Chapitre 2: The Boys
————————————————————————
March ##, 1987
————————————————————————
Somewhere in the grey-skied countryside, a boy stood in the rain before a gravestone; his father. Seemingly, his old man committed suicide to evade the vast debt he owed to the Yakuza, a burden now placed onto the shoulders of his only son.
"Bastard hung himself without making this month's payment…." The debt collector who sat in the car next to him grew impatient only five minutes after he dropped the boy off; the silence was starting to get bothersome. "Listen, kid…" He sounded, watching the boy from the corner of his eye, feeling neither sympathy nor emotion as he gazed at the orphan in mourning. "I don't care whether you beg for it or whore yourself out: have seven hundred thousand ready by tomorrow, or I'll cut your corpse into pieces and sell you."
With that, the boy watched as the debt collector left in his car; now, he was left utterly alone in the world. Then, suddenly, the "BRIMM" of a chainsaw could be heard from behind a nearby tree; the boy looked at the source and was a bit surprised once he saw an orange, dog-cat-looking creature angrily staring at him with a small and revving chainsaw blade coming out of its head; the animal looked like it was going to attack him.
"A ch-chainsaw…?" The boy exclaimed, falling onto his rear when he tried stepping back; three loud "BRM"s were heard as the creature slowly advanced towards him. "It's a Devil…"
He thought of running away for a second as the animal didn't appear very fast for a Devil. But then, he had an epiphany: What exactly do I have to live for? The boy became wide-eyed as he realized everything he had dealt with probably led up to this moment; he had no family, was pretty much homeless, and had an enormous debt to pay back to the Yakuza by tomorrow. So there's no point in running away anymore, he thought; this may as well be a mercy killing.
He closed his eyes, tears masked by the rain. "If you're gonna kill me, get it over with already!" He cried. "I'm gonna die anyway!"
However, nothing happened. Several seconds passed by, and nothing happened. The boy thought something was off once the chainsaw from the creature started to sputter and stop altogether; it was as if it had run out of gas. So he opened his eyes and saw that the Devil was now lying on its side; two holes were in its side, and some blood poured out from the wound with a trail showing the animal was injured before encountering the child.
"You're hurt…." He commented, staring at the Devil whose eyes were half-closed; based on its demeanor, the boy believed it was probably dying. "Are you gonna die too…?"
The breaths it took became weaker, more labored for every attempt it made. The boy saw this, too, and was, for a brief moment, flashed with an image of his father hanging from a rope in a dimly lit room. The boy's mind became clear on what he wanted to do, and he immediately brought up his left arm to the face of the Devil that lay suffering on the ground.
"Bite me!" He demanded, provoking the creature to turn its body to glimpse the child with an untrusting look. "I heard that if a Devil drinks blood, its wounds heal! If you don't wanna die, then bite me!"
The logic here was sound, but it still didn't trust the human, even though he didn't seem like a threat. Of course, there was the fact it could just kill him afterward, as there wasn't any agreement made for the boy's preservation. Thus, seeing no way to heal itself other than the offering in front of it, the Devil slowly crept up to the boy's arm and bit down hard; it made a small sounding "CHOMP," which caused some blood to pour out of his arm just as it did with its stomach; the healing process can be felt bearing fruit; its stomach gaps were mending nicely.
The kid ached a little from the voluntary giving of his blood to the demon, but it didn't mind him in the slightest; he had a deal to make quickly when it was preoccupied with feeding itself. "My blood doesn't come free…." Those words compelled the Devil to squint at the boy in irritation; it was annoying to hear someone talking during his meal. "This is a contract…." He stated, looking at the creature straight in its eyes.
"I don't wanna die either…." Denji said. "My name's Denji—"
"Hey, what's up?"
Suddenly, a greeting came out of nowhere; and from right behind him, no less. "Huh?"
"I asked what's up."
As Denji turned his head, he saw who was talking for himself; it was a kid like him, apart from appearing a wee bit taller and a tad bit older than him; his hair was dark brown, and so were his eyes; he wore a black t-shirt—with a single breast pocket—and a pair of blue jeans but had no shoes; he also held something shiny in his hand, an AXE spray can.
"IS THAT HIM? LET ME SEE! LET ME SEE!" Another voice made itself known; the new kid positioned his AXE before Denji's face.
"This guy?"
"NO! NOT HIM! THE ONE BEHIND! MY FRIEND, IS THAT YOU?! ARE YOU THERE?!"
"Wak?" The dog-cat Devil heard the voice and moved in front of Denji. "WAK WAK?!"
"IT IS YOOOUU!" The spray can laughed happily. "IT IS GOOD TO MEET AGAIN, MY BUDDY!"
"This is the friend you talked about?" The unknown boy asked his AXE spray, pointing at the strange orange creature that was now barking joyfully at his Devil. "I thought you told me he was a—"
"I KNOW; IT APPEARS SOMETHING CAUSED HIM TO LOSE HIS TRUE FORM…." It answered bitterly. "THOSE BASTARDS MUST'VE GONE AFTER HIM ONCE THEY DEFEATED ME! WHAT A BUNCH OF COWARDS!"
"PUT ME ON THE GROUND! I NEED TO CHECK HIM!"
"Sure." He complied and placed the AXE Devil firmly into the ground.
"Who are these guys?" Denji had no idea what was going on: first, he met a Devil, and second, he met yet another—one was evidently a spray can—and third, some kid came outta nowhere with a Devil in hand. "Uhm, what's happening…?" He asked confusedly, staring at the two Devils in front of him.
"Beats me." The newcomer confessed, resting his arm on Denji's shoulder. "The name's Kancho, by the way."
"I'm Denji…." He claimed, turning to look at the boy that somehow got behind him once again."Uh, it's a pleasure to meet you?"
"Yeah, same here—"
"QUIET DOWN, IDIOTS! I AM TRYING TO EXAMINE SOMETHING OVER HERE!!" The AXE spray shouted while being licked relentlessly by his cat-dog Devil buddy. "STOP THAT, AND LET ME SEE YOUR WOUNDS!"
"Oh, and that's Ono; he's the AXE Devil," Kancho said, causing Denji to look a little confused as he had never heard of such a ridiculous kind of Devil before. "Bizarre, am I right? I've heard even weirder Devils that exist, so why not an—"
"AXE Devil…?" Denji said again. But, as most people believe, Devils can only come into existence from fear. Still, it usually requires a considerable number of people—probably ten thousand or so—but the chances of being afraid of an AXE spray were…pretty minuscule, to say the least. "Wouldn't he be super weak or something…?"
"WEAK?! YOU CALL ME WEAK, HUMAN?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF?!" Ono instantly turned his head around to face its nozzle at Denji, who immediately became startled. "HUH?! YOU WANNA GO, HUH?!"
"My bad then…."
Ono then let out a large, disappointed sigh. "IF ONLY YOU HAD WAITED A LITTLE BIT LONGER…BUT I SUPPOSE SOME CIRCUMSTANCES LIKE THESE CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES." Ono then turned to Denji. "WELL— GO ON, THEN; SEAL THE DEAL AND GIVE HIM A NAME!"
"He wants a name…?" He asked, doubting if he was being serious. "You for real?"
"Woof!" The other Devil bounced slightly in confirmation; it was his first time getting a real name; one wouldn't be wrong to say he wasn't a little excited. "Wok Wok!"
"Uhm…maybe we could think of one later? I haven't a clue on what to name you yet…."
"Wak Wak?"
"WHATEVER, WE'LL DEAL WITH IT AT A LATER DATE. FOR NOW: PICK ME BACK UP, KANCHO-BOY, BECAUSE WE GOT LOTS OF WORK TO DO!!"
Kancho picked up his Ono and placed him in his single breast pocket. "What work are you talking about?"
"Wak Wak."
"WHEN WE WERE TALKING, MY FRIEND TOLD ME THAT BOY ACQUIRED A BIT OF DEBT."
"Woof!"
"MHM…" Ono sprayed some yellowish-red gas from his nozzle as if he nodded in agreement. "SO LET'S GO FIX THAT FIRST!"
"Wait…you two are going to help me?" Denji asked. "But why?"
"IT'S A PRETTY BIG DEBT, IS IT? SO OUR HELP IS GONNA MAKE IT A…CAKEWALK, AS YOU HUMANS CALL IT!"
"Right…" Kancho said, a little unsure if this was a good idea as any debt wasn't exactly the most optimal thing to deal with at the moment, atop homelessness and starvation. "How exactly are we gonna pay it back, though? We're kids…nobody gonna hire kids, a pair of kids with Devils, mind you."
"WORRY NOT, FOR I HAVE BUT A SIMPLE SOLUTION…"
———————————————
Three Hours Later
———————————————
They dropped the Marshmello Devil onto the ground; its body was precisely cut in half and covered in burns; most of its guts had spilled out once it hit the ground. Standing in front of Denji and Kancho, in a narrow and dead-end alleyway, were three Yakuza, the older one being the debt collector from before; he may have seemed indifferent but was actually pretty impressed by the display.
The two held their Devils close; one whose chainsaw blade was covered in blood while the other was still spraying some leftover yellowish-red gas from its nozzle. Denji and Kancho were both covered in sweat and some Devil blood.
"Will you hire us as Devil Hunters, sir?" Denji asked, looking up from his work.
"My ears burn…." Kancho complained, putting his left hand up to his ear.
"..." The old man said nothing but smiled in response; this will be a goldmine, he thought greedily, and wouldn't be sound enough to waste such valuable assets. "You work starting tomorrow, capiché?"
"Yes, sir…"
"Uh-huh."
The three mobsters walked off, leaving the boys and their Devils alone. The two immediately collapsed as the exhaustion of today's ordeal finally set in. "What the fuck…did I get myself into?" Kancho questioned himself; life wasn't gonna be so boring now, he thought worriedly.
"YOU BOYS DID GOOD!" Ono congratulated. "FOR A COUPLE OF KIDS, I MEAN—"
"I think…." Denji interrupted. "I think I thought of a name for him…."
"HOH?!" Ono remarked. "WHAT IS THE NAME THEN?"
"Pochita…"
"Wok! Wok!" Pochita seemed to like the name.
"That sounds about right…it's like putting that one brand, and the fact he kinda looks like a dog, into a single word…or name," Kancho noted, referencing the Makita brand of chainsaws and Pochita's dog-like appearance. "Good choice, man!"
————————————————————————
Author's Notes
————————————————————————
Fuck my schedule, bros; I finally got something in today. It was hard, but I pulled through! I'm probably going to make some editing but only minor adjustments; I just want to push this stuff out, y'know? SEE YOU NEXT EPISODES!!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone