Ep15: "Ragna vs. the Human World Bureaucracy"

It started with a letter.

A very official-looking envelope appeared in Ragna's mailbox one morning, sealed with a golden emblem shaped like a shinto gate crossed with a government stamp. The return address read: "Tokyo Bureau of Paranormal Regulation and Civic Harmony (Subsection 3-A)."

Ragna squinted. "Civic what-now?"

Inside, the letter was a formal summons to appear at a hearing regarding repeated "magical anomalies and energy discharges" traced to his restaurant. The letter was also lightly enchanted and sang the word compliance whenever opened.

"This is absurd," Ragna muttered, setting it on fire.

It immediately reformed itself on the table.

Sakura, sipping coffee, didn't even look up. "You're going."

Three days later, Ragna Maou—former Lord of the Twelfth Inferno—sat in a dull gray government building beneath flickering fluorescent lights.

The walls were lined with enchanted dampeners. A very bored water elemental in a suit passed out paperwork.

Across from Ragna sat his designated spiritual attorney: a smug, overly-groomed exorcist named Junpei Araragi. He wore a charm-studded tie and constantly checked his mirror shard for rogue spirits in his hair.

"Now listen," Junpei began, tapping his sleek digital wand against a file. "You're a powerful, borderline-deified former archdemon running a restaurant that produces unregistered dimensional resonance spikes every time you make spicy egg curry. That's... frowned upon."

Ragna raised a brow. "Frowned upon by who? The God of Mild Seasoning?"

"By the Bureau," Junpei snapped. "And possibly Interdimensional Cuisine Regulation Zone 4-B."

Ragna leaned back. "They're lucky I don't cook lava eel anymore."

Junpei adjusted his monocle. "You did. Last Tuesday. Four blocks of Meguro went temporally vegetarian."

The hearing chamber resembled a cross between a courtroom and a shrine.

Three bureaucrats sat behind a lacquered desk protected by holy wards. One was a bored tanuki in a blazer. Another was a half-asleep monk with a floating pen. The third was a stern woman with paper charms in her hair.

"Mr. Maou," she began, "you are here today to respond to violations of Magical Regulation Code 46B — namely, improper containment of culinary-based spiritual emissions."

Ragna smiled charmingly. "Didn't realize making good food was a crime."

"When it causes a parallel rift to manifest inside a takoyaki grill, yes."

Junpei cleared his throat. "Your Honors, my client has since adjusted his recipes and warded the restaurant, per regulatory recommendations."

"We have the footage," the tanuki said, pressing a crystal.

A 3D projection showed Ragna flambéing a plate of gyoza. The flames exploded upward and summoned a fire imp who briefly began salsa dancing.

The monk sighed. "The imp challenged three customers to a hot pepper duel."

"And I won," the imp's voice echoed proudly from the recording.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Sakura sat on a bench with Lily, who was coloring in a magical workbook.

"Why is Daddy always in trouble with city people?" Lily asked.

Sakura sighed. "Because the city isn't built to handle apocalyptic spice levels."

Back inside, the bureaucrats continued listing incidents: time-loops in the soup, flaming chopsticks that bit customers, ramen that healed emotional trauma without a license.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" the stern woman asked.

Ragna stood slowly, eyes glowing faintly. "I've spent centuries waging war. I've melted castles. I've fought archangels on comet-back. I have never caused more chaos than I did running a restaurant in Japan."

The room went quiet.

He raised one hand.

"But if it's chaos you want to measure—then witness this."

Junpei hissed. "Please don't summon anything—"

Too late.

With a snap of his fingers, Ragna conjured a flaming chicken. Not metaphorical. A literal phoenix-sized poultry made of fire and glory. It strutted on the hearing table and crowed dramatically.

Everyone screamed.

"Behold," Ragna declared, arms wide. "The Fire Chicken Supreme."

The monk passed out.

Junpei dropped his mirror shard.

The tanuki fled under the table.

An hour later, outside the building, Sakura walked calmly to the door, dragging a sizzling Ragna by the collar.

"You summoned poultry in court," she deadpanned.

"They didn't respect my cooking," he said proudly. "Now they do."

She looked at him, unimpressed.

"You're banned from governmental hearings for six months. Also, the Bureau is now reviewing the Fire Chicken for weapon classification."

Ragna grinned. "That's a win."

Lily ran up, waving a drawing of the phoenix chicken.

"Can we keep it as a pet?!"

Sakura sighed.

"Only if it doesn't lay exploding eggs."

From the sky, the Fire Chicken flapped once, squawked thunderously, and vanished in a burst of gold.

Far away, hidden in bureaucratic shadows, another figure reviewed the footage. A masked agent closed a file marked: Maou Family – Tier 7 Threat, Ascending.

They whispered:

"Activate the Spirit Surveillance Grid. The next incident... could break the veil."