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The outcome of a battle between a Transcendent and an early Satan-class fighter held no suspense whatsoever.

Fortunately, Kuroka hadn't actually gone for the kill.

With her current power level, even a casual strike—nowhere near full strength—could instantly reduce this colosseum and everything within a hundred-mile radius to scorched earth.

But that would derail the entire decisive battle, not to mention completely mess up Bokue's arrangements. There was no way Kuroka would do something like that.

After all, Kuroka was an obedient good kitty!

She needed to wrap things up here quickly so she could go back and have fun making kittens with Bokue tonight. Delaying the great reproductive mission of the Nekomata race just for momentary satisfaction? Absolutely not!

MAKE NEKOMATA GREAT AGAIN!

And so, as the vast pillar of energy that had shot skyward from the arena finally began to contract and dissipate completely, all that remained on the central platform was the Nekomata girl—not a speck of dust on her—and the Current Demon Lord faction's deputy commander, unconscious and sprawled on the ground.

The spectator stands had fallen into dead silence. Everyone wore blank expressions, as if still processing that world-ending strike they'd just witnessed.

Even the Nekomata referee girl, who should have been announcing the results, stood frozen with her microphone, seemingly unable to believe she'd actually survived the terrifying aftershocks of such a battle.

After waiting far too long without hearing the referee's announcement, Kuroka on the platform let out a small, helpless sigh. She turned to look at the petrified Nekomata referee girl cowering in the spectator section, beckoning with her cat tail that extended from beneath her kimono like a crooked finger.

"Fellow Nekomata, don't you think it's about time to announce the battle results?"

"Uh... yeah..."

The Nekomata referee girl nodded vacantly. Only after responding did she realize what she'd just agreed to.

With an "ah!" she hurriedly stumbled through her words:

"TH-THAT'S... THE SECOND MATCH IS OVER! WINNER—OLD DEMON LORD FACTION'S KUROKA!! ALSO, MEDICAL TEAM BACKSTAGE, BRING STRETCHERS! QUICKLY!!!"

The referee's voice echoed through the colosseum.

Only when white-coated demon medics charged onto the platform with stretchers in perfect formation like something out of Attack on Titan did the spectators seem to break free from their time-frozen spell.

They began discussing in small groups, quickly building into an uproar.

❁❁❁❁

Meanwhile, having easily secured victory through sheer strength, Kuroka hummed her self-composed kitty tune as she practically skipped back to the lounge.

Unlike Venelana, who at least pretended to be tired after her match, Kuroka didn't bother with any act at all. The moment she entered the lounge, she made a beeline for Bokue, launching herself at him in a fierce embrace.

Then she transformed into a human cat ornament, her slender arms—still delicate and pale despite having just unleashed world-ending attacks—locked firmly around Bokue's neck. Standing on tiptoes, she continuously nuzzled her cheek against his collarbone.

"Bokue! Did you see big sister's strength just now? How was it, how was it? Pretty surprising, right?"

"Honestly, yeah, a bit."

Bokue didn't hide it, admitting straightforwardly.

"I was just thinking how I've been feeding you too well these years. You went from being chased all over by some High-Class Devil branch family members to casually one-shotting Satan-class opponents..."

"Of course~"

Without a shred of modesty, the Nekomata girl's nose tilted up proudly as she hummed twice, her twin tails swishing behind her like an overexcited dog's.

"So Bokue needs to keep feeding big sister lots and lots! That way big sister can get even stronger... Oh right, speaking of which, how big is the gap between us now?"

"The gap, huh..."

Bokue pondered briefly, then gently patted his own shoulder.

Kuroka: "?"

She didn't understand what the shoulder pat meant. Why was he being so cryptic?

"I mean it's about up to here on my shoulder."

Bokue cleared his throat and clarified.

"...Liar."

Kuroka suddenly pouted.

"Huh? Why would you say that?" Bokue leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

Kuroka kept her eyes half-closed, mumbling with pursed lips: "Actually, you already had the same strength as big sister does now back when we were at Mount Sumeru, right? So saying big sister's strength reaches your shoulder is just to make me happy, isn't it?"

"...Yeah."

Since Kuroka had called him out, Bokue couldn't keep playing dumb and nodded honestly.

Truth be told, he couldn't really quantify the actual power gap between himself and Kuroka.

If he had to describe it... maybe the difference of an entire pocket universe?

"Well, even so, big sister is still very happy~"

Kuroka's tone suddenly shifted as she smiled brightly.

"After all, just knowing Bokue has the thought of 'wanting to make Kuroka happy' already makes big sister super happy!"

"Hey, hey..."

Seeing the two getting increasingly absorbed in their conversation, Rias—who'd been standing with hands on hips waiting patiently—finally couldn't hold back. She stepped forward, clearing her throat to interrupt:

"So can we wrap this up? We don't have unlimited rest time. We need to decide who's fighting next."

"Oh right, about that..."

Bokue slapped his forehead, letting Kuroka continue clinging to him while fishing out the note Leohart had given him before the matches.

"Hmm, according to the plan, we're supposed to lose the next three matches in a row. Basically, no need for high intensity—just go up there, put on a show, exchange some moves back and forth to drag out the time, then trip over your own shoelaces and take a dive."

"That's way too obvious..."

Several black lines appeared on Rias's forehead.

What did he mean "trip over your own shoelaces and take a dive"? Like some clumsy teenage girl with a random pratfall?

"Doesn't matter. The Council probably knows this is just a performance anyway. Since both sides are playing with their cards on the table, it's fine to ham it up less."

Bokue spoke while confirming information on the tablet.

"So who should go next..."

"Then let me handle it."

The words had barely left his mouth when purple light flashed in the lounge without warning, magical teleportation energy rippling through the air.

The next second, Bokue felt his shoulder grow slightly heavier. Looking up, he saw a certain married demon had appeared, sitting on his shoulder with her little feet swinging playfully.

This intimate gesture immediately made Kuroka—still immersed in their private moment—bristle like an angry cat.

"Y-y-you... what are you doing sitting on Bokue's shoulder?? Get down right now!"

"Mm-hmm~"

However, Sheila merely waggled her finger with a smile.

"If we're putting on an act, then let me go. Playing with hearts and muddying waters—that's what dream demons do best, after all~"

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