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Chapter 329: Chapter 325 ~ Black Dog

Kuroka didn't answer right away.

Her golden eyes reflected the pale moonlight, but her mind was far away — in a different time, a different place.

"…I saw her," she finally said, her voice soft — almost trembling. "My little sister… Shirone."

Le Fay's eyes widened slightly. "You did?"

Kuroka nodded slowly, her fingers curling around the branch beneath her. Her usual teasing smirk was nowhere to be seen. "She's grown. Beautiful, strong… and finally living among people who love her."

Le Fay smiled faintly. "That's good, isn't it?"

"...It should be," Kuroka muttered, ears twitching down. "But when I saw her with him—" she stopped herself, the image of Yuuji and Koneko flashing in her mind, "—I realized she's not that little kitten I left behind anymore. She's found someone who makes her feel safe. Someone who makes her show her true self again."

Le Fay tilted her head. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Kuroka's tail wrapped around her leg, tightening slightly. "It is. But… it also means she might be ready to ask questions. Questions I never had the courage to answer."

Her tone dropped to a whisper.

"Like why I killed our master."

Le Fay's breath hitched, though she didn't interrupt.

"I didn't do it for myself," Kuroka said, her gaze distant and bitter. "I did it because that monster wanted to use Shirone as an experiment. To turn her into a tool. I couldn't let that happen. I'd rather become a murderer… a stray… than let him touch her."

Her claws flexed unconsciously, scraping the wood beneath her. "But she never knew. All she saw was me drenched in blood, standing over his corpse. She thought I lost control. That I killed for pleasure."

Le Fay's voice softened. "So you left to protect her from the truth."

Kuroka nodded weakly. "If she knew the real reason, she would've blamed herself. And I couldn't bear that."

The two sat in silence for a moment. The wind rustled through the leaves, carrying the faint scent of night jasmine.

Le Fay spoke again, her tone gentle but firm. "And now?"

Kuroka's eyes lifted back to the moon. "Now… someone told me she's waiting for me. That maybe… it's time to stop running."

She smiled faintly — sad, uncertain, but hopeful. "That bastard Yuuji… he really knows how to get under people's skin, nya."

Le Fay chuckled softly. 

"He sounds like someone who says what others need to hear, not what they want."

"Maybe that's why my little sister's starting to open up again."

Kuroka sighed. Then, her smile softened. 

"Maybe… it's finally time I face her."

"When the time comes, I'll help however I can."

Kuroka looked at her in surprise, then smirked faintly — her usual mischievous glint flickering back. 

"Ara, Le Fay-chan~ You'd do that for me? Nya~ You're so sweet~"

Le Fay smiled but shook her head. 

"Don't hide behind that tone, Kuroka. It doesn't suit this moment."

Kuroka blinked — then laughed softly. 

"Heh… maybe you're right."

Her tail swayed lazily as she gazed up at the moon one last time.

"Shirone… Wait for me, okay? Onee-chan will come find you soon…"

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Yuuji sat quietly on a bench in the park where he had first met Azazel and Vali. 

Before him, a white stone fountain arched jets of water gracefully into the air, droplets scattering like liquid crystals before falling back into the pool below. The gentle rhythm of splashing water filled the air, blending with the distant hum of rustling leaves and the faint laughter of children playing somewhere down the path.

Perched comfortably on his left shoulder, Alice rested in her slime form, her body pressed softly against his neck. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy above, glinting off her pure-white surface and tinting it faintly with warm orange hues.

On his lap, Aria curled up against his left hand, her small, obsidian body shimmering like a fragment of the starry night sky beneath the sun's light. She purred softly—if a slime could purr—as Yuuji gently stroked her surface, each motion radiating warmth and affection.

It was a moment of calm, but Yuuji's mind was elsewhere.

Earlier that day, he had received a message from Azazel, passed along through Issei during one of his contract errands. 

The Governor-General had requested to meet him—both for a private conversation and to introduce the people he had selected as his bodyguards for the upcoming second summit.

The summit's venue had already been decided: the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the legendary floating fortress commanded by Semiramis. Naturally, nothing—neither beast, spirit, nor even a speck of dust—could enter its airspace without Yuuji's or Semiramis's express permission. Still, considering what had transpired during the first summit, Azazel's caution was understandable.

Originally, the Governor-General had wanted to bring an entire contingent of Fallen Angel elites, perhaps even a few of his generals. But Yuuji had rejected that idea outright. The Hanging Gardens were not a battlefield, and he had no intention of allowing an army to trample through the domain that Semiramis and he personally maintained. Semiramis herself had shared the sentiment.

Sirzechs and Michael, too, had attempted similar requests—hoping to bring their respective legions as a precaution. But Yuuji denied them as well. In the end, both had agreed to limit their entourage to a trusted few. Sirzechs would arrive with his wife, the strongest Queen, Grayfia Lucifuge, while Michael would bring along Vasco Strada—the Church's mightiest warrior.

Azazel, as always, had to be different.

He wanted to personally introduce his chosen protectors to Yuuji ahead of time—to give him a sense of their abilities, their personalities, and perhaps even to ease whatever tension might arise when they all eventually stood in the same room.

The meeting place was set for this very park—an hour after Yuuji's classes ended. Azazel would arrive here, and from there, they would travel together to where his subordinates waited.

So now, Yuuji waited.

Alice and Aria had emerged from his [King's Treasury] to accompany him, eager to bask in the warm afternoon air. Even Ophis had wanted to join them—to sit beside him in silence and simply enjoy his presence—but Yuuji had persuaded her otherwise. He had promised her that they would spend time together later, and after a brief pout and the offering of a few bags of cookies, she reluctantly agreed to stay behind.

Time drifted softly by. Then, without warning, the air before the fountain shimmered, and a magic circle of golden light unfolded upon the ground.

From its center stepped a man—middle-aged, with sharp golden bangs cutting through his otherwise black hair and a short goatee framing a knowing smirk. He wore a sleek dark suit that somehow balanced charm and mischief in equal measure.

"Hey, sorry for the wait," Azazel said with an easy grin. "Had to sneak out from Shemhazai's never-ending pile of paperwork. But hey—here I am!"

Yuuji regarded him with an expression of mild annoyance, his hand continuing to idly stroke Aria's smooth form.

"You told me to come… and you're late," he said evenly. "I could've spent this time doing something far more productive."

Azazel chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "My bad, my bad. Didn't mean to steal time from you and your harem. It's just a few minutes though, right? Anyway, they're waiting already, so let's not waste any more time."

Yuuji sighed softly, the sound carrying the weight of resigned tolerance.

He rose from the bench, the two slimes immediately shifting back into their necklace forms, wrapping snugly around his neck like living jewels. Without another word, he stepped forward until he stood beside Azazel.

"Let's go."

Azazel smirked and snapped his fingers, activating a new teleportation circle beneath them. Golden light enveloped the park, and in the next instant, both men vanished—leaving only the sound of the fountain's gentle splash echoing through the now-empty clearing.

They appeared before a dimly lit entrance of a two-story black building. Its facade was sleek but weathered, the dark wood reflecting faintly under the amber hue of a nearby streetlight. The door—deep brown mahogany with a pane-divided window—glowed warmly from within, soft lantern light spilling through the glass.

Above the frame hung a rustic wooden sign, its surface worn smooth by time. Elegant cursive letters were engraved upon it:

"Black Dog Bar."

Azazel grasped the handle and pushed the door open. A crisp bell chimed overhead, announcing their arrival as they stepped into the establishment.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted completely. A warm, earthy scent of oak and faint tobacco filled the air. Polished wooden tables and sturdy chairs were neatly arranged across the floor. 

A chandelier of wrought iron hung proudly in the center, while lantern-style lamps—modern lights cleverly shaped to match their vintage counterparts—cast pools of golden light across the room.

At the far end, Yuuji glimpsed an open kitchen where chefs worked in quiet harmony, and beyond that, the faint orange flicker of a brick pizza oven.

A young waiter, dressed smartly in uniform, stood behind the cashier's counter near the entrance. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Azazel, before quickly bowing.

"Welcome back, owner. I didn't expect you to come today."

Azazel waved casually, a half-smirk playing on his lips.

"Just bringing a friend up to the bar. Tobio's upstairs, right?"

"Yes, sir. He arrived about half an hour ago and is preparing for the evening shift."

"Good. Then we'll head up. Get us a Neapolitan and a pepperoni while you're at it."

"Of course, owner."

With that, the two made their way past the counter, heading toward the staircase at the far end of the room. The staff bowed politely as Azazel passed, while he greeted them with casual waves and nods.

Yuuji, following a step behind, returned the gesture with a small smile. However, the moment their eyes met him—those crystalline eyes and that calm, almost ethereal aura—every one of them froze, stunned into silence. Even the few patrons enjoying a late lunch or early dinner turned to stare, captivated by his presence.

He realized then that he had forgotten to put on his necklace of disguise.

They ascended to the second floor, entering a dimly lit bar area that felt intimate and atmospheric. A chandelier hung low from the ceiling, scattering faint, ephemeral light across the polished mahogany floor. The walls were lined with lanterns, their soft orange glow creating long, lazy shadows that danced gently with each flicker.

Several small, round tables filled the room, each accompanied by no more than four chairs. 

At the far end stood the bar itself—a long counter of polished mahogany, behind which a magnificent glass shelf stretched up the wall, lined with an impressive collection of spirits. Bottles of rum, gin, whiskey, and rare liqueurs shimmered with warm golden hues under the soft backlight.

The atmosphere was cozy, quietly luxurious. Yuuji found himself quietly admiring it. If he were to ever build a bar in his own home, this would be his model. Though, realistically, he doubted it would see much use—none of his friends or family were particularly fond of alcohol.

Even Satoru, who'd grown used to drinking out of social obligation, had little genuine interest in it.

Behind the counter stood a young man dressed in a crisp white shirt and a black vest, his sleeves neatly rolled up. He was tall, with sharp features and jet-black hair, and was methodically polishing a wine glass with a cloth when he looked up.

"Hey, Tobio!"

Azazel's call drew the young man's attention. A flicker of mild irritation crossed his face—only to vanish the moment his gaze shifted to Yuuji. His eyes widened.

"Azazel… This is…?"

Azazel grinned and dropped into a seat at the bar, gesturing casually toward Yuuji.

"This is Mordred—though his real name's Tsubakihara Yuuji. He's the one I told you about."

For a moment, Tobio just stared, stunned. Then his composure slipped entirely.

"What? This is him?"

Yuuji turned his gaze toward Azazel, a faint frown tugging at his lips. He wasn't entirely sure what kind of stories Azazel had been spreading behind his back—but he could guess.

Still, he extended his hand politely.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is Tsubakihara Yuuji."

Tobio blinked, then quickly placed the glass and cloth aside before shaking his hand firmly. The shock faded from his expression, replaced by an easy, confident smile.

"Likewise. My name is Ikuse Tobio. The pleasure's mine."

Their handshake was brief but firm. When they parted, Tobio studied Yuuji for a moment longer before letting out a quiet chuckle.

"Still… I can't believe you're the one Azazel talked. You look so young."

Yuuji smiled faintly.

"I'm not sure what he told you," he said, glancing at Azazel, "but I'm just a second-year high school student with a bit of talent in magic."

"Hah!"

Azazel's laugh filled the room, earning an unimpressed look from Yuuji and a confused one from Tobio.

"If he's just 'a bit talented,' then I'm a headless crow," Azazel said with a grin. 

"Anyway, pour me a whiskey—the good one. On the rocks."

Tobio sighed and shook his head. "Sure thing."

As Tobio prepared his drink, Yuuji struck up a conversation with him. They talked easily—about mundane things at first, then more personal matters. Before long, Yuuji found that Tobio was both intelligent and surprisingly grounded, his calm demeanor making him easy to talk to.

It was during this exchange that Yuuji learned something unexpected.

Tobio Ikuse, as it turned out, was Akeno's second cousin—and Shuri's first cousin once removed.

He was a Himejima by blood.

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