Gilgamesh briefly considered crushing her windpipe.
It would be effortless.
A slight increase in pressure… and her life would end where she lay.
Raynare could never kill him. Even if she somehow managed a sneak attack and landed a blow, it would take far more than a few spears of light to inflict meaningful damage on him. Their difference in power wasn't merely large — it was absolute.
On the other hand, Gilgamesh could end her existence on a whim.
He had done it before.
Many times.
Sebas would approve.
Enkidu would understand.
And if other Fallen Angels pursued him for killing one of their own, he could easily claim self-defense.
There would be no conflict worth worrying about.
"I could kill you right now," Gilgamesh said casually.
Raynare's eyes widened instantly, moisture gathering along her lashes. She tried to speak, to protest — but the only sound that escaped her throat was a weak, broken squeak.
"But," Gilgamesh continued, his tone calm, almost bored, "you managed to irritate me for an entire day."
He slowly stepped off her.
Careful.
Deliberate.
The moment the pressure left her throat, Raynare collapsed forward, gasping desperately for air. Her trembling hands instinctively reached for her neck, rubbing the spot where his foot had pressed down moments before.
Gilgamesh walked past her and sat on the edge of the fountain, relaxed — as if they were having a casual conversation rather than standing on the border between life and death.
Raynare's muscles tensed.
Gilgamesh noticed.
Her leg shifted slightly — the subtle movement of someone preparing to run.
He sighed.
Then drew upon a tiny fragment of power from deep within himself.
A pleasant warmth spread through his stomach.
His eyes flickered — glowing a deep crimson for a brief moment.
Raynare lunged.
Gilgamesh exhaled.
A burst of fire erupted from his mouth.
The flames didn't strike her directly — not completely. Instead, the blast roared past her body, extending far beyond her position. The heat alone was enough to scorch the air, melting a nearby streetlamp into dripping metal before dissipating.
Raynare froze.
Her mind struggled to process what had just happened.
Slowly — mechanically — she turned back.
Gilgamesh watched her with a crooked, almost mocking smile.
"Still feel like running?" he asked.
His voice was quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
"You know, this barrier of yours works both ways. I could take my time roasting you alive and no one would ever know."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Or you could sit down and listen."
Raynare's legs trembled as she slowly lowered herself to the ground.
She understood.
There was no escaping.
Watching her shiver reminded Gilgamesh of a small rabbit trapped beneath a predator's gaze.
Fragile.
Terrified.
Interesting.
"So, Raynare," Gilgamesh said, resting his chin on his hand. "Let's start again. Who are you? Who do you serve?"
Every word seemed to hurt her.
Her arms subconsciously wrapped around her ribs where his punch had landed, confirming what he already knew — the bones were broken.
Through clenched teeth, she answered.
"My name is Raynare… I serve Grigori."
Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed slightly.
Grigori.
Not Kokabiel directly.
Not the Khaos Brigade.
Just Grigori — the Fallen Angels who claimed to protect humanity.
Irony.
The reason they targeted Issei was obvious.
A Sacred Gear that powerful, left uncontrolled, could cause chaos.
Once he became a devil, he would fall under supervision — and they would lose interest.
Asia's situation, however…
That was different.
Greed.
Corruption.
Nothing new.
"Continue," Gilgamesh said softly.
Under his quiet pressure, Raynare revealed everything.
A small Fallen Angel group had established itself inside an abandoned church at the outskirts of Kuoh.
Raynare.
Kalawarner.
Mittelt.
And their superior — Dohnaseek.
They were working alongside a rogue exorcist named Freed Sellzen.
Their goal was simple.
Steal Sacred Gears.
Currently, three targets existed.
Asia Argento — wielder of [Twilight Healing].
Issei Hyoudou.
And Gilgamesh himself.
Gilgamesh's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Where is the wielder of Twilight Healing?"
Raynare answered without resistance.
Asia Argento was scheduled to arrive in Japan on Wednesday, around noon, and would temporarily remain under their supervision.
A plan began forming in Gilgamesh's mind.
"You may leave," he said.
Raynare blinked.
She began to stand — hesitated — then turned back toward him, confusion and fear mixing within her violet eyes.
"You're… not going to kill me?"
Gilgamesh smiled.
A beautiful smile.
One that carried absolutely no warmth.
"Of course not."
Not yet.
"You should go," he said calmly. "Before I change my mind."
Raynare didn't hesitate again.
She fled.
Gilgamesh watched her leave, deliberately forcing himself not to focus on the way her nearly nonexistent clothing moved with each step — the contrast of pale skin against the dark night making the distraction far more noticeable than he cared to admit.
He sighed and turned his attention elsewhere.
Issei.
The boy should have died from the sword wounds.
But Gilgamesh had infused the weapons with a small portion of energy — enough to preserve life while forcing unconsciousness.
Approaching him, Gilgamesh prepared himself.
His eyes changed.
Purple irises.
Black concentric rings.
The eyes of destruction.
The eyes of creation.
The eyes capable of governing heaven and earth.
The Rinnegan.
"Let's begin," Gilgamesh said quietly. "Arashi. Regulus."
"Yes," Arashi replied.
"Right," Regulus muttered.
Gilgamesh paused.
"What's wrong, Regulus?"
"I don't like sharing my space," the Lion King answered bluntly.
Gilgamesh almost smiled.
"Do you object to Ddraig?"
A brief silence followed.
"If Arashi accepts it, I will," Regulus replied.
"That is acceptable," Arashi confirmed.
Gilgamesh nodded.
He placed his hand on Issei's head.
"Ningendō — Human Path."
With a sharp motion, Issei's soul was pulled from his body.
It appeared normal.
Except for the left arm.
A swirling mass of crimson energy pulsed there — the manifestation of Boosted Gear.
Gilgamesh grasped it.
Extracting a Longinus from a soul was normally difficult — even with the Rinnegan.
But two years spent among angels… among those closest to the origin of the Sacred Gear system…
Taught many things.
The energy separated.
Gilgamesh pressed it against his chest.
And absorbed it into his own soul.
"It worked," Arashi murmured.
"I can feel Ddraig," Regulus added. "He's asleep."
Gilgamesh exhaled quietly.
And nodded.
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