The alley was narrow and reeked of wet garbage and copper. Something slithered in the dark, dragging claws that scraped against concrete. A low growl echoed.
Nirvikar exhaled once. Calm.
The thing lunged.
It was fast—but desperate. The shape of a man bug, but warped, twitching with too many joints. A devil of a Mantis, maybe. Low-tier. Its name didn't matter.
Nirvikar didn't dodge.
He let it come close. Let its jagged fingers swing toward his side—then his ribs warped. A mouth tore open along his waist, teeth grinding shut in a perfect snap.
The devil shrieked. Its arm was gone.
He stepped forward and drove a clawed hand through its chest and took it's core. There was no resistance. Just silence as it fell apart, evaporating into red mist and breathless fear.
He devoured the heart or it's core, then came the warmth. The familiar weight sliding into him. Another one joining the others in his Vessel.
---
It's been a month and a week since I got here. Since that first devil.
Since everything started to shift.
Ten devils before this one. Ten fragments of fear, stitched into my body like patchwork. They weren't powerful, not really. Not the kind that would leave a mark on the world. But they marked me. Bit by bit.
The second one I killed was the Tooth Devil. I remember that moment more clearly than the first. It wasn't the kill itself—it was what happened after. Something in me stirred, like a door had been unlocked. I flexed my fingers and for a heartbeat, they didn't feel like mine. They could become something else.
Claws. Teeth.
Mouths where mouths shouldn't be.
That was the first time I realized I could shape-shift. Not fully, but enough. Enough to never need a weapon again. I was the weapon now.
Then came the Tiger Devil. Stronger than the others. Its presence lingered in my spine—its instincts, its fury. I remember hating the fur when it showed all over me. It felt wrong. Too wild. Too far from human. But Mold something I didn't pay much attention did what it always does: it does what I wished for. Smoothed it into something usable. Durable. The fur became armor beneath the skin. Not visible, but there when I need it.
Some gifts were subtle from those I vesseled in these past month. The Puddle Devil didn't offer much, just a strange lightness around water. But now, puddles don't cling. My steps are quiet. Clean. Even in the rain.
The Crow Devil gave me feathers—speed, a bit of lift in my movement. Not flight, just grace. I can fall and land quieter than I used to.
The Echo Devil was barely a fight. But the way its presence echoes in my chest still lingers. I can throw sound now—steps in the wrong direction, distractions made from nothing.
Dust Devil left grit in my mouth, but now I can call up smokescreens of sand. Blinding, itching, choking—tiny annoyances, but deadly in the right moment.
The Shiver Devil made me cold and shiver when I met it. Now the cold doesn't touch me. I can lower the temperature a little around me. Nothing dramatic, just enough to make someone uncomfortable. Enough to slow a hand, make a body hesitate.
Mirror Devil was strange. It didn't resist. It watched me. And afterward... it felt like something in me grew more reflective. I started noticing patterns—mistakes. Not magically. Just clearer. I can form a shimmer now too, bend attention slightly. Not illusion. More like suggestion.
Paper Devil left me something too—thin blades, papercut-sharp. They flutter and vanish, but they buy time. Distractions, shields, tiny stings. And I don't fold under pressure as easily anymore. Maybe that's Mold again.
Then there was the Lighthouse Devil. Quietest of all. It didn't scream or fight—it just stood. When I took it in, I felt anchored. Like no matter how far I walked, I wouldn't get lost. And now, even in the dark, I can feel where I am. Sometimes I glow faintly when I'm thinking too hard. A soft reminder of where I started.
They were small devils. But each one gave me something. And Mold made them fit. It softened the inhuman. Sharpened the useful. Strengthened the vessel.
And the Vessel...
Lately it's been growing. I haven't taken in a devil for a week, but it's changing. Expanding. As if it's preparing for something.
Maybe it's not just me wanting more.
Maybe it wants more too.
I didn't understand the synergy at first—Vessel and Mold. Now I do. Vessel takes in the raw concept. Mold refines it, makes it mine. Not a parasite. Not a host. Just me. Becoming something else.
I can't remember what I looked like when I first got here. Not clearly. But I know I didn't move like this. Didn't feel like this.
And now, with another devil freshly dead and settling inside me... I wonder what it'll leave behind.
What part of me it will reshape next.
===========
**Underground Job Request – Restoration of Pachinko Basement**
The construction site buzzed with low chatter and the hum of old floodlights.
Nirvikar stepped through the entrance, the crunch of his boots against loose gravel echoing in the quiet. His hoodie was drawn low with a bag on his side, but his face had become sharper—more defined. He had noticed it in the mirror that morning. The changes were subtle, yet constant. His face was still the same, but now more handsome, cleaner, sharper. His hair and eyes remained black, just like they had been in his past
Stepping inside the room, Aizawa Rika, the Broker who had issued his commission, was already there—perched on a stepstool with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other.
"You're late," she said, glancing up with a raised brow.
He shrugged, pulling off his gloves. "Ran into a problem."
"Devil problem?"
"Small one. Didn't take long."
She took a smoke, pulling in a long drag. "You always come back in one piece. Makes you look either really lucky or really strong."
"Bit of both," he said. "But I'll take luck over strength most days."
"Mm. You're too modest for someone with a kill count." She leaned back a little. "You ever think of doing something more... ambitious?"
"Like what?"
Rika gestured vaguely. "Running your own little crew. Taking contracts. I know people. You've got presence. People follow that."
"I don't want to lead anyone," he replied flatly.
She tilted her head. "But you could."
"Doesn't mean I should."
Rika grinned. "Fair."
He set down his bag and started wiping grime off the storage cabinets. The two worked side by side in a quiet rhythm for a while.
"You find a new place yet?" she asked after a pause.
"Yeah. Not falling apart this time."
"Ooh. Fancy." She nudged him lightly with her elbow. "Guess I'm not the only one climbing up."
"I didn't say it was good. Just better."
"Still better's better. You'll need a fake file though—your name still doesn't pop up on any payroll lists."
"That's why I want to talk to you."
"Oh and here I thought you're here for another commission again." She flicked ash from her cigarette. "You know, you're getting attention."
Nirvikar didn't answer.
"After the fourth one, people thought it was a fluke," she continued, adjusting her coat collar. "By the sixth, you had eyes. Not just mine. There's a broker in Shinjuku keeping tabs. Some small gangs wanting to recruit you and even some Yakuzas paying attention."
Thoughts flicker in her mind.
Word travels fast in the underworld. Especially when someone starts stacking bodies—and not just human ones.
After the fourth devil turned up dead, whispers began. By the fifth, those whispers had names attached. Local syndicates, back-alley contractors, half-mad devil hunters, and old devils in new suits. They were all paying attention.
Nirvikar wasn't a name they knew before. Now it floated through smuggler dens and hush-call meetings like a rumor with teeth.
The way they saw it, someone was rising too fast, skipping steps that usually left people dead or possessed. He wasn't part of any group. No blood pact with a Yakuza limb. No chains to the government or safety division. And yet, devils were dying—fast, clean, and in patterns that felt more like hunting than self-defense.
It was strange, though. He didn't have the look of someone powerful. No massive aura. No overflowing presence. He was efficient. Quiet. Focused.
And the rumor that really got people curious?
He had a contract—but not just any contract. Not the kind that left your body twisted or your sanity leaking out your eyes. Whatever he made a deal with, it worked with him. Not over him. That kind of compatibility was rare.
Even so, Nirvikar wasn't a heavy hitter—not yet. There were still monsters walking the world, both devil and human, who could tear him apart in seconds. The top contractors, the cult-laced elites, the ones who danced with fear and made devils beg for mercy—they would laugh at him.
But the fact that he wasn't supposed to be winning, and still was, made people nervous. The underworld liked its monsters predictable. Nirvikar wasn't.
So now, the eyes had turned.
Some wanted to recruit him.
Others wanted to test him.
A few wanted to bury him before he grew teeth.
And a rare handful—those with vision—wanted to watch, just a little longer, to see what kind of devil he would become.
He looked at her finally. "And you?"
She smiled. "I like watching storms before they form. Helps me know which way to lean."
The alley reeked of iron and rain, but her voice was dry as dust.
"You're still small," she said. "Still soft. You're not making ripples like the big ones. Not yet. But the way you kill devils—fast, methodical—people are noticing. Contractors are slow. Their pacts come with chains. But you… you're moving like someone with a leash and the hand that holds it."
He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not fast enough to matter."
"No, but you're different. You're not just surviving—you're adapting. That Vessel devil you've contracted and whatever freakshow symbiosis you've got going—it's working. That scares people."
She took a drag, exhaled thoughtfully. "Some want to offer you a place. Some want to test how far you can bleed. And some... want to kill you before you get inconvenient."
A beat passed.
"Don't flatter yourself though," she added, glancing sideways. "You're still a nobody to the real ones. Division agents, old-world cultists, devils with names older than ours—they wouldn't blink before swatting you down."
"But," she leaned in just slightly, "if you keep going like this... you might become someone they can't ignore."
He looked down at his hand. It was faintly glowing. The Lighthouse Devil activated without him noticing, this might become a problem but for now He'll keep it out of mind.
"I'm not interested in being known," he said quietly.
She shrugged. "Too late for that."
She studied him. "You know… You should carve a place for yourself."
He didn't respond right away. His eyes were on the outside, the alley's end, where the streetlights began to blur in the drizzle.
"You keep killing devils like this, faster than contractors three years in," she went on, "and someone's going to offer you a seat. Or a collar."
"I'm not interested in collars," he said flatly.
"Then don't wait to be offered one. Take a seat."
He finally looked at her. Her expression wasn't mocking—just hungry. Focused. She wasn't older than him by much, but the way she talked, moved, watched—she'd been crawling through the underworld long enough to pick up the scent of opportunity.
"You want something," he said.
"Everyone down here does." She tapped her temple. "The trick is convincing others you don't."
"You're a small-timer."
She laughed at that. "For now. But I have plans. I know how the lower rings operate, which brokers can be bought, and what names *not* to say out loud. All I need is a hand that can break a devil's spine in three seconds." Her eyes gleamed. "You, Nirvikar, are my storm in a bottle."
He should've walked away. He didn't trust her—never would. But something about her reminded him of a younger version of himself. Ambition or a dream, the one he might've been if things hadn't fallen apart.
"You think I should dive into the politics," he muttered, more to himself.
"I think you already did," she said. "You just haven't realized it yet. The moment you killed that fifth devil, someone put your name on a wall. The kind of wall where names don't last long unless they keep climbing—or get erased. And now that you killed another devil, your tenth, people won't just watch anymore they'll act."
He was quiet. In his mind, the thought was already unraveling. Maybe he should play this game. Not to become a king—but to avoid being a pawn. He didn't care about Chainsaw Man, or the plot others were still chasing. Denji could burn in his own myth.
She watches him contemplate for a moment and after some time passed, she spoke and broke his thinking. "Anyways, If you want to forge some papers, I'll have to refer you to someone because I don't deal with those kinds yet."
"As long as that one is trust worthy it'll do." He spoke with measured tone.
"Pfft, hahahaha, Oh man, no one can be trusted in this world of ours, If you want trust, you should have been born normal."
She stretched "Haah~" She give him a piece of paper and said. "Go to this place any day but only at night, Say the password and tell him, Aizawa Rika refer me to you."
"Will do." He stood up, the words slipping from his lips as he left the building. She watched him go, her gaze sharp, reading him as he moved. Once he was out of sight, she hummed softly, her voice a breath of intent.
'I need someone like you, Nirvikar... I'll gain everything as long as you become mine. Don't keep me waiting—accept my offer.'
Her thoughts spun wildly, filled with ideas of grandeur and power, each one more tempting than the last.
===========
I looked at the address she gave me. It was somewhere inside an underground mall, and to get there, I'd need to speak a password at a bar. "Hmm..." I slipped the paper into my pocket. I'll go there someday this week. For now, I need to think about what she said.
I walked for a long time, constantly scanning my surroundings, before stopping outside an apartment building. It wasn't great, but it wasn't the worst either—not like the last place I stayed. It was just... normal. I entered and headed for the elevator. My body tensed as the doors slid open, taking me to the fourth floor—my floor.
As I reached my room, a strange feeling washed over me—like something was off. My gut tightened, that familiar unease creeping in. I opened the door cautiously and stepped inside. Everything was exactly as it should be—nothing out of place, nothing missing.
I dropped onto the couch, letting out a weary sigh and loosening my guard. Maybe it's just my paranoia after what she said.
I sighed again. They're small fries compared to what I saw with the knowledge I gained at that time, yet I still can't help but feel this tense.
A thought crossed my mind, I guess even when I gained the concept of the Tiger, strength, control, and nobility, even when I don't feel like myself anymore... I'm still me.
I couldn't help but laugh. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'M STILL ME!"
Power is power. They're just tools—not something that can consume me.
The laughter faded, and I calmed down, a real smile spreading across my face for the first time since everything began. For a brief moment, I felt genuinely happy.
===========
AN:
Another one, Phew, I'm having fun for some reason, must've been the wind. Anyways I'm slowing down the pacing cause I feel like I Move too fast last time and this time still but not too much, Also I now have some path that can deviate from the original, The dark side of the world isn't that much talked about and so I'm going that path.
Anyways Just need to get through this month and the finals then I'll finally have some FREEDOM! vacation from the school.
Welp Until then, Have nice Day!
Word count: 2763