The passengers of the crashed shuttle scatter in terror at the sight of the raging Hellhound Devil. Mox steels his nerves and orders those nearby to seek cover as he sizes up the monster.
"This must be what hit the side of the shuttle… just our luck," he says through gritted teeth. He narrows his eyes at the Devil's strange behavior and the deep gash on its side. "Already ran into some Hunters and tried to escape. Let's just hope they're hot on this thing's trail."
The Hellhound snarls, acting like a wild animal backed into a corner, looking for an exit from its situation. Its eyes dart across the streets and the crash site before it finally makes a move, charging at Mox with a wild look in its eyes.
Not taking a moment to hesitate, Mox grabs a twisted metal rod from the wreckage and takes a swing at the devil with all his might.
His aim is true as he smacks the beast across its massive maw, sending it a couple feet back.
The Hellhound shakes its head, then lunges and swipes at Mox as it tries to dice him with its jagged claws. Mox drops and rolls away, hearing the screech of the claws digging into the solid metal frame of the shuttle, tearing it apart like paper.
Mox scrambles to his feet and, with a furious battle cry, drives the metal rod through the open wound on the flank of the creature, causing black blood to flow profusely.
The Hellhound tries to howl in pain, but it can't as Mox pummels it with blows to the face. It swipes again with its clawed paw, forcing Mox back several steps, his boots scraping against the pavement as he fights to keep his balance.
The devil's glowing red eyes flicker as it looks down at the pole in the bleeding gash on its side and yanks it out with a guttural growl.
Thinking fast, Mox seizes a cracked steel door from the wreckage and swings it like a shield just as the Hellhound charges again. The impact rattles his bones, but he twists with the momentum and shoves the beast backward, slamming it into a pile of twisted debris. For a brief instant, the devil is pinned beneath the wreckage—until it bursts free with a furious snarl.
The Devil fixes its murderous gaze on Mox as it prepares another pounce. This time, as the Hellhound leaps, a bullet rips through the air and pierces its left shoulder, sending it crashing back several feet.
Mox whirls his head around for the source of the bullet, but his attention snaps back to the Hellhound as it drags itself to its feet.
Immediately, bright, ethereal chains erupt from the ground, coiling around the limbs of the demonic canine and trapping it as it thrashes violently.
In the confusion, a young man with a close-cropped haircut—no older than Mox—drops from a rooftop and lands with practiced grace. At once, Mox notices the uniform of the Devil Hunter Society, the very organization he dreams of joining.
The young Devil Hunter unsheathes a silver katana that gleams in the moonlight and mutters a few words before his weapon ignites with flames.
Flames surge along the blade, bathing it in firelight. His eyes harden with disdain as he charges forward, striking in a single, blazing arc.
His blade slices cleanly through the beast, igniting it from within. After a few seconds there's nothing left of the Hellhound but ashes scattered to the wind.
Mox is absolutely awestruck. Though this may not be his first time seeing his heroes in action, their ferocity and skill in battle never fail to leave him breathless.
Civilians begin to cheer as the threat is finally vanquished. Some walk up to the Devil Hunters and praise them for their heroic actions. Others even approach Mox, thanking the young man, who tries to act as humble as possible.
"Are you some kind of idiot? What the hell are you doing?" The harsh tone from the young Devil Hunter snaps Mox's attention from the people thanking him.
"I… I'm sorry?" Mox stammers out.
"You should've been looking for cover," he replies harshly, his voice edged with superiority. "Fighting a devil with no silver is practically suicide. You're lucky you weren't gutted."
A young lady with mocha-colored skin and auburn hair and a man with long, wild white hair—both dressed in the same uniforms and wearing the same cadet patches—stroll over. Mox spots a sniper rifle on the woman's back, no doubt the one used to wound the Hellhound.
"Why don't you lighten up, Kaisen," she says, overhearing the scolding. "Between pulling people out of that crashed shuttle and keeping that Hellhound busy, this guy's a hero. Right, Oz?"
The white-haired man surveys the scene with his arms crossed, speaking in a calm tone. "The last thing I expected was a civilian fighting that monstrosity. Lesser Devil or not, Hellhounds are nasty creatures. He's foolish… but valiant."
Mox stands a bit taller at the praise.
The one named Kaisen scoffs and shakes his head. "Valiant!? Has Seren been tainting you, Oz!? Captain Jonesy should be issuing some kind of fine to this man."
Mox's voice sharpens with irritation. "You want to fine me for protecting myself and others? If I wasn't here, who knows what this monster could've done while you three were hunting it down. Why don't you relax for a second, dude!?"
The cadet bristles at Mox's words, his eyes narrowing, heat seeming to flicker within them. "Address me as Cadet Chiosa. And if we hadn't arrived, you'd be dead. No more heroics. No more reckless stunts!"
The two men lock eyes. Neither gives an inch.
"Yo."
Before it can escalate, an older man steps forward, the weight of authority in every stride. A beret shades his brown hair, stubble rough across his jaw. His Devil Hunter Society uniform is worn but well-kept, marked with the rank of captain.
"Cadets. What are we doing? It's a crashed shuttle and several people need medical attention. Contact the proper services and help where we can."
The cadet scolding Mox gestures toward him.
"But this civilian was fighting with the Hellhound when we arrived. I was just setting him straight and letting him know the dangers," Kaisen says, side-eyeing Mox with irritation.
The captain raises an eyebrow at Kaisen, but before he can speak, the young female cadet, Seren, steps forward. "Captain, I think if this guy had some silver, that devil wouldn't have stood a chance," she says with conviction.
"Enough, you two." He cuts her off with authority. "Everyone has their orders. Move out." As the cadets disperse, his eyes settle back on Mox with an inquisitive look.
"You and I should have a talk. What's your name?"
Mox steadies himself before answering. "Moxley Gates. Sir, I wasn't trying to interfere with your squad's work. I just had no time to act after the crash. Even though that devil looked like it just wanted to flee, it was still a danger to people here."
The captain studies Mox with a stone-cold expression, then unexpectedly flashes a cool smile.
"I am Captain Dedric Jones, leader of Squad 13. Relax, Moxley. You're not in trouble with me. After all, you did risk your life to ensure others were safe from that Hellhound."
Mox nearly drops his shoulders in relief before the captain speaks again. "Don't breathe easy yet. I said you're not in trouble with me. Take a look at the underside of your left arm."
Confused, Mox turns his arm and notices a deep wound resembling the incinerated Hellhound's claws. The beast must've clipped him at some point in the battle.
"Crap!" Mox blurts, panic flashing across his face as he notices how deep the slash marks are carved into his flesh. He doesn't feel any pain, though—just a raw, unnatural numbness.
Captain Jonesy wraps the wound quickly, then places a firm hand on Mox's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "No need to worry. You'll head with us to HQ to get that looked at by a doctor. As soon as we finish up here, we'll be off."
Mox nods, rattled but trusting the captain's composure. He plops onto a curb, watching Squad 13 fan out to aid civilians alongside emergency services. He never notices Captain Jonesy stealing glances at the covered wound.
When the situation is finally under control, Mox climbs aboard a DHS transport with Squad 13. The ride takes him to the outskirts of the city, where the sprawling Devil Hunter Society Headquarters rises, guarded by towering gates that swing open as the transport nears, making Mox catch his breath.
The DHS Headquarters is massive, with several buildings dedicated to different branches of the organization. Even as the day draws to a close, Mox spots Hunters of various ranks training and bonding. He takes it all in, awe plain on his face.
The vehicle finally parks, allowing Mox to step onto the compound grounds. Jonesy walks alongside him and smirks at the look on the young man's face. "You ever thought about giving the Initiate Exam a go? It seems like you really want to be here."
Mox reddens with embarrassment, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah. Funny thing is, I've taken the exam three times already. I can't get past the damned written portion."
Jonesy laughs and pats Mox on the back. "Damn, kid, the minimum score can't be that high!" Mox swats his hand off with a scowl.
"Hey, old man. I don't need theories and formations to tell me how to kill Devils. All I need is some silver and a weapon," Mox barks, shaking his fist with confidence.
Unfazed, Jonesy smiles. "I like your spunk, kid, but don't call me old—I'm only 29." He dismisses his squad, then turns back to Mox. "Let's get you to the Medbay. That wound must be bugging you."
Mox shrugs as they walk. "Eh. It doesn't hurt more than any other injury I've had. I can't wait to see what else you guys have here."
The two fall into conversation—Jonesy drawing pieces of Mox's life out of him: his family, his determination, the failures that drive him forward. Jonesy reveals little about himself, but listens intently, finding the young man's story endearing.
By the time they reach the Medbay, there's an unspoken understanding between them. Jonesy pulls the Special Captain of the Medical Corps aside, exchanging quiet words before introducing Mox.
The medical staff examines him carefully, running tests on the strange wound. Mox tries to stay still, but the occasional prod sends jolts of pain through him.
When the examinations are over, Mox sits in a quiet room, tension heavy in his chest. Something feels off. He can't shake the memory of the way the two captains looked at him while whispering.
45 minutes later, Captain Jonesy and the Special Captain return with astonished looks that unnerve Mox. Finally, Jonesy speaks.
"Kid, you just might have a way into the Society."
Mox's heart leaps into his throat. "W—What do you mean?" he asks, voice trembling with excitement.
The Special Captain speaks up. "Son, it's common knowledge within the Society that when someone is wounded by a Devil, corruption takes root. The Dark Mana from their attacks eats away at the victim's psyche until there's nothing left but a mindless beast. The wound that Hellhound gave you… it should've started the process already. You shouldn't even be standing. This ability you possess has never been seen before!"
Mox is at a loss for words. With this ability to absorb Dark Mana, he would surely be useful in the fight against Devilkind. "So what happens now?" he asks, barely containing his excitement.
Captain Jonesy cracks a smile, amused by Mox's bubbling energy. "What happens next is you get to meet the most important person in the Society. The Master of the Hunt would like to see you."