I am still alive. That is the good news.
The bad news is that Shinobu Kocho is a psychopath.
Yesterday afternoon, in the chemistry lab, she didn’t inject me with wisteria poison. Instead, she laughed—a terrifying, bell-like sound—and told me it was just a B12 shot to help with my "anemia." Then she made me scrub sixty-four test tubes while she watched, smiling that unholy, dead-eyed smile.
I escaped with my life, but my dignity was left somewhere near the Bunsen burners.
Now, it is Tuesday. And I am facing a crisis that rivals the fall of the Sengoku Period.
I am hungry.
Not "I could go for a snack" hungry. I mean Demon hungry. My stomach feels like a black hole trying to digest itself. Since the "Karmic Reformatory System" forbids me from eating humans (Rule #4: Cannibalism results in instant vaporization), I have to rely on substitutes.
According to my research—which involved frantic Googling at 3:00 AM—the closest nutritional equivalent to human flesh for a depowered demon is high-quality liver.
And today, the Kimetsu Academy cafeteria is serving the legendary "Premium Liver and Onion Set." Limited to fifty servings.
"Out of my way," I whispered, gliding through the crowded hallway.
I activated [Stealth Mode].
To the naked eye, I was just a gloomy student hugging the wall. But in reality, I was executing a high-level movement technique, utilizing the blind spots of the thundering herd of teenagers. I slipped past a group of gossiping girls, ducked under a flying backpack, and drifted into the cafeteria line like a phantom.
My eyes locked onto the digital menu above the counter.
[Premium Liver Set: 01 Remaining]
One left.
My heart—or the shriveled lump of coal that functions as one—leaped. I was going to make it. I reached into my pocket for my meal ticket.
I stepped up to the counter, my hand extended. "One Premium Liver Set, plea—"
"UMAI!"
A voice like a sonic boom detonated right next to my ear.
I flinched so hard my glasses nearly flew off my face. The sheer air pressure from the shout ruffled my perfectly styled hair.
Standing next to me was a human supernova. He had bright yellow hair with red tips that looked like literal flames. His eyebrows were thick enough to repel rain. And his eyes… his eyes were wide open, staring into the middle distance with an intensity that suggested he was watching a nuclear explosion in his mind.
Kyojuro Rengoku. The History Teacher (and apparently, the reincarnated Flame Hashira).
In his hands, he held a tray. On that tray was the last bowl of liver and onions.
"DELICIOUS!" Rengoku shouted again, seemingly to the ceiling. "TRULY TASTY! THE FLAVOR IS EXPLOSIVE!"
Every muscle in my body locked up. My "Yoriichi Migraine" didn't trigger, but my "Social Anxiety" meter maxed out instantly.
Do not engage, my survival instinct screamed. He is too loud. He attracts too much attention. Being near him is like standing next to a foghorn.
I slowly retracted my hand, preparing to fade back into the shadows and settle for a sad melon bread.
"HM?"
Rengoku swiveled his head. His gaze landed on me. It felt like standing in front of a searchlight.
"YOUNG KIBUTSUJI!" he bellowed. "GOOD AFTERNOON! YOU LOOK PALE! PALER THAN USUAL! LIKE A BOILED DAIKON RADISH!"
"I… uh… good afternoon, Sensei," I mumbled, shielding my eyes. The man actually radiated heat. Was that a Blood Demon Art? No, it was just his personality.
"DID YOU WANT THE LIVER SET?" He pointed to his tray.
"No," I lied immediately. "I hate liver. It’s gross."
"NONSENSE!" Rengoku slammed his tray down on the nearest table. "A GROWING BOY NEEDS IRON! COME! SIT! WE SHALL SHARE!"
"That’s really not nec—"
"I INSIST!"
He grabbed my shoulder. His grip was strong enough to crush a boulder. I felt my collarbone creak. Before I could protest, I was dragged to a table in the dead center of the cafeteria. The "Spotlight Zone."
I sat down, trembling. This was a disaster. I was the Lord of Demons, and I was being bullied into a lunch date by a man who spoke exclusively in caps lock.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.