The walk back to X-Store was heavy with silence. No one spoke, but every agent had a thousand questions swirling behind their eyes. Questions they weren't ready—or brave enough—to ask.

The two rookies who'd nearly banished Demon Agent Rex the day before. Who'd called out the senior agents without blinking. Who ran like devils through the jungle and left seasoned agents stunned speechless. And yet… spoke like kids. Immature. Chaotic. Childish, even.

Some of the agents found them oddly endearing. Others found them terrifying.

Agent Nick? He was somewhere between those extremes—and falling fast.

That moment, back on the trail… the jump. The blur. The sheer pressure they gave off. It wasn't human. Not even close. He'd only ever seen demons move like that. Not even regular ones—high-ranking demons. Beings built from fire and instinct and feral grace.

Sure, there were agents here with extraordinary gifts. Agent Jim, for example—with that unnatural super strength. Or Agent Angela and her photographic memory—she could recall entire pages of documents after glancing once. Then there was Agent Jones, X-Division's elite tracker, whose rare synesthesia let him see sound and taste smells. He was an army all on his own, a masterpiece of multi-sensory perception.

Nick knew all this.

And yet… he still felt inferior.

Always had.

But now? Looking at the boys? This was worse.

These weren't just talented kids. They were Hell-forged. They were something else entirely. Superhuman. Superhero-adjacent. Born protagonists in a story he didn't belong in.

And he'd already made himself their enemy.

His mind spiraled. Dread pooled in his gut like mercury. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?

Agent Jim finally broke the silence as they entered the loading bay of X-Store.

"Hey—was that a Naruto Ninja Run you two pulled back there? You guys fans?"

Despite his huge, muscle-bound frame, Jim was a certified anime junkie. Japanese animation was his religion. And Naruto? His holy book.

Samuel and Danny instantly lit up. "You recognized it?" they said in sync.

"You watch Naruto too? Man, it's good to find fellow fans!" Danny beamed.

And just like that, the three of them launched into a rapid-fire nerd-off—tossing anime titles, multiverse theories, Marvel-DC power debates, fanfic ideas, and shipping wars like old friends at a convention panel.

The other agents watched, blinking in confused silence.

Jim, however, looked like he'd just discovered his long-lost clan.

Upon reaching the gym, Agent Nick clapped his hands sharply.

"Everyone—hand over your smartwatches. I'll print out today's training reports. We'll review the stats."

He barely waited as the agents complied, his fingers twitching with urgency. He wasn't interested in anyone's data—except the boys'. He needed to know. Their speed. Their vitals. Their weaknesses. During intense physical exertion, a workout report could reveal everything from stamina reserves to hidden medical anomalies. As a seasoned trainer, Nick could dissect the smallest patterns.

Normally, no one paid attention to these reports unless there was something unusual. Most agents just waited for the email summary post-session. But when Nick made a point to print the reports immediately, everyone understood: he wanted to see their numbers.

"I'll follow you," Agent Angela said quickly.

The others trailed after her—all except Agent Jim, who was too deep in anime discourse with the boys to care. The three of them unstrapped their watches and tossed them to Nick before diving back into a debate over whether Goku could beat Saitama if the latter had chakra control.

Nick had planned to review the reports alone—but the others had different ideas. They crowded into the office with him, clearly just as curious. He couldn't refuse.

Sighing, he plugged the smartwatches into the terminal, one after the other. Downloading. Syncing. He hesitated… then opened the file.

His face went pale.

"How… how is that possible…?" he murmured, staring at the screen like it was possessed.

"Tell me this isn't real…"

He leaned closer, petrified. Like he'd stared Medusa in the eyes and turned to stone.

Angela stepped forward and gently turned the monitor toward herself.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The other three agents leaned in.

Silence.

Shock.

The boys… had done two full laps.

First lap: roughly 30 minutes.

Second lap: 15 minutes flat.

Every understanding of human physiology shattered in that moment.

Angela blinked, hands trembling. Then she snatched her phone and dialed furiously.

"Chief. Come to the office. Now. It's urgent!"

Without another word, she hung up, printed out both boys' full reports, and skimmed every line.

Vitals: normal. Blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels—textbook perfect. Just like healthy young men.

But the speed?

Impossible. Comparable to Yellow or even Orange threat-level demons.

Are they really human? Can we trust them?

What if they're demons in disguise—planting themselves inside X-Division?

The questions spiraled.

Meanwhile, Agent Nick sat stiffly in his chair, staring blankly. His mind went white. His breath shallow.

He was having a full-on mental breakdown.

Briefing Room, 30 Minutes Later

Agent Vick sat at the head of the table, the boys' stat reports in front of him. His fingers tapped against the file slowly, his face unreadable.

He'd already been briefed by Angela. What they saw. What they didn't believe they saw.

"Where are the boys now?" Vick asked calmly.

Angela cleared her throat. "They're… with Agent Jim."

"Doing what?" Vick narrowed his eyes.

She paused, awkward. "In deep… um… discussion? I think?"

"Discussion?" His brow twitched. "About what?"

Angela tried not to shrink. "Cartoons… I think. Something like… Noruto? Nabuto? I didn't really catch the title. But definitely some kind of anime. And movie debates. Marvel, I think?"

For a moment, Agent Vick just stared.

Then… he laughed.

A real laugh. Loud. Unrestrained. Almost unhinged.

"God must be crazy," he whispered under his breath, shaking his head. "To give kids like this that kind of power…"

He stood up, expression shifting to razor focus.

"I want everyone in this room to treat this as confidential," he said, voice steady and cold. "You do not share this data. You do not speak about this to anyone—especially not to the Demon Agents. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

"Keep monitoring them. Study their limits. Push them subtly if you can. I want quiet updates on their progress. Don't let them know we're tracking anything. Let them be themselves. But I want full visibility. And if you catch anything strange—anything—report directly to me."

The agents absorbed the command like a mission carved in stone.

Angela hesitated.

Vick noticed. He gave her a small nod, signaling permission to speak.

She swallowed.

"Chief… are you sure they're human?"

He tilted his head.

"Maybe they're demons… in disguise?"

Agent Vick smiled, calm and strangely cryptic.

"In my thirty years of fighting demons, I can tell you—without a shred of doubt—they're not demons."

He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp as a blade drawn under moonlight.

"But one thing's for sure…"

"They might be worse."

He chuckled—low, deliberate, ominous.

"They're capable enough to bring nightmares to demons."

To Be Continued.