We pull into the Akachi family garage.

“Mr. Akamuro, your vehicle is right this way.”

I thank the maid and haul myself into the light armored vehicle—the same rig I ripped off from Retsu Shido. Big, tough… a solid piece of machinery.

The Akachi Clan kept it in storage for me, just like that.

Gas tank’s full, too. A nice touch.

Wonder if this made the news yet.

I flip on the TV. A news program runs a special on a shocking incident.

The headline reads: Del Exorcism Church Unit Annihilates Heretic Cult in a Single Night.

Beside me, Lady Ayano hammers at her typewriter.

[Are you certain it was wise to give away the credit for that night?]

The keys clack under her sullen assault.

“This is for the best. A perfect outcome for everyone involved.”

The Seekers of the Deep have caught wind of it by now. Their allies, the Hidden Flame, are gone. Wiped out.

They have to be on high alert, asking themselves, Who did this? Who the hell found us?

I can’t have them thinking it was me.

The reason is simple: I don’t want them on guard.

I learned something from those fights. I’m a stronger Exorcist than I gave myself credit for.

But I’m not letting it go to my head. I know exactly why I won.

I was underestimated. Every last one of them looked at me and saw small fry.

Contempt creates openings. My raw power, my range of techniques, my physical durability? They’re all pathetic compared to what Mages can do.

If my enemies start taking me seriously, they change their tactics. Worst-case scenario, they pull an Ophelia—refuse to engage and just blow up my hotel.

If that happens, I’m dead. Story over.

I’m not getting cocky. I accept the truth. I won because my opponents wrote me off. 

My rewards were paid in luck and their disdain. I won’t look away from that fact.

That’s why I’m not taking the credit.

Ophelia’s foresight made this possible. While I was out, she kept my involvement under wraps.

After Axey told her about the Seekers of the Deep, she realized this fight was far from over. She leaned on the Akai City Police and the Red Guild to keep their mouths shut about the night the Hidden Flame fell.

Thanks to her, the rumors that were starting to spread—some guy named Ikaku Akamuro went on a rampage—never hit the media.

Because of her groundwork, I could wake up and say, “Since you’re already keeping it quiet, this works out perfectly. The credit goes to you, my lady. And by extension, to the Church.”

Ophelia got suspicious. “Are you trying to put me in your debt?”

But when I explained that the Church would be desperate for a chance to announce they’d crushed an enemy, she reluctantly came around.

Twisting the truth didn’t sit well with her, but she saw the logic.

The result? My name stays off their radar. Ophelia gets the credit as the de facto leader of the Church’s Exorcist team.

And the Del Exorcism Church, still reeling from the annihilation of its vassal, the Akai Clan, gets to save face by projecting an image of swift retribution.

A perfect outcome for everyone involved.

The art of victory. This, too, is a martial art.

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