensei is certainly attractive, and her personality is… very distinctive.

Kirisu Mafuyu wrestled internally to find the right adjective.

But I'm… I'm not lacking, am I?

Knowledge, looks, poise—Mafuyu knew her own qualifications perfectly well.

Besides, when we're in bed he—

A sudden, inexplicable wave of jealousy surged up.

She took a deep breath; on the "Ice Queen's" face appeared a rare hint of hesitation and embarrassment.

Yet she still worked up her courage and, in the calmest voice she could manage, asked:

"Hiratsuka‑sensei… um… may I ask you something?"

Hiratsuka Shizuka, who had just lifted her water‑glass to hide her own awkwardness, froze.

"Hm? What is it?"

A faint blush crept over Mafuyu's pale cheeks; her voice dropped even lower, tinged with a shyness she'd never shown before.

"It's… about Rei Ao‑kun. How… how did you get him to notice you?"

Asking that nearly used up her lifetime allotment of courage.

She immediately bowed her head, afraid to meet Hiratsuka's eyes.

Hiratsuka: "…"

She almost spit out her water, staring wide‑eyed at the colleague famous for her frosty self‑control.

What on earth—where did this personality swap come from?!

…

Cut to the present moment.

Lucifer, full of smug confidence, unleashes Rain of Hellfire and prepares to harvest the flood of fear surging up from below.

In the blink of an eye, the cruel grin on his face freezes, as though trapped in ice.

His devastating spell—clusters of lava fireballs wreathed in black flame—plunges to within a hundred meters of the ground and slams into an invisible, utterly impassable Wall of Sighs.

Space congeals.

Time halts.

Energy is erased.

Sound is swallowed whole.

His proud magic hangs there, stuck in mid‑air, unable to stir the faintest ripple.

Even the dazzling crimson core of the magic circle snuffs out like a candle flame.

This incomprehensible, world‑shattering sight makes Lucifer's slit pupils contract to pinpoints.

A chill like never before spears up his spine.

The power he prided himself on—magic wrung from this world's very rules—has been brushed away as casually as dust!

"W‑what?!"

The shocked roar catches in his throat.

Then a voice—calm as dead water, yet carrying absolute authority—sounds behind him.

"You're awfully bold."

So close it feels like a whisper on his nape, every word an ice awl to the soul.

"Your Demon King tiptoes through this world, paying for an air‑conditioner in installments, afraid to step an inch out of line—

and you…"

The voice pauses.

An indescribable pressure crashes down, as though the whole heavens collapse.

Lucifer feels like an insect pinned in amber; even thought nearly freezes.

"…dare stand before me and fling this trash?"

He forces his neck to turn, creaking like a rusted gear.

Reflected in his terrified pupils is a boy in an ordinary high‑school uniform:

black hair, blue eyes, good‑looking, seemingly harmless.

Yet those eyes, deep as cosmic voids, regard him with cold indifference—not anger, not bloodlust, but the detached gaze a human gives an ant.

Who… is this?

How can such a monster exist?

Lucifer's mind goes blank, leaving only raw, primal terror.

Every cell screams: RUN! Escape at once, whatever it takes!

Black wings flare with his last scrap of demonic power, trying to tear space open—but the instant the thought forms, a slender, spotless hand rests lightly on his shoulder.

With that single touch, every shred of magic fueling the teleport fizzles out, frozen at absolute zero.

His vaunted spatial power can't stir a ripple; the pressure feels like it will crush his shoulder blade.

Pinned like a butterfly on a board, he can't even struggle.

Cold sweat soaks his back; for the first time his face shows naked terror and despair.

Rei Ao seems indifferent, studying Lucifer's sorry state with mild curiosity.

Smiling, he asks:

"Hey, purple‑feathered birdman—

you're with that broke Demon King, right? Sadao Maou—Satan?"

Lucifer freezes. His brain, still reeling, instinctively wants to answer Of course I know the Demon King, I'm his—but before he can speak, Rei Ao's smile vanishes. His eyes turn too kindly.

"Forget it."

Lucifer: "???"

Forget… what?

"Doesn't matter if you know him or how you're connected…"

Rei Ao raises his other hand, forming an utterly ordinary‑looking fist.

"First I beat you. Then we talk."

In the next instant, reflected in Lucifer's dilated pupils, that "ordinary" fist expands—tearing the air with a physical shriek (no energy flare, just sheer speed).

BOOM!

A deep, gut‑churning impact.

Lucifer feels as if a falling star has smashed into his face.

Agony erupts; he hears his nose shatter, cheekbones crack.

Vision fills with blackness and sparks. Consciousness flickers like a candle in a gale.

His body rockets earthward like a kicked football.

But before he blacks out entirely, a force grabs him, halting the free‑fall toward the school field below.

Space splits open.

Rei Ao: "Let's go. Time to meet your Demon King."

~~~

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