Chapter 1
Present-day Japan, 2026.
On a seemingly normal day, a woman (MARTHA) and her son (THOMAS) are walking down the road to the convenience store, everything is perfect... too perfect. The two are two blocks away from the store when suddenly, out of nowhere, a car comes flying through the air and crashes into the building in front of them. Looking in the direction from which the car came, the two see a crowd running away from something covered in smoke. The two would then run into a hiding place inside one of the small buildings. After a short period of time, the boy looks up from where he’s hiding, and out the window, he sees something. Something terrifying. A tall, unnaturally thin humanoid with skin smooth like glass, a reflective surface. It’s unmistakable; it is a devil.
THOMAS
(whispers)
“Mom... there’s a devil out there...”
MARTHA
(terrified, skeptical)
“Are you sure? At this time of day?”
Martha slowly gets up to look outside the window to see bodies everywhere, smoke everywhere, and flames getting sparked. The devil is there. Suddenly, Martha’s phone begins to ring; it’s her husband. Hearing this, the devil’s head snaps towards the building, revealing its eyes that appear behind its reflective surface. Martha silences her phone instantly and goes back into hiding. The devil approaches from behind as we see its slender arms begin to creep through the door. Tears come down Martha’s face, and Thomas begins to whimper.
DEVIL
(cocky, arrogant)
“Found... You...”
The two embrace, with the thought of death in their mind. The devil prepares to kill them with its long arm and slashes at them
BOOM
The two are unscathed. They look up through tear-streaked eyes to see REN—mid-20s, lean and scarred, dark hair matted with sweat—bracing both forearms against the devil’s razor-thin hand inches from their faces. His muscles strain, and he holds back a force that cracks the concrete beneath him. He glances behind, locking eyes with Martha and Thomas, his gaze steady, almost bored.
REN
(casual, breathing heavy)
“Sorry, I’m late. Don’t really get notified for this type of stuff.”
With a guttural roar, Ren shoves forward. The Glare Devil staggers back three full steps, its glassy arm screeching against the twin blades in Ren’s grip—two personalized katanas, one with a jet-black hilt wrapped in faded prayer beads, the other with a crimson-stained guard etched in faint, glowing runes. He spins them once, fluid as water, then drops into a low stance—one blade angled high for parry, the other low for the kill.
THOMAS
(whispered awe)
“Mom! Look—a devil hunter!”
A fragile smile cracks Martha’s terror. She scoops Thomas and bolts for the alley shadows, footsteps fading as—
The GLARE DEVIL recovers, cocking its featureless head. Its reflective surface ripples like disturbed mercury, scanning Ren top to bottom. Streetlights and firelight bounce off it, painting the walls in blinding shards.
REN
(smirking, circling)
“Looking a little polished over there. What devil are you?”
GLARE DEVIL
(voice like shattering glass)
“I am the Glare Devil... a Manifest.”
REN
(annoyance, then grin)
“Seriously? Manifest? Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
The devil lunges—arms elongating into glassy whips that shatter air itself. Each swing carves furrows in asphalt, sends street signs spinning like shrapnel. Ren dances through it: Feather Step engaged, body lightened to near-weightless. He sways under a horizontal cleave, parries a downward smash with crossed blades—CLANG—sparks flying like struck flint. The katanas sing, biting shallow grooves in the devil’s glassy hide that instantly reform.
REN
(taunting, not even breathing hard)
“Come on. I know you can do better than that.”
The Glare Devil pauses. Then its entire body flares—surface turning a perfect mirror. Sunlight, fire, every light source weaponizes into a piercing strobe that whites out Ren’s vision. He flinches, just a fraction—
WHAM.
A piston-fast glassy fist slams his gut. Ren rockets backward, smashing through a storefront display, glass and metal exploding around him. He skids across the tile, the coat rack collapsing under his weight. The devil’s mocking laugh echoes.
But Ren rises—clothes shredded, no blood. He spits, wipes his mouth, grins wider.
GLARE DEVIL
(advancing, confused)
“What... how? What ability do you possess?”
REN
(casual shrug)
“Nothing much. Just been able to change my body’s density.”
His frame shimmers faintly. Feather Step maxed—he blurs forward in a speed blitz, air cracking like a whip. Left katana arcs high—slash—shears clean through the devil’s throat in a spray of liquid mirror. Right blade whips low—slash—severs the left arm at the shoulder. The Glare Devil staggers, gurgling static, clutching the stump as reflective blood pools like mercury.
Ren stalks forward, blades dripping, ready for the kill—
His vision swims. Knees buckle. He drops one hand to the ground, coughing, wet blood splatters his palm, bright and frothy. He stares at it, eyes wide.
REN
(hoarse, to himself)
“Screw this...”
The Glare Devil seizes the opening. Its remaining arm coils like a spring—then unleashes. The blow catches Ren square in the stomach. No time to densify. He folds around the impact, airborne again—CRASH through a brick wall, then a second, rubble exploding outward. He hits pavement rolling, katanas skittering across concrete.
The devil closes. Glassy fingers clamp Ren’s ankle like a vice, hoist him upside-down. Its other hand seizes his face—digging into his eye socket, fingers crushing his jaw. It drags him facedown, 20 feet of shredded asphalt grinding skin from bone. Ren’s body bounces, limp.
SLAM. Into a final wall. Ren slides down, a bloody smear marking his path. Both katanas lie just out of reach. He grips them like crutches, drags himself halfway up—then coughs again, blood sheeting his chin. Legs give out. He slumps, chest heaving.
The Glare Devil looms over him, arm regenerating, reflective eyes gleaming with victory. It raises the killing blow—
BOOM
Out of nowhere, the devil’s head explodes, spraying everywhere. The lifeless body of the devil falls onto the ground. Ren looks past it, seeing the Oathborn, official hunters by law who trade their lives for a single vow: to stand between humanity and the devils, no matter how many times the world forgets their names. They’ve brought 6 people, all of whom look overwhelmingly strong. However, one sticks out; Ren feels a sense of familiarity when seeing his silhouette from afar, but he can’t tell who it is; his vision is blurry and is fading in and out. The one whom Ren has his eyes on approaches him. This is the legendary chairman ZENO MORROW, and he reaches his hand out to Ren.
Zeno says, “Come, come to us.”
Ren attempts to grab his hand, but falls unconscious.
