Chapter 2

Two days had passed for Sam before he heard the sound of someone unlocking the door to his cell.

"Baby, baby, baby, oh!" He stopped singing and lifted his head. "It's you guys."

A man dressed in black stood with bodyguards around him, one of whom held handcuffs.

"Out of all the debtors we've had, you're the craziest one. I'll give you that," the man in black said.

Sam stood up and extended his hand to receive the cuffs. Simultaneously, he mentally commanded and activated his Wind-Footwork.

As the mob follower attempted to put the cuffs on him, Sam took off running past them. Before anyone could react, he was already behind them.

"Get him!"

"Bring the knives and crossbows!"

"Tell the others to lock the doors!"

Sam couldn't understand why they didn't have guns, but his body instinctively did. It turned out that, for some reason, guns were prohibited in this country. Regardless, his priority was escaping before he ran out of MP.

He reached a crossroads and paused for a moment, feeling a tingling sensation in his chest as he looked at one door. His sixth sense seemed to warn him of danger.

"I don't know about this devil stuff, but humans are scary enough for me. So, this way," Sam thought, choosing the other path and running even faster. His fear was real; once his MP ran out – about 9 minutes from now – he would slow down considerably.

Along the way, two individuals appeared, brandishing swords.

"Stop if you don't want to die."

"As if stopping would lead you to spare me," Sam retorted. He recalled a detail: the footwork he was employing allowed him to run on walls, something he had previous experience with. Placing a foot on the wall, he dashed above them.

"Hey! Stop!" Someone threw a sword at him, grazing his cheek and ear slightly.

"Damn you!" Sam landed on the ground and continued running. Adrenaline coursed through his system, propelling him even faster.

After a couple of minutes, he reached what seemed to be a dead end. Glancing left and right, he spotted a locked window. He tore off his shirt, wrapped it around his fist, and shattered the glass. Some shards embedded in his skin, but he paid them no mind as he jumped out of the window, sustaining more cuts.

He accessed the system and checked his stats.

[MP: 50/100 HP: 50/100]

The cuts had caused him to lose HP. 'I don't know what happens when it hits zero,' he pondered before resuming his escape. Fortunately, numerous buildings offered him cover, and he found a hiding spot behind a trash can.

'My speed is limited, but they're unaware of that. Concealment is the best strategy until I regain my energy.'

According to the system, he had a passive MP recovery of 5 points per second. The higher his wisdom, the faster his MP and MP recovery would improve.

'Still, I've got cuts. The blood might have left a trail here.'

Examining his hand, he spotted blood. Looking back the way he'd come, he noticed blood drops leading to his location.

Sighing, he clenched his hand on the trash can before tearing off his shirt. He wrapped it around the cuts and ascended a building via emergency stairs.

On the rooftop, he lay on his stomach and waited. His assumption was accurate: they followed the blood trail.

A tingling sensation filled his mind.

'Two devils,' he thought as the mob members encircled the trash can, swords drawn and cautiously moving around it.

The leader was engaged in some conversation with the trash can. Sam couldn't make it out clearly but caught snippets.

"Listen. Come out, clean up, and we'll ensure you're treated well. If not, your death won't be swift."

'Am I hearing this right?'

"One last chance." The man in black gazed at his minions, who then closed in on the trash can. Gradually, they began to stab it.

Sam's concern grew, but what troubled him more was his devil sense—two devils approaching.

Suddenly, an ugly creature emerged, crawling between the buildings. It stood at a towering 5 meters, composed of a mud-like substance. Countless arms sprouted from its amorphous body.

"Mud Devil-San. You should have waited."

"You took too long to bring me my meal."

"Apologies for the delay. This brat is surprisingly swift. Nevertheless, we've finally cornered him."

"Remember our contract?" inquired the devil.

"Yes. I must feed you every other day, and in return, you'll accelerate the growth of our weed-infested corpses."

"It's eleven o'clock. You have one hour. After that, your fate is sealed."

"Rest assured. If we can't locate him, you'll be fed regardless." He turned to his men, singling out one.

The man in question dropped to his knees. "Please, boss, I've done nothing wrong."

"Then hurry up and bring him here," the boss ordered, bowing to the mud creature. "Apologies for the trash can mess."

"Don't concern yourself. I only require blood." The mud devil extended a tongue-like appendage, lapping up the blood from the can. "You'll clean it before your offering."

One of the mob members opened the trash bin, discovering its emptiness as they flipped it over. Sam was nowhere to be found.

'Hold on a second. They're involved in drugs and brandishing swords, yet they lack firearms. Why?' Sam blinked twice. 'I was watching Chainsaw Man before I fell asleep... they banned guns to weaken the Gun Devil. Devils grow stronger through human fear... It doesn't make sense, but then, neither does waking up in a new body with a sudden grasp of language. So here I am.'

"He's not inside."

"Where did he vanish to?"

"He's above," said the devil, gazing at the roof. "I smell blood up there."

"Holy shit." Sam ruffled his hair. 'I've got about ten good minutes before they catch me.'

The mob members started ascending the stairs.

As Sam was about to make a run for it, he sensed the presence of another devil.

"Mud Devil, you've been exceptionally active lately. It's time for your annihilation," a calm, feminine, yet confident and ruthless voice declared. "The others can surrender for dealing with the devil, or they'll meet their end."

Sam looked downward. A pink-haired beauty with a well-proportioned figure stood amidst people clad in black suits. All of them exuded determination as they stared down the devil.

"You...? Makima. The Devil Hunters," the mob boss recognized.

The mud devil initially muttered, but rage consumed it as it screamed, "I truly despise devil hunters."

A gruesome slaughter ensued. The so-called devil hunters wielded their weapons with extraordinary skill, quickly subduing the devil. Some mob members were killed, while others surrendered or fled.

Sam contemplated his options. 'If I reveal myself, they might assume I'm affiliated with the mobs. It's best to remain hidden.'

That became his plan.

Sam lay on his back, closed his eyes, and savored a moment of relief.

However, his respite was short-lived. A strong tingle raced across his back, indicating the presence of another devil.

"You can't relax, you know," the calm feminine voice stated.

Taking a deep breath, Sam replied, "I was nearly devoured by a devil. Now that it's gone, can't I enjoy these minutes?"

"After we take you in and scrutinize your background, then you can celebrate," she asserted firmly. "Resist, and your relaxation will last for eternity."

Sam sat up and gazed into the eyes of the pink-haired devil, her yellow rinnegan catching his attention.

'This must be the time to experience pain,' he thought, giggling to himself.

"What's so amusing?" she inquired.

"Nothing. Just happy I'm alive" Sam replied before hearing a notification.

[Ding. Mission accomplished.]

[+500 exp]

[Level up: Level 2 (200/200)]

[Level up: Level 3 (200/400)]

[+2 Skill Points]

[+4 Affinity Points]