The atmosphere inside the Occult Research Club was brittle, a fragile glass construct moments away from shattering. It felt less like a high school clubroom and more like a bomb disposal site where the digital countdown had glitched, freezing ominously at one second.
The air warped.
Grayfia Lucifuge materialized from a silver magic circle, the geometric patterns spinning with complex mathematical precision. The ambient temperature of the room plummeted instantly, frost spider-webbing across the windowpanes to match the Silver-Haired Queen's icy demeanor.
Rias Gremory shot up from her high-backed chair, the legs screeching against the floor. Her crimson hair was disheveled, her eyes wide with a desperate, clawing hope.
"Grayfia! What did my brother say?" Her voice trembled, cracking under the weight of her impending marriage. "Did he destroy it? Did he say it was a trap?"
Grayfia smoothed the front of her maid uniform, her expression unreadable. "Lucifer-sama has reviewed the document."
The silence stretched, agonizing and thick.
"He has deemed it safe," Grayfia stated, her voice devoid of emotion, though a flicker of profound disbelief haunted her eyes. "In fact, Sirzechs-sama described the methodology as 'revolutionary.' He stated that the theory behind the internal energy recycling loop borders on artistic perfection."
Rias let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her legs nearly giving out. "So... I can use it?"
"You may," Grayfia nodded, her gaze shifting to the jagged hole in the wall Ren had left behind. "However, Sirzechs-sama has a condition. A non-negotiable one."
The room stiffened.
"He wishes to meet this Ren Ming. Immediately," Grayfia declared. "He believes a variable this unpredictable—an entity that acts like a void to our sensors yet exerts physical pressure capable of crushing High-Class Devils—cannot be left unchecked in Kuoh Town. Especially given the delicate state of the peace treaties."
Issei Hyoudou, who was currently wincing while taping a bandage over a cut on his cheek—a souvenir from cleaning up the debris—froze. "Wait, Sirzechs? Like, the Sirzechs? Your brother? The Satan?"
"Yes," Rias said, her expression darkening into serious contemplation. "If my brother is getting involved personally, this is far bigger than just my engagement. This is a matter of national security for the Underworld."
Rias turned her gaze to the mahogany desk. There, lying amidst the scattered paperwork, was the crumpled talisman Ren Ming had left behind.
It looked like garbage. Literally. It was a jagged scrap of printer paper with a geometric symbol drawn in what appeared to be black Sharpie. It possessed no magical aura, no holy divinity, no demonic fluctuations. It was an insult to the art of talismans.
"He said to pour energy into this," Rias murmured, reaching out.
She took a deep, steadying breath, channeling her crimson Demonic Power into her hand. The Power of Destruction, usually so volatile, flowed into the paper.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, the paper vibrated. The black Sharpie ink seemed to detach from the fiber, floating in the air like liquid smoke.
"Yo," Ren Ming's voice projected from the paper. It was crisp, high-fidelity, and utterly lacking in respect. "You reached the hotline. Who's this?"
Rias blinked, exchanging a bewildered glance with Akeno. The contrast between the gravity of the situation and the man's casual tone was jarring.
"Uh... hello? Ren Ming? This is Rias Gremory."
"Oh, hey Rias," the voice shifted, sounding significantly more pleasant, borderline charming. "What's the move? Did you guys figure out the cheat sheet, or did you accidentally blow up the school trying to read the first line? I've got twenty bucks betting on the school."
"We... we haven't started yet," Rias stammered, completely thrown off balance. "My brother, Sirzechs Lucifer, has requested a meeting with you. He wishes to discuss your... presence in this territory."
There was a pause on the other end. Static hummed, followed by a thoughtful noise.
"The big boss, huh? I figured he'd show up eventually. A bit sooner than I thought, but hey, efficiency is key." Ren Ming sounded unbothered, as if he were being asked to pick up milk rather than meet the ruler of the Underworld. "Alright, sure. I'm free. I'm actually hanging out with a new friend right now, so I'll bring her along. Is that cool? She's kinda anti-social, has some anger management issues, but I'm working on it."
"That is acceptable," Grayfia interjected, stepping closer to the desk, her voice sharp and commanding. "We will meet at the Gremory erratic space in the old school building. Immediately."
"Sheesh, demanding much? You maids are too serious," Ren chuckled. "Alright. Send the coordinates. We'll be there in five. Out."
The connection cut. The ink splashed back onto the paper, returning to being a motionless scribble.
...
Meanwhile, deep in the Familiar Forest.
Ren Ming pocketed the talisman and looked over at his companion.
The Chaos Karma Dragon King, Tiamat, was currently sitting on a conjured rock, sulking. She had repaired her midnight-blue dress with magic, but her ego remained visibly bruised. She was glaring at a small, demon-like squirrel scurrying across a branch as if she wanted to erase its entire lineage from existence.
"Alright, Blue," Ren said, clapping his hands together, the sound echoing through the silent trees. "Field trip time. We're going to meet some Devils."
Tiamat's head snapped toward him. Her vertical, reptilian pupils dilated, flashing with ancient irritation. "Devils? I have no interest in their politics. They are deceitful, arrogant, and they smell like sulfur and lies."
"Racist much?" Ren chuckled, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. "Look, it's not a request. I promised you entertainment, and watching high-ranking nobles sweat is top-tier content. Besides, the Red Dragon Emperor is gonna be there."
The temperature in the forest plummeted instantly. The lake froze over with a cracking groan. Frost began to crystallize on the leaves around Tiamat, the air twisting with chaotic malice.
"Ddraig..." Tiamat hissed. The name sounded like grinding stones deep within the earth. "The thief. The host is there?"
"Yep. Issei Hyoudou. Kid's a bit of a perv, kind of an idiot, wears his heart on his sleeve," Ren confirmed nonchalantly, checking his fingernails. "Has a big red gauntlet on his left arm. Can't miss him."
Tiamat stood up. A dark, chaotic aura flared around her like blue flames, warping the light. The sheer pressure of her killing intent caused the ground beneath her to crack. "Good. I will kill him. I will rip that gear from his arm, flay the flesh from his bones, and reclaim my treasure."
"Whoa, pump the brakes, crusader."
Ren stepped in front of her.
He didn't flare his aura. He didn't shout. He simply stood there, hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking her dead in the eye with that calm, terrifying grey gaze. It was the look of a predator who didn't need to roar to prove he was the king of the jungle.
"We are going there to talk," Ren said, his voice dropping an octave, losing all traces of playfulness. It was a command, heavy and absolute. "You aren't killing anyone unless I say so. If you start a fight without my permission, I'm gonna have to put you in timeout again. And by timeout, I mean I'm gonna bench press you until you apologize. Do we have an understanding?"
Tiamat flinched. The memory of being ragdolled—of being thrown into a mountain by a human who hadn't even broken a sweat—was fresh and humiliating. She gritted her teeth, her aura retracting, though the hatred in her eyes remained molten.
"I... will restrain myself," she muttered, looking away, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and shame. "But if the Red Dragon speaks to me, I make no promises."
"Fair enough," Ren grinned, the terrifying pressure vanishing instantly, replaced by a dazzling, charming smile. "Just play nice. Fake it 'til you make it. Alright, grab on."
He offered his arm.
Tiamat stared at it. Dragon Kings did not link arms. They did not stroll. They did not accompany humans as dates. Yet, standing next to him, feeling the strange density of his existence, she felt a bizarre sense of stability. His gravity anchored her chaos.
"Express travels," Ren whispered as she hesitantly looped her arm through his. Her skin was cool, contrasting with his burning vitality.
Space distorted.
It wasn't a magic circle. It was a violation of physics. The Immortal Soul Bone calculated the spatial coordinates instantly, and the Ancient Ming Bloodline forced a wormhole open through brute force. The world bent, and they vanished.
...
The meeting location was a barren wasteland—a pocket dimension usually reserved for high-stakes Rating Games where terraforming and collateral damage were expected. The sky was a dull, bruised purple, and the ground was hard, cracked earth that stretched endlessly.
Rias, her peerage, and Grayfia stood waiting. Next to them, a massive magic circle of crimson and black expanded, intricate glyphs spinning wildly.
Sirzechs Lucifer stepped out.
The Satan Red wore his ceremonial armor, the gold and crimson metal gleaming under the false sky. His long red hair flowed in the wind, and his cape snapped behind him. He looked regal, powerful, and oddly cheerful.
"It's been a while since I've felt this kind of anticipation," Sirzechs noted, looking around with bright green eyes. "Grayfia says he feels like a 'void'? That he doesn't register on magical signatures?"
"Yes, Sirzechs-sama," Grayfia nodded, her hand resting near her hip, ready to summon her artillery at a microsecond's notice. "He defies scanning magic. It is as if he is a blank space in reality."
"Interesting..."
BOOM.
There was no portal. No tear in the fabric of space. Ren Ming simply arrived.
He dropped from the sky like a meteor, landing fifty meters away. The impact was visceral, shaking the entire dimension. A cloud of dust and pulverized rock rolled over them like a sandstorm, forcing the devils to shield their eyes.
As the dust cleared, two figures became visible.
Ren Ming stood with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, looking as if he were waiting for an Uber. Beside him stood a woman of breathtaking beauty, radiating a cold, draconian pressure that made the air taste like ozone.
Issei's knees knocked together. The aura coming off the woman was suffocating—far worse than Riser.
"Ddraig..." Tiamat whispered. Her eyes locked onto Issei's left gauntlet immediately, burning with thousands of years of resentment.
'Partner, be careful!' Ddraig's voice roared in Issei's mind, sounding genuinely panicked for the first time. 'That's Tiamat! The Chaos Karma Dragon King! And she looks pissed!'
"Yo," Ren Ming called out, breaking the lethal tension. He waved casually. "Sup, Satan Red. Nice armor. A bit flashy for a Tuesday, but you rock it. Gives off major 'Final Boss' energy."
Sirzechs blinked, then chuckled. The informality was refreshing in a world suffocated by etiquette. "Ren Ming, I presume? And... I did not expect the Chaos Karma Dragon King to accompany you. This is quite the entourage."
"She followed me home," Ren Ming joked, ignoring Tiamat's indignant huff and pinch at his arm. "So, let's cut the small talk. I'm not really a 'politics' guy. You wanted to see if I'm legit, right? You want to know if I'm a threat to your little sister or a potential asset."
Sirzechs's smile remained, but his eyes sharpened. The playful brother vanished, replaced by the Lucifer. "Direct. I like that. Yes. The 'Scripture' you provided is fascinating, but power without context is dangerous. I wish to know the nature of your strength. Are you a Mage? A Warrior? A Sacred Gear user?"
"Cool," Ren Ming nodded. He cracked his neck, the sound echoing loudly in the silent wasteland. "How about we skip the interview and go straight to the practical exam? It's easier for you to just see my power. You throw something at me. I throw something at you. We see who's still standing."
"You wish to spar with me?" Sirzechs asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone. "Here? Now?"
"Why not? We got space," Ren Ming shrugged, gesturing to the barren wasteland. "Unless the Maou is scared of getting his shiny armor dirty?"
The Gremory peerage gasped. Issei looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
Insulting the Lucifer?
That was a death sentence. That was begging to be erased.
But Sirzechs just threw his head back and laughed. "Hahaha! Excellent! It has been centuries since someone challenged me so casually! Very well, Ren Ming. Let us exchange... greetings."
"I won't use my full power," Sirzechs called out, his aura beginning to manifest.
The world turned red.
A deep, crimson light bathed the field. It wasn't just light; it was heavy. It felt like destruction incarnate. The ground beneath Sirzechs's feet began to disintegrate into nothingness, not burning, just ceasing to be.
"But I will not hold back the Power of Destruction," Sirzechs warned, his voice echoing with the distortion of pure power.
"Cool," Ren Ming nodded. He didn't take a stance. He didn't summon a weapon. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking bored. "Give me your best shot, Red. Don't worry about breaking me. I'm sturdy."
"Very well."
Sirzechs raised his hand.
A sphere of pure Destruction Magic, the size of a basketball, condensed above his palm. It wasn't large, but the density was terrifying. Space warped around it, screaming as the laws of physics were deleted in its vicinity. It was enough power to vaporize a mountain range, condensed into a single point.
"Ruin."
He fired it.
The sphere moved instantly. It didn't travel through space; it erased space to get to its target. It was a beam of absolute negation.
Ren Ming didn't move.
As the sphere of annihilation reached him—inches from his face—Ren's eyes flashed grey.
The Hell Suppressing Immortal Physique roared to life.
It wasn't a magic spell. It was a Law. It was the weight of a billion hells, a concept of absolute heaviness and suppression that dated back to the primordial era.
Ren didn't use a technique. He didn't use a spell. He simply exerted his Will and Bloodline onto the reality in front of him.
He punched.
It was a simple, straight right punch. No fancy martial arts. No fluidity. Just raw, unadulterated kinetic force backed by the concept of Suppression.
CRACK.
The sound wasn't an explosion. It was the sound of reality shattering. It sounded like a god snapping a cosmic bone.
Ren Ming's fist collided with the Power of Destruction.
Normally, flesh touching the Power of Destruction would be erased instantly. But Ren's bloodline was the apex predator of energy. The Ancient Ming blood surged, boiling in his veins, devouring the chaotic energies of the world.
For a split second, the crimson light struggled against a grey void. The Concept of Destruction fought against the Concept of Suppression.
Then, Ren Ming's force won.
The sphere of Destruction didn't just explode; it was shattered. It broke into harmless sparks of red light, scattered like confetti.
The shockwave from the punch continued forward. It ripped through the air, tearing a trench through the unbreakable magical earth of the barrier. The vacuum created was so intense that the ground liquefied.
The invisible force rushed toward Sirzechs.
Sirzechs's eyes widened. For the first time, he felt the cold prickle of mortality. He threw up both hands, creating a massive wall of defensive destruction magic.
BOOM!
Sirzechs slid back ten meters, his heels digging deep furrows into the bedrock. Smoke hissed from his gauntlets. His defensive wall was cracked—actually cracked.
But the shockwave didn't stop there. It hit the edge of the arena. It hit Grayfia's barrier.
The barrier, capable of withstanding nuclear strikes and God-class magic, shattered like cheap glass.
The wind pressure exploded outward toward the spectators—Rias and her peerage. They stood frozen, watching a tsunami of kinetic force rushing toward them to turn them into paste.
Ren Ming, despite being the one who threw the punch, flicked his left finger. He didn't even look back.
Petrifying Immortal Light: Absolute Defense.
A hexagonal wall of grey light materialized instantly in front of Rias and her peerage. It wasn't a barrier of energy; it was a barrier of solidified space-time.
The shockwave of the clash slammed into it and... stopped.
The barrier didn't budge. It didn't ripple. It simply told the kinetic energy 'No.' The force washed around them, carving the landscape on either side, leaving the peerage standing on a safe island of earth amidst a canyon of destruction.
Silence.
Absolute, ringing silence.
Ren Ming stood amidst the dust, blowing on his knuckles. "A bit tingly," he muttered. "Not bad."
Sirzechs lowered his hands. His sleeves were torn, and there was a look of pure, unadulterated shock on his face.
"You..." Sirzechs breathed out, straightening up. His voice was filled with awe. "You punched Destruction itself. And you suppressed it. You treated the power of the Baels like a physical object and broke it."
"Yeah," Ren shrugged, walking over as if nothing had happened, his sneakers crunching on the glass-like ground. "Your destruction is cool, but it's just energy. If it's energy, I can hit it. If I can hit it, I can break it. Physics... sort of. Also, my bloodline gets hungry. Thanks for the snack."
He looked at the barrier he had erected around the others, which was still humming with a heavy, ancient power, far denser than anything Grayfia had ever produced.
"Sorry about the barrier," Ren Ming smiled wryly, scratching the back of his head. "Didn't mean to break yours, Grayfia. I got a little bit excited. It's been a while since I could stretch without breaking the planet."
Grayfia stared at him. For the first time in centuries, the strongest Queen was speechless. She looked at Sirzechs, then at Ren, her mind failing to calculate the variables.
Sirzechs began to laugh.
It was a hearty, genuine laugh that shook his frame. He walked over, ignoring the destruction around him, and clapped Ren on the shoulder.
"Ren Ming! You are truly full of surprises! That punch... I felt actual danger. For a moment, I saw the abyss." Sirzechs grinned, the thrill of battle lingering in his eyes. "You are not just a wanderer. You are a monster!"
"Takes one to know one," Ren Ming grinned back, utterly unfazed by the title. "So, did I get the job? Or do I need to send a resume? I'm terrible at cover letters."
"You are hired," Sirzechs said firmly. "In fact, I would be honored if you would guide my sister. Someone with your... unique perspective is exactly what she needs."
"Cool," Ren Ming shook his hand. "But I do it my way. No interference. No 'devil tradition' BS. If I tell them to run laps around the underworld, they run. If I tell them to fight a dragon, they fight."
"Agreed," Sirzechs nodded. "Grayfia will supervise, but you have autonomy."
"Sweet."
Ren Ming turned to the terrified peerage.
Rias was trembling, clutching the paper talisman. Akeno looked like she was witnessing a deity. Issei was on the floor, his mouth agape.
Tiamat was smirking in the background, clearly pleased that the "Red One" had been pushed back.
Ren Ming walked up to them, his shadow looming large. He clapped his hands together, the sound snapping them out of their trance.
"Alright, kiddos. Recess is over," Ren Ming announced, his grey eyes gleaming with a sadistic, teacher-like amusement. "You saw the demo. Now comes the work. Training starts... right now."