The night on the outskirts of Kuoh breathed with dampness and the smell of old concrete dust. The dim light of the sparse streetlamps didn't reach this abandoned quarter, leaving it at the mercy of thick shadows. Jin stood motionless behind the shell of a half-destroyed brick wall, blending into the darkness, silently observing the scene unfolding several dozen meters away.
On the cracked, weed-choked asphalt lay Hyoudou Issei, gasping heavily for air. His clothes were torn, a fresh, painful-looking burn smoldered on his shoulder, and his left arm, encased in a red mechanism, flickered dully, signaling a critical depletion of power. The boy was at the absolute limit of his current capabilities.
Above him, spreading black-as-pitch wings, loomed a woman. A Fallen Angel. Her face, contorted with cold, professional cruelty, held not a shred of doubt. In her right hand, she clutched a spear woven from blinding, concentrated light.
Jin was in no hurry to step out of cover. His enhanced mind was coolly calculating probabilities. Initially, he hadn't planned to interfere in this mess at all. The problems of the Gremory clan and their enemies were none of his concern. According to the scenario he knew, this perverted fool was supposed to survive somehow, overcome the pain, and take the next step toward his absurd dream.
But Jin was already here. His own presence in this city had become an anomaly, a stone thrown into calm water, sending unpredictable ripples outward. The basic conditions of the equation had changed. The plot could shift from its laid rails.
"If that idiot dies right now," Jin reflected pragmatically, not taking his eyes off the raised light spear, "the entire so-called canon, all the predictability of this world, will plunge into the abyss. Issei is the anchor. The only reliable reference point around which the absolute majority of events are built. Losing him means going blind. Losing understanding of what will happen tomorrow, and ending up in a chaos of random variables."
Pragmatic calculation outweighed a lazy unwillingness to get involved. Leaving this world without its protagonist was strategically unprofitable. It promised too many unnecessary problems in the future.
Jin took a step out of the shadow. His boots stepped silently onto the asphalt, but in the tense, ringing silence of the abandoned yard, even the faint rustle of fabric sounded distinctly.
The woman, already poised to plunge the spear down, whirled around sharply. A flicker of momentary surprise crossed her face. She hadn't sensed his approach. To her perception, he had simply materialized out of nowhere—a tall high schooler with light hair and a bored, utterly calm gaze of violet eyes.
"Iza... yoi?" Issei croaked, lifting his head with immense difficulty. His broken voice held a mixture of profound shock and a faint, desperate spark of hope.
"Who are you?" the Fallen inquired coldly. Quickly assessing the situation, she shifted her center of gravity, redirecting the spear's tip toward the new potential target. "Ordinary humans have no place here. Leave, before I decide you're a witness subject to liquidation."
"I was just passing by," Jin replied evenly, continuing to approach them with a leisurely, strolling gait. His posture remained relaxed, his hands resting in his trouser pockets. "And, I must admit, I'm growing weary of the fact that such farces are constantly staged on the streets."
The Fallen narrowed her eyes. This boy's behavior defied her well-honed combat logic entirely. No panic, no screams, no attempt to flee. Only a dull, arrogant indifference.
"You are either a clinical idiot or suicidal," she stated harshly. "This boy is a devil. Destroying creatures like him is our direct duty and obligation. I won't say it twice."
"Kalawarner, if I'm not mistaken?" Jin uttered the name, easily retrieved from his enhanced memory's archives, in the tone of a bored clerk reading a report. "Let's skip the pompous speeches about duty. You are wasting my time."
This calm, bordering on blatant disregard, pierced the armor of her professional composure. The black feathers behind her back twitched irritably. The pride of a being who stood above humans overcame her caution.
"Insolent brat," she hissed.
Kalawarner wasted no more words. She made a sharp thrust with her hand. The light spear tore from her fingers, transforming into a blinding beam buzzing with tension, aimed directly at the center of Jin's chest. The attack was swift, precise, and lethal.
Issei instinctively shut his eyes, unable to watch as the searing energy pierced his classmate's body through and through.
But Jin didn't dodge or leap aside. He simply took his right hand out of his pocket and, with a casual gesture, raised an open palm to meet the oncoming beam.
Clang.
A dry, sharp sound rang across the yard. The spear, woven from concentrated holy energy, slammed into skin. Nothing epic occurred. The solid, absolute physical flesh of Izayoi's shell simply stopped the blow, just as a monolithic concrete wall stops a raindrop. The lethal energy splashed out in pitiful sparks and instantly dispersed in the air without the slightest trace.
Kalawarner froze. Her pupils narrowed to the size of pinheads. The rational part of her mind refused to accept what she had seen.
Jin slowly lowered his hand, flicking the remnants of dissipating light from his fingers. Not even a reddening remained on his skin.
"Flimsy," he stated dispassionately. "Do you Fallen have anything more substantial in your arsenal, or do you rely solely on these cheap tricks?"
The momentary stupor gave way to cold, desperate fury in the Fallen. Realizing that ranged attacks were useless, Kalawarner beat her wings powerfully, closing the distance with astonishing speed. A short, pulsating blade of light materialized in her hands. She went into close combat, aiming the sharp edge directly at her opponent's throat.
To Jin, her rush appeared slow, as if she were moving through water. He evaded her line of attack with a minimal, mathematically precise shift of his body. The glowing blade sliced only emptiness, a millimeter from his face.
Before Kalawarner could register her miss and pivot for a second strike, Jin made a short lunge.
No complex techniques or superfluous movements. Only pure, terrifying speed and a precisely calculated physical impulse. His right elbow drove into her side, just under her ribs.
Crack.
The sound of breaking bones rang out in the silence like a gunshot. Kalawarner expelled all the air from her lungs in a sharp gasp. Her eyes flew wide with shock and blinding, paralyzing pain. Jin's blow didn't just break her ribs; it selectively knocked the wind out of her and instantly deprived her of the ability to resist.
She flew back several meters, collapsing heavily and awkwardly onto the asphalt, raising a cloud of gray dust. The Fallen coughed convulsively, clutching her side with both hands, trying to force her lungs to work again. The glowing blade in her hand flickered and extinguished without a trace.
Jin, without haste, without changing his stride, walked up to the figure crumpled on the ground. Issei, momentarily forgetting his own bleeding wounds, watched this scene with a slack jaw.
"What did you need him for?" Jin asked evenly, nodding towards Issei, looking down at the Fallen.
Kalawarner was breathing heavily, with a wheeze. Pain throbbed in her side, forcing her to think with crystal clarity and without illusions. The boy before her surpassed her in every parameter. Any resistance was futile.
"Orders..." she rasped through clenched teeth, staring at the asphalt. "He's a wielder... We were supposed to neutralize a potential threat..."
"Orders from whom? From Kokabiel?"
Kalawarner flinched. Hearing her commander's name from this human's lips was unexpected.
"Yes... He plans to..."
"Start a war. I'm aware," Jin cut her off dryly, curtailing unnecessary revelations. "But while I was on my way here, there was another energy signature. Not demonic and not yours. Holy, but different. Who was it?"
Kalawarner swallowed the salty blood that had pooled in her mouth. She had no choice left.
"A nun... A girl with Twilight Healing. We're hunting her too... She tried to heal this low-class devil but fled when... when our attack didn't go according to the initial plan."
"Twilight Healing. Asia Argento," the informational puzzle in Jin's head finally clicked into place. The canon was being followed, just with minor deviations.
"Where is she now?"
"In the old church... on top of the hill," the Fallen capitulated, lowering her head.
Jin silently looked at her for several seconds, processing the information. A clear chain of forthcoming events was forming in his mind.
He stepped half a pace back.
"Return to your Kokabiel," Jin said in a calm, businesslike tone. "Tell him to stay away from this city."
Kalawarner stared at him with disbelief.
"You... are letting me go?"
"There's no point in killing you right now," he answered coldly. "You're just a courier. So do your direct job. Deliver the message."
The Fallen didn't wait for him to change his mind. Overcoming the sharp pain in her broken ribs, she struggled to her feet, uncertainly spread her black wings, and, beating them heavily, rose into the night sky, striving to disappear from sight as quickly as possible.
Jin followed her with his eyes until the black silhouette dissolved against the dark clouds. Then he slowly turned to Issei.
The latter was still sitting on the ground, holding his wounded shoulder with his good hand.
Jin approached. His gaze swept over the burn on the boy's shoulder. Not fatal, but clearly requiring medical attention.
"Can you stand?" Jin asked, without superfluous emotion but also without the former icy sharpness.
"I think so," Issei winced painfully, pressing his palm against the asphalt, and clumsily, swaying, got to his feet.
"Call Gremory. Let her pick you up and patch you up," Jin instructed, taking his hands out of his pockets.
"Where are you going?" Issei looked at him with obvious worry. "That nun... Asia. She saved me. Tried to heal my wounds. If those winged psychos get to her..."
"I'll check the old church," Jin interrupted him shortly. "But don't harbor illusions, Issei. I'm not doing this for the sake of great justice or nobility."
"But you're still going there," Issei insisted stubbornly, a weak, sincerely grateful smile appearing on his battered lips. "Thank you. For everything."
Jin merely grunted quietly, turning toward the dark hill above which the silhouette of the abandoned church vaguely loomed.
"Idiot," he thought, striding confidently into the darkness.
The night wind stirred his light hair. The plot of this world was beginning to accelerate, gaining momentum, and Jin needed to keep his finger on the pulse, lest this story spiral out of control.