Chapter 8: Mass Contamination
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The outline of a young man could be seen from afar. He was clothed in a button-down shirt, crossing the grassy plains in a white blur.

In his path was a network of smooth, wooden pillars. They were firmly rooted into the ground, resembling an array of thin tree trunks.

Woosh!

As he passed by one of the wooden pillars, a deep cut was incised through its center. The top half cleanly slid off, emitting a fresh, herbaceous aroma.

Surprisingly, the young man didn’t even look back or pause. He swiftly changed direction, heading toward another pillar and cleanly slicing it in half. He repeated this process several times, shaping out a zigzag pattern across the field. Every time a pillar was slit in two, the streak of a jade black sword could be seen.

Within a few minutes, he had almost reached the edge of the field. As the young man was dashing toward the final pillar, he made a powerful stride, kicking off four meters into the air. Just before he was about to collide with the pillar, he skillfully swiveled his sword, performing two high-speed slashes at his front.

Slash! Slash!

An X-shaped cut was formed, splitting the pillar into four sections. A loud crash reverberated as the pillar splintered and collapsed on itself. By this time, the young man in white clothes had already landed on the grass, a few meters away from the violent collapse.

As the dust was settling, the young man’s face could easily be discerned. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a mole underneath his left eye. Undeniably, he was Kiba Yuuto, an important member of Rias’ peerage.

Although Kiba was known as a low-class devil, this impressive speed could be better attributed to his Evil Piece.

An Evil Piece was an important source of power for a low-class devil. Any high-class devil, such as Rias, had the ability to bestow Evil Pieces to their underlings. These Evil Pieces took on many forms, namely the Rook, Bishop, Knight, Queen, and Pawn.

As one would expect, each form had its own abilities. Rooks gained supernatural strength, Bishops gained increased magical power, Knights were given speed, and Queens had all the abilities of Rooks, Bishops, and Knights combined. When Kiba had joined Rias’ peerage, he was bestowed with a Knight piece.

Even with the enhancements of a Knight piece, the high-intensity movement in the basking sun had worn Kiba out. After catching his breath, he decided to take a moment to rest in front of the collapsed pillar.

With a smile, Kiba stood up and raised his arm, displaying his jade black sword in the sunlight. Its most discernible feature was the fuller, engraved with vertical silver markings that led down to the hilt. Within the next second, the entire sword shimmered in a bright white light and vanished into thin air.

Kiba reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Glancing at the screen, he parted his medium-length blond hair and laughed.

“Under 6 minutes — a new Record!”

As Kiba started stretching his arms, he noticed something very peculiar. Not too far away from him, mysterious runes in the shape of a circle had appeared on the grass. They were emitting fluctuations of demonic power in a bright red light.

“Hmm? A teleportation formation? It’s probably Akeno.”

At this moment, the formation became increasingly detailed, forming two outer rings with Paisley patterns on the edges. At the center of the formation, a bright purple light emerged out of the ground in the shape of a young lady.

Kiba moved forward and greeted the purple figure, “Hey, Akeno!”

The purple light quickly faded, and a black-haired young lady was left standing on the grass. Kiba politely welcomed her. “I don’t see you at the training grounds that often. It’s nice that you came.”

Akeno stepped out of the formation and smiled. “You can guess why I’m here, right?”

Kiba nodded his head and replied, “Yeah. The investigation mission.”

He continued in a more solemn tone. “Out of the three places we investigated, there was one variable in common. We’ve discovered traces of unknown demonic energy.”

Akeno paused for a second before commenting, “Unknown demonic energy? That could be a sign of a Stray Devil.”

“If it’s confirmed to be a stray, we need to track it down before it slaughters civilians,” said Kiba.

“Strays are indeed notorious for killing innocent civilians.” Akeno clasped her hands together as she continued, “Well, did you find any more leads?”

Kiba awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “We couldn’t find anything else, so we ended up forwarding our report to the archduke.”

Hearing this, Akeno nonchalantly replied, “You don’t have to worry. If a stray dares to act in Kuoh Town, its movements will be highly restrained.”

Akeno turned around, preparing to re-enter the formation. However, just as Kiba was about to say something, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh!”

She turned around again with a smile and said, “I almost forgot to tell you.”

“Huh?”

“I have an important message for you. It’s from Rias.”

. . . . .

The evening sun had just begun to nudge below the horizon, signaling the end of a long summer day. Even so, the neighborhood children were still playing outside, hoping to enjoy themselves before school would soon swing back into session.

One such group of teenagers were playing basketball on a driveway. They all seemed to be having fun, except for an unusual black-haired lad. Unlike the other children, he seemed to be the only one noticeably upset.

“Damn it!” He muttered while gritting his teeth, “That bastard Kurou has been ghosting me for an entire week. He really just ditched us to go out with a girl!”

“Ryo.” The boy standing beside him said, “There’s no way Kurou would leave us like that. Something big probably came up for him.”

“Yeah man.” Another boy chimed in, “Bros before hoes.”

Unbeknownst to this group of young teens, the very person who had killed Kurou was passing by along the sidewalk. With a quick glance at the group, this mysterious young man, Chekhov, could easily infer what they had been talking about.

‘Seems like no one has realized that Kurou is dead. It should anyway be impossible to link his disappearance to me, at least without the use of ulterior magic.’

Chekhov spent a few more seconds eavesdropping then quickly became uninterested as their ruckus started to change topics. He continued strolling along the sidewalk with a bag of groceries in his hand.

After passing by a few houses, Chekhov eventually came to a stop in front of a Craftsman-style home with a gray, concrete driveway. It had a front porch with tapered columns, open eaves, and Bollard lights.

When Chekhov approached the front porch, the door suddenly opened with a creak. An elderly man stood behind the door frame with a smile. He had narrow eyes, powder-white hair, and thick eyebrows.

He spoke with a feeble voice, “Chekhov, you came back quite late today.”

Chekhov put on an apologetic smile as he stepped inside the enclosure. “Sorry. I really wanted to come home earlier, but I noticed that there was something very special at the supermarket today.”

The elderly man was slightly taken aback. When he opened his mouth to respond, Chekhov playfully cut him off. “Father, don’t you go on about asking what it is. This time, I’ll be preparing a secret gourmet dinner over the weekend.”

“Alright Chekhov, if you insist,” said the elderly man with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, Father,” replied Chekhov as he sauntered into the kitchen, “I won’t let you down.”

For the next five minutes, Chekhov took his time properly unloading and arranging his food products in the refrigerator. Once the groceries had been taken care of, he made a beeline toward the second floor.

‘It’s better if no one disturbs me for the next few hours,’ thought Chekhov as he entered his room.

Fortunately, for Chekhov’s convenience, his room was quite spacious. It had a closet with a sliding mirror door, a single size bed, an L-shaped office desk, and a black wingback chair with wooden armrests.

Upon entrance, Chekhov’s first action was to ensure his own privacy. He gently shut the door and tightly fastened the shutters. Then he started scanning the room using his dark energy.

During this time, Chekhov was also re-evaluating his own strengths and weaknesses.

‘This scouting ability is unquestionably one of my few key strengths. It should easily surpass the senses of mid-class beings. Maybe even some high-class beings.’

‘Yet, in a head-on skirmish, my concentrated energy waves are only mediocre. I should still be able to overwhelm ordinary low-class Fallen Angels like Mittelt, but I’ll be at a disadvantage if I am pit against peak low-class beings.’

Once Chekhov confirmed that there was nothing suspicious in the room, he stood up in front of his closet. The vivid reflection of his body appeared on the sliding mirror door. He took off his shirt and closely inspected his chest and arms.

‘No signs of change. This body is still identical to the previous owner’s memories.’

Chekhov paused for a moment while in contemplation.

‘Hmm… at the very least, this body should be considered attractive by human standards. In a High School DxD resemblant world, this trait can definitely be used as one of my resources.’

Even though this body was evidently an advantage, Chekhov never wanted to hesitate when identifying his own flaws. For this, Raynare’s terrifying regeneration and durability had given him the insight he needed.

‘Nevertheless, this physical body is still my biggest weakness. A normal human cannot be compared to even the weakest of devils. Any qualities such as durability, stamina, regeneration, and agility are practically nonexistent.’

Of course, the easiest solution was for Chekhov to become a supernatural being himself. However, he knew that making this decision came with its own consequences. Borrowing the powers of other factions would force himself to choose a side and make enemies. In the case of becoming a Reincarnated Devil, he would also have to act as a servant to a peerage leader.

‘Anyway, there isn’t any rush in committing to a supernatural party. After reaping my benefits from the Fallen Angel raid, I can evaluate my circumstances and make a settlement from there.’

Chekhov put his shirt back on and took a seat in front of his desk. After taking a moment to organize his workspace, he reached into his backpack and removed a small octavo-size book.

The book’s front cover was composed of an onyx-black leather. It had the words “Grimoire of Holy Formations” sketched out in white acrylic. Evidently, this book was given to him by his split soul, Raynare.

Chekhov flipped to a page that he had previously bookmarked, containing intricate sketches of a strange black ellipse. It had several rings and detailed patterns on the edges, resembling a magical formation.

‘Only wielders of Holy Power are able to use this type of magic. But there might be ways for me to get around this restriction.’

After studying the formation for a while, Chekhov carefully reached into his backpack once again. This time he took out a small, brown pouch containing many silver, crystal-shaped pebbles.

He raised one of the silver pebbles to his line of sight and thought, ‘Perhaps I can find a way to harness the power from these Holy Crystals…’

. . . . .

The Sun had finally hidden itself beneath the horizon, officially marking the last August nightfall of the year. By this time, most of the neighborhood had gone silent. Only the natural sounds of crickets, katydids, and rustling leaves could be heard outside.

However, there were still many youngsters that were still awake. Among them were late-night gamers, late-night drinkers, late-night bedroom "wrestlers", and… Chekhov.

‘It was the same at Kuoh Academy. I could neither detect magical formations nor any trace of Demonic Power.’

For the past several hours, Chekhov had attempted a multitude of experiments. At the very least, he wanted to find any useful interaction between dark energy and Holy Power. It seemed Lady Luck was not on his side, as he wasn’t even able to record a single notable observation.

‘At least with my lack of resources, I don’t think its possible for me to imitate Holy Magic.’

Suddenly, Chekhov widened his eyelids and then quickly reached for his phone. He had just remembered that he had lost track of time. Noticing how late it was, Chekhov paused his experiments and decided to temporarily push his lingering thoughts aside.

‘I can’t act as if I have limitless energy. I need to get some rest. Well, this is a human body, after all.’

Chekhov stood up and started packing up his workspace. As he was reaching for a particular grimoire, a peculiar drawing of an elliptic formation entered his sight. This immediately re-invigorated his thoughts.

‘Ueda’s Teleportation Array…’

‘If I want to make this plan work, my best bet is to get assistance from my split soul.’

Chekhov gently shook his head and pushed away his thoughts for the second time. He finished packing up his workspace and lightly reminded himself, ‘I need to be careful with overexerting this body in the future.’

Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

Just as he was about to lay down on his bed, Chekhov was interrupted by a notification on one of his burner phones. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed hold of the phone. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed as read the message that had appeared on the screen.

‘I wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway,’ Chekhov thought as arranged the burner phone on a stack of napkins. With a flick of his wrist, the phone along with a few bits and flakes from the napkins were all devoured.

As quietly as he could, Chekhov made his way to a sliding glass door at the back of the house. With a high-pitched squeak, the door slid open, and he stepped out into the backyard.

The first thing in sight was a rectangular-shaped deck, floored by Eucalyptus wood and surrounded by white Chippendale railings. Chekhov didn’t bother turning on the lights, as he could adroitly sense his surroundings with dark energy. Instead, he walked out into the open and seated himself on a lawn chair.

It wasn’t long until Chekhov heard a soft thud on the ground. The silhouette of a young lady with feathered wings had suddenly appeared in front of him. Chekhov and the mysterious figure stood in their places, both motionless in silence.

Twenty seconds had passed by before the eerie silence was broken by a soft voice.

“The sound barrier is up.”

As the mysterious figure stepped forward, a pair of violet eyes and silky black hair were revealed. Without a doubt, this was Raynare. Chekhov tilted his head toward her and asked, “How was the mission in Kuisui Town?”

She replied with a smile, “I’ve caught two fish. Both are adults and one possesses a Sacred Gear.”

Hearing about the Sacred Gear wielder, Chekhov was slightly surprised. He thought for a moment before moving on to his next question. “You should have fully recovered by now, right?”

“Yes, everything has healed, barring my left eye,” Raynare replied.

“Then, we can start fishing for more fresh meat.” Chekhov said, “By now, our target should have taken refuge in a nearby warehouse. We shouldn’t let this ‘cannon fodder’ go to waste.”

Raynare responded with a simple nod. “Indeed.”

“On a side note,” Chekhov rummaged through his backpack for a second. He took out a small leather book and continued, “Have you ever heard of Ueda’s Teleportation Array?”

This question caught Raynare off-guard. She wore a slight frown as she was trying to recollect her memories. Right before Chekhov was about to pass her the book, her eyes suddenly widened. She quickly exclaimed, “Actually, I do have a few experiences detailing on it.”

“It’s one of the weakest formations that can be cast by Holy Power.” Raynare explained, “Although it requires very little power to sustain itself, it has too many drawbacks. It can only transfer mass the size of a rice grain at a time, and its range is very limited when compared to other formations. Because of this, it doesn’t have any practical use other than being taught in academies as an exercise.”

She wrinkled her eyebrows as she continued, “If you want a teleportation formation, I can set you up something much more useful.”

“I’m aware.” Chekhov gave her a mysterious smile, “However, Ueda’s Teleportation Array is exactly what I need.”

Raynare was puzzled. She faintly cocked her head and asked, “Then, what are we using it for? Its only unique advantages are in its power efficiency.”

A glint appeared in Raynare’s eyes as she came to a realization. “Unless…”

“That’s right. My intention is to start a mass contamination.”

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