[2] : A Catgirl at Home

The Spiritual pressure outburst lasted only an instant—like a crack of lightning briefly tearing through the sky.

When the towering golden Buddha-lotus dispersed, the harbor was still the same dark steel jungle. It was simply missing a few fiends—and the henchmen who served them.

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"Phew—job's done."

Bokue Keikain landed gracefully, did a quick stretch, and strolled over to the black sedan with its completely caved-in roof. From the hood, he retrieved two still-intact briefcases.

He remembered one contained money. As for the other, he hadn't opened it yet, but judging from the conversation between that werewolf and those bodyguards, it was their "merchandise."

He was curious, but first he needed to inform Rias—

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Chipi Chipi Chapa Chapa~

That catchy ringtone prompted Bokue—who had just picked up his phone—to raise an eyebrow again.

This time, the caller ID showed [Rias].

How convenient.

He tapped to answer.

"Hey, Rias. I was just about to call you…"

Before he could finish, a slightly anxious girl's voice came through the line:

"Bokue, are you okay? Akeno and I just sensed a huge surge of Demonic Power from your direction—did you run into the target?"

"Mhm, something like that. Don't worry, it's already sorted."

Leading with reassurance, Bokue Keikain glanced at the two briefcases by his feet.

"I was planning to bring him back alive, but some people just won't cooperate—so I had to get a bit rough. Anyway, it's all taken care of, and I picked up their trade goods, too."

"Trade goods? What were they?"

"No idea. I haven't checked yet, but…"

Wedging the phone between his cheek and shoulder, Bokue lifted the briefcase that supposedly held the traded item, tapping the shell lightly with his knuckle.

"It's giving off a bit of Spiritual power—faint, but definitely there. It doesn't feel natural, like something's sealed inside. Should I open it?"

"Sealed, huh…?"

Rias seemed to hesitate momentarily, then made a quick decision.

"Better not. Let's keep it as-is for now and talk at school tomorrow. We don't know what they were trading—if it's some dangerous creature from the Underworld and we break the seal by accident, that'd be a mess."

"Works for me. I'll bring it to the club tomorrow afternoon so we can open it together and see what's inside."

He was about to end the call but paused for a moment and added,

"Oh—one more thing, about the money…"

"Yeah, yeah—I'll transfer the commission for this job to your account in a minute," Rias interrupted breezily, as though she'd already anticipated his request.

Then curiosity crept into her voice. "But we've worked together a lot—why the rush this time? You short on cash?"

"Well…"

He rubbed his forehead as he spoke.

"I was doing fine until my freeloading cat trashed the TV in my bedroom a few days ago—my game console was hooked up to it, so…"

"Ah… sorry to hear that. Anyway, I'll wire you the payment in a moment."

"OK then, see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is."

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Ten minutes later, in an apartment building in Chuo Ward, Tokyo—

Ding-dong—

With the elevator's pleasant chime, the doors slid open onto the hallway. Bokue stepped out, a briefcase in each hand.

Chuo Ward is some of the priciest real estate in Tokyo: even a cramped studio of four or five hundred square feet can fetch a sky-high price, and typically an entire floor might house four, five, or even more units sharing a single elevator.

But the building where Bokue Keikain lived had only two doors per floor—two units per elevator bank.

That meant more space, more quiet… and a price tag that soared proportionally. It was similar to the high-end condo you might see some refined anime heroine living in—essentially a luxury residence.

Turning right from the elevator, he arrived at his door. Because both hands were full, he had to set the briefcases down before fishing out his keys.

Just as Bokue reached into his pocket, however, the security door—which had been firmly closed just a second ago—swung open from inside.

A shapely figure pounced out like a sprinter off the blocks, colliding with him right there in the hallway.

"Welcome home～!"

"Thanks for opening the door, Kuroka. But can we at least go inside first? If the neighbors see us like this, it'll be awkward…"

Bokue seemed to have expected this greeting. He gently patted the back of the kimono-clad girl who was nuzzling him and sniffing him head to toe.

Well, "Girl" might be misleading—she did look like a youthful eighteen-year-old, but her front-mounted weaponry was on a whole different level than your average teen.

Add the furry cat ears perched atop her head—and the tail flicking under her kimono—and you couldn't help thinking of a classic Nekomata.

"Neighbors? Didn't know we even had any. I've never seen them."

Like a wife excitedly welcoming her husband home late at night, Kuroka took a long whiff to confirm he didn't smell of any other woman. Satisfied, she ran her tongue over her lips, dropped back onto her bare feet, and released him.

"Anyway, now that you're back, do you want dinner, or a shower, or…?"

"Already ate. I'm taking a shower."

Without delay, Bokue grabbed the briefcases, stepped inside, changed into indoor shoes, set the cases on the dining table, and headed straight for the bathroom—ignoring Kuroka's eager expression.

Huh. He really did just go straight to take a bath…

Foiled, Kuroka blinked in surprise. She wasn't too discouraged, though, and her gaze soon fell on the two briefcases sitting on the table.

Tapping her index finger against her lips, the cat-eared girl leaned forward and inspected them, asking,

"Bokue～ What's in these boxes?"

"Tonight's unexpected haul. One of them's money; the other has something sealed inside—haven't opened it yet. Don't touch it."

His voice echoed out of the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of water filling the tub.

"Oh…"

Kuroka's eyes flickered.

"Oh, right—about that new TV you mentioned in your text, I moved it into your bedroom."

"Thanks. I'll take it back out later."

"Huh? Why? Didn't you always keep the TV in the bedroom?"

"Yeah, and you fried the last one."

With the bathroom door open, their conversation reverberated clearly.

Kuroka pouted. "It's not all my fault. You were playing some horror game in the middle of that, the ghost popped up so close and startled me—plus you went, y'know… deeper. I just lost control for a second."

Noting the tub was nearly full, Bokue turned off the faucet and slipped in, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water rose to his chest.

"I'm not blaming you. I just figured the bed and TV stand were too close. If I put the TV in the living room, then there's a couch between it and you—so hopefully no more spraying the outlet next time."

"Oh, really?"

She gave a soft huff.

Even though he'd basically forgiven her, for some reason she felt like she'd just been issued a new challenge.

It's just two or three extra meters compared to the bedroom—she'd show him next time!

As Kuroka daydreamed about her comeback, her gaze drifted back to the two briefcases on the table.

Right—Bokue said one was sealed.

He also said not to mess with it…but she was a cat—you can't expect a simple warning to overpower feline curiosity.

After a brief moment of checking for any signs of danger, the cat-eared girl carefully undid the latch and opened the case.

Inside, resting in a small recess lined with red silk, lay a shriveled, purple-black finger wrapped in countless talismans.

—What the heck had he brought home this time?

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