The stage was swallowed by thick darkness, even the air seemed to harden into ink.
Then, in that pitch-black silence—a single spotlight cut through the gloom and illuminated the left side of the stage.
Within the beam stood a blonde girl in a white dress, her figure quiet and ethereal. Her eyes were closed, her lips gently parted— and then, a song bloomed from her throat, tender and haunting, like vines curling beneath the moonlight, entwining with the faint tremor of drums and the shy hum of an electric guitar.
"Cos…" (Just because)
"I was afraid…" (I was terrified)
"Was alone…" (I was alone)
"In a cave…" (In this cave)
"Like a stone…" (Like a stone)
Her voice was soft, tinged with a faint, damp hoarseness— like someone whispering to an echo in a lonely valley. Yet each syllable struck cleanly against the rhythm's folds.
As her final note lingered, the once-lazy drumbeat began to accelerate. The guitar, once merely flickering, roared to life—like thunder rolling from afar. The entire stage trembled.
"This!" (This!)
A sharp male voice suddenly tore through the darkness, like lightning cleaving a heavy cloud.
Dozens of colored lights burst from the depths of the stage, and the sea of audience members below was instantly illuminated— then erupted into a tsunami of cheers.
"Dance is so dangerous!" (The dance steps are so dangerous!)
A spotlight locked onto the stand mic at centre stage. Behind it, a man with wild white hair stood in its blaze, fingers drawing a wailing cry from his electric guitar.
His body swayed violently with the rhythm; white strands traced arcs through the light, yet his face remained sharply beautiful.
"So cryptic it changes us," (Yet so mysterious, it changes you and me)
"But the secrets that we learn," (The secrets we learn)
"Can give power to all of us." (Will ultimately give us endless power)
His voice, burning alongside the guitar's frenzy, igniting the entire hall. The crowd screamed his name. Girls, tears glittering between their fingers, shouted until their throats broke.
"Nero-kun~!"
"Ah—!!!"
"Nero-kun, look here—!!"
The drumbeat crashed again, twisting with the guitar's roar into a wild torrent.
Sweat glistened along the man's jaw, dripping onto the silver strings like sparks.
As his hand struck a new chord, the arena detonated with noise.
"Destination I (The final destination)!"
"Gotta invitation I (I am bound to reach)!"
"Of reality (This real world)!"
"Gonna change reality (Is bound to change)!"
Every lyric was an electric shock, sending tremors through the audience as the sea of glowsticks surged—a river of light rising and falling to his voice. At the climax, all instruments cut off at once. The silence that followed struck like a stone in boiling water—the cheers exploded, deafening, unstoppable.
Glowsticks danced like stars. All eyes fixed on the man at center stage. He bent over, gasping. A bead of sweat rolled down his chiseled face, fell onto the stage, and burst like dark ink.
The girls screamed even louder.
"Nero-kun, look here!" "I'm here, Nero-kun!"
He straightened, wiped his face, and smiled—a roguish, dazzling smile that melted the air.
"Hello everyone! Welcome to the Concert! I'm Nero!!"
The audience erupted again.
"Nero! Nero! Nero!"
Nero grinned, waved to the crowd, and turned to the band behind him. Drums rolled; the electronic prelude swelled. The atmosphere ignited once more.
"Next up—aLIEz!"
The music thundered through the theater, his white hair whipping in the light,
his voice a storm that swept every heart away.
>>>>>
"Ah, that guy drenched in sweat on stage? That's me. My name is Taisai Tensei.
Nero's just my stage name."
Quite handsome, right?
"From the songs I sang, you probably already guessed—I'm a transmigrator.
Or reincarnator. Kinda both."
He laughed lightly.
"In this world, I grew up normally. Nice family, nice country. Then my parents died in a car accident—and all the memories of my previous life suddenly returned."
"That's when I realized—my memories had always been sealed. And I remembered how I came here. Not a god duel. Not a truck. I got hit by a meteor fragment or dust??."
Lucky no one else was around. Unlucky me.
"After that strike, two weapons appeared inside me— Yamato, the blade that slices through dimensions, and Ryūjin Jakka, the fire that burns everything to ash."
Familiar? Vergil's blade, and Old Man Yamamoto's sword.
"They fused with my body, constantly reshaping it. The white hair? That's Vergil or Yamato's influence. Guess I'm part of the Sparda bloodline now."
He smirked.
"No others advantage pop up. Just two legendary swords. I thought this meant the world was terrifyingly dangerous (since it was a super strong sword). Then, I met her."
"That girl singing on stage earlier? Kitagawa Marin."
"Yeah, that Marin. From My Dress-Up Darling."
And that wasn't all. His high school classmate was Kato Megumi. In the next class—Yukinoshita Yukino and Shinomiya Kaguya. A wry smile crossed his lips.
"Tell me—if all these heroines are here, doesn't that mean their worlds have merged?"
"Oh, and yeah, Kitagawa Marin is my girlfriend. Not the fifteen-year-old version—
the eighteen-year-old one! We already in university years now"
"After learning all this, what else could I do but enjoy this daily life?"
"So yeah—I sing for living now. My looks? Modified by Yamato and Ryūjin Jakka.
Become what it is like Taisai Seikun but with some touch here and there after being modified."
He chuckled.
"No system. No magic. Just me, my guitar, and the playlist in my head."
"Step one: make money. Step two: invest. Step three: enjoy the world. Easy!"
A feminine voice interrupted his internal monologue.
"He~y, Tensei-kun~ What are you grinning about?"
He blinked. Kitagawa's face was right in front of his, eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Ah—haha, nothing, Marin."
She giggled, kissed his cheek, then casually slid onto his lap, her arms looping around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Nee nee~ Halloween's next week, right? How about a da~te~?"
Her breath tickled his ear, sweet as violets.
"A date? Of course! Where to?"
"Shibuya."
And just like that—the gears of fate began to turn again.
>>>
Shibuya, October 31st—by seven in the evening, the entire district was already overflowing with people.
Neon signs blinked one after another above the crowd. On the giant screen of Shibuya Scramble Square, looping Halloween animations bathed the street in orange light, and even the traffic signal mascot had a pumpkin head Photoshopped onto his tiny body—eliciting laughter each time it flashed.
A boy in a black cloak squeezed past, clutching a tuft of cotton candy. As the hem of his cloak brushed Kitagawa Marin's ankle, the faint, cheap scent of pumpkin spice drifted up.
Nearby, three girls wearing devil horns tugged playfully at each other's lace skirts, their glow sticks painting bright yellow streaks in the air—their laughter sharper and purer than the drunken shouts spilling from the izakaya.
Someone with a zombie-painted face stumbled dramatically through the crowd, bumping into couples, waving a fake severed hand as people laughed and shrieked.
This was Shibuya's Halloween: chaotic, dazzling, and sweetly restless.
Pinned against the intersection railing, Taisai Tensei looked down at the girl in his arms. Marin tugged at his sleeve, standing on tiptoe to peer around. The little devil tail behind her brushed lightly against his hand.
Her hair was dyed wine-red tonight, paired with a black off-shoulder crop top trimmed in white lace, and tight leather pants that accentuated her perfect figure.
"They're selling candy apples over there!" she exclaimed, pointing excitedly toward a street stall. "Last year they ran out of strawberry jam—I need one this year!"
Taisai chuckled, gently catching her wrist, his fingers brushing the tiny bell on her bracelet—a decoration she'd added just for tonight, jingling with each step.
"Don't bounce," he said. "Three more steps and we're there."
His white hair swayed as he turned, the strands grazing her cheek. She shrank her neck instinctively.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the noise. Several boys dressed as knights were grinning at them, one lifting his phone to snap a picture. "What a perfect match!" one shouted.
Marin's ears flushed red, but she boldly leaned into Taisai's arms, looping her hand around his neck.
"They're complimenting my taste," she teased—just as the light turned green.
The crowd surged forward like a wave. Taisai pulled her close, shielding her from a pumpkin-headed dancer that nearly collided with them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar glow from a billboard—the Devil May Cry concert poster, his own photo from last week flashing under the lights: white hair, electric guitar, caught mid-performance.
Marin followed his gaze and then giggled, standing on tiptoe to peck his chin. "Next concert, you're not allowed to go shirtless again."
Before he could reply, she tugged him into the flood of people. By seven-thirty, the streets were a sea of motion. Marin held an oden skewer, spearing a piece of soft radish and offering it to him with a grin.
"Ah—open wide."
He took the bite obediently, then returned the gesture, feeding her a slice of fish cake soaked in broth. Around them, laughter, music, and the scent of roasted chestnuts blended into a dizzying carnival haze.
Then—everything shifted. A jolt ran through Taisai Tensei's body. His hand stopped mid-motion. The smile vanished from his lips.
Marin blinked. "Tensei? What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. His gaze was locked on the sky. To her eyes, only dazzling billboards and animated pumpkins danced above—but in his, the sky had already changed.
Black mud oozed silently into existence, as though poured from an unseen crack between dimensions. At first, it was only specks—but in seconds, it spread like a dam bursting, rolling outward to consume the sky.
The crowd below remained oblivious. The boy with cotton candy laughed, the girls in devil horns posed for selfies, and the lights of Shibuya continued to flicker in oblivious joy.
Taisai's brows knitted tight. The sensation crawling up his spine was icy, parasitic. Just looking at that thing made his skin crawl. 'What the hell is this?'
Marin's warm finger poked his cheek. "You've been staring forever. What's up there?"
He caught her wrist, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Maybe the lights were too bright."
But when he looked up again, the colors of Shibuya had dulled—as if soaked in ink. Even the giant screen looked faded, its Halloween animation nearly monochrome. Marin studied his face, then leaned close to whisper in his ear, her voice teasing, warm against his skin.
"If you space out again," she murmured, "my new succubus outfit will be for my eyes only, you know?"
Her words barely registered. A faint metallic odor—fishy, wrong—seeped into his nostrils. It wasn't food; it came from above. He tightened his hold on her hand.
"Come on, let's grab that candy apple. You wanted strawberry jam, right?"
She lit up instantly, her devil horns swaying as she clung to his arm. By the time they finished shopping, Shibuya's lights had dimmed into the deeper hues of night. The bells on Marin's bracelet jingled softly as they walked.
"Should we head home?" she asked. "The subway'll be packed if we wait any longer."
He nodded—or meant to—but froze mid-step.
A girl in a maid costume brushed past, but his eyes were locked on something else. For a split second, a white blur sliced through the crowd.
White hair. A black blindfold. A face he knew too well.
The shopping bag crumpled in his grip. Marin tilted her head. "Tensei? You're scaring me."
He didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the spot where the figure had disappeared, his pulse hammering. Under the blackened sky, Shibuya still sparkled as if nothing was wrong. The digital billboards laughed in vivid color. The crowd cheered and sang.
But he knew that silhouette. He'd cursed that man countless times in his past life.
'Why is he here?'
Marin shook his arm, her voice trembling. "Tensei—please, what's going on?"
He blinked, returning to the present. Her worried face filled his vision, her red-tinted hair glimmering under the neon. A soft smile curved his lips. He ruffled her hair gently, the cool surface of her little horns brushing his palm.
"Nothing," he said in his usual lazy drawl. "I was just thinking…"
He paused deliberately, watching confusion flicker in her wide eyes.
"…that we can't take the subway home anymore."
"Eh?! Why not?"
"Because," he said, eyes glinting under the neon, "the subway's too slow—and it's not exactly safe up here anymore, either."
"Huh? Then what do we do?"
He grinned, that same reckless grin from his concerts—the one that made entire crowds scream.
Leaning close, his voice dropped to a whisper that only she could hear:
"I'm going to show you a secret."