"You, with the stupid scar, have we met before?" Leo's voice cut through the air with an air of brashness as he pointed at a tall woman, her black hair drawn back into a slightly disheveled ponytail.

The tall woman seemed taken aback by the abruptness of Leo's question, a nervous sweat forming on her brow as she shook her head in response. "I don't think we have," she replied, her voice slightly shaky.

"Hmm," Leo hummed, his gaze narrowing as he continued to scrutinize her. "Liar."

"W-We really haven't," the woman named Michiko stammered, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to stand her ground against Leo's piercing gaze. The confrontation was unsettling, to say the least.

Beside her, her partner Yutaro stood, attempting to blend into the background and avoid being caught up in whatever was unfolding. He had no desire to become entangled with the War Fiend – as far as he was concerned, the less he interacted with it, the better.

Leo was currently waiting in a hospital corridor after accompanying Denji and Power as they visited Aki and Himeno. In the hallway, stood a pair of devil hunters bearing matching horizontal scars – Michiko's scar started from the right, while her partner's began from the left.

Although time had passed, Leo vaguely recognized the girl whose bike he had 'borrowed' long ago. He had used the Known Devil's abilities to erase her memory of that encounter, so she wouldn't recognize him, but now seemed an opportune moment to see if he could undo the devil's effects.

"Liar," Leo challenged, closing the distance between them.

As he reached into his jacket, Michiko's anxiety escalated. Makima's terrifying presence was still fresh in her memory, and now the War Devil was confronting her.

"I-I'm not, I..." Michiko abruptly stopped mid-gesture, her gaze becoming distant. Both Leo and her partner, Yutaro, regarded her with confusion. "Ah..."

Michiko's eyes widened abruptly, her thoughts racing back to a time when someone had stolen her bike for a mere 300 yen.

After Leo had 'purchased' her bike from her, her parents began treating her strangely. They even took her to the hospital multiple times, mistakenly believing she had memory problems. For a significant part of her childhood, Michiko had taken medication to improve her memory, all because of her parents' concern – and now, the individual responsible for those years of childhood frustration stood before her.

"Y-You," Michiko's finger jabbed angrily at Leo. "You're the piece of shit... you..."

However, her fury waned when she truly took in Leo's presence. This wasn't just the person who had taken her bike; this was the same person who had decimated the Gun Devil in the blink of an eye.

"I... I..." Michiko's voice faltered as she attempted to articulate her thoughts. She wanted to apologize for her outburst, to express her pent-up frustration, but the reality of facing the War Devil left her tongue-tied.

"What did you just call me?" Leo's voice cut through the air like a blade, his gaze narrowing as he invaded Michiko's personal space.

Yutaro's heart ached for Michiko, but he felt powerless to intervene – facing off against the strongest fiend in Japan, if not the world, was beyond his capacity. He averted his gaze, trying to distance himself from whatever Michiko was experiencing.

Before tensions could escalate any further, the door to Aki's room swung open, and Denji and Power emerged, the former holding a gift basket brimming with apples and the latter nonchalantly munching on one of the fruits.

"Guess that's that," Leo mumbled to himself as he casually turned away from Michiko, prompting her to release a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

The pair of devil hunters observed as Leo approached Denji and Power, gesturing toward something in the distance. Denji responded with a cheerful salute, while Power, though initially offering a scowl, eventually gave in and reluctantly offered her own salute.

Michiko and Yutaro stood by, watching Leo enter Aki's room in the wake of Denji and Power's departure.

Michiko and Yutaro exchanged a glance, the weight of the situation slowly lifting. Yutaro hesitantly gestured toward Aki's room, his voice a whisper. "Isn't that the room we were supposed to go into...?"

A reluctant nod came from Michiko as she let out a sigh. "Yeah..."

A shared sigh escaped them both as they contemplated their next steps.

"Only two years, huh?" Leo mused as he entered Aki's room, his presence catching a snippet of Aki's conversation with the Curse Devil about his remaining years to live.

Aki quietly sheathed the Curse Devil's nail sword, his expression remained inscrutable. Meanwhile, Leo closed the door with a soft click, his attention shifting to the window. He opened it, letting a gentle breeze rustle the curtains.

"If it's any consolation, human, you won't be alone in facing your end in two years," Leo casually remarked.

Aki's face didn't show any emotion as he reached past an apple Denji had left behind and grabbed a cigarette pack along with the lighter sitting on top.

"What are you talking about?" Aki inquired, his tone feigning indifference while his nerves betrayed him.

"Do you really want to know?" Leo asked, tilting his head slightly. "Do you really want to know the darkest secret that'll haunt you for the rest of your life?"

"What about you, bastards outside, would you also like to know?" Leo addressed the room at large, his voice reverberating in the confined space.

Slowly, the door to Aki's hospital room opened, revealing Michiko and Yutaro standing awkwardly.

"Um, no..." Yutaro quietly muttered. "I don't think I'd like to know the darkest secret."

"Too bad, I'm eager to share the weight of it with as many humans as possible," Leo retorted, his tone unwavering leaving no room for argument.

With visible hesitation, Michiko and Yutaro stepped further into the room, quietly shutting the door behind them.

"Pardon the intrusion..." they simultaneously muttered as they stood awkwardly in the room's open space.

Leo's gaze shifted to them briefly before returning to Aki. "Now that we've got a captive audience, let's dive into it, shall we?" his tone was almost teasing, relishing in the discomfort he could sense in the room.

"For starters, it seems the Curse Devil's prediction refers to a fate shared by over 90% of the global population—you included—scheduled for July 1999," Leo started, relishing the range of reactions that played across the faces of Michiko and Yutaro. Aki, to his credit, maintained a stoic facade, even though his eyes betrayed a subtle widening.

"The world as you know it will come to an end in the year one thousand nine hundreds ninety nine. The great king of terror will descend from the sky, to be brought back to life by the great King of Angoulmois. Before after Mars to reign by good fortune," Leo elucidated, a touch of smugness curling his lips. "It's all spelled out by none other than Nosferatu."

While Nostradamus had penned down that prophecy, the significance lay not in its literal content, but in the implications that rippled beneath its surface.

In the wake of Leo's words, a palpable silence descended upon the room, its weight pressing down on the occupants. Michiko's and Yutaro's faces drained of color, eyes widened in disbelief, while Aki's veneer of composure began to crack. The gravity of the prophecy loomed heavily, casting a shroud of uncertainty over their thoughts.

With a slight tremor in her voice, Michiko ventured to break the silence, her incredulity evident. "Wait, are you saying that we're all going to die in 1999? That's... that's impossible, right?"

Leo's smile persisted, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is it, though?"

Aki's voice cut through the tension, his tone a blend of skepticism and defiance. "Even if there's a prophecy, that doesn't mean we have to accept it as truth. We can change our fate."

Leo offered a thoughtful nod before stepping away from the window's embrace. "I'm sure you could... just a shame you won't remember the prophecy," he replied enigmatically, his path leading him to the sliding door.

"What do you mean we won't remember?" Tendo's voice edged toward panic, urgency lacing her words.

"Remember what?" Leo posed, tilting his head in a gesture of feigned innocence.

"Remember..." Michiko's sentence trailed off, her gaze vacant and distant.

Beside her, Yutaro mirrored her confusion. What had they been discussing?

"Move along now, you've got things to do," Leo mockingly chided, stepping out of the room and leaving the door ajar behind him.

Michiko massaged her temples, her forehead creased with confusion. Yutaro shook his head, his mind fogged with uncertainty.

Inside the nail sword, Aki could hear the eerie laughter of the Curse Devil, a disconcerting sound that left him utterly perplexed.

Outside the room, the hospital hallway stretched out before Leo. His demeanor remained aloof, a carefully crafted mask that hid the intricate tapestry of emotions beneath. The War Fiend had fulfilled his role.

As he walked down the corridor, each step he took resonated with a sense of purpose. His movements were deliberate, a manifestation of his calculated intentions. The bustling environment of the hospital surrounded him – a symphony of activity where life and healing intertwined.

The corridors seemed labyrinthine, each turn leading to a new intersection of possibilities. Yet, Leo navigated them effortlessly, his focus unwavering. He continued down the path until he arrived at his destination – the entrance to the emergency room. The light above the doorway remained dim, signifying its temporary reprieve from its duty. Leo positioned himself a few yards away, taking in the scene before him.

The hallway echoed memories, a silent testament to the passage of time. The walls, freshly adorned with a coat of white paint, reflected the ambient light, casting a luminous glow throughout the corridor. Leo's gaze remained fixed on the closed doors.

Static filled his mind briefly, a fleeting reminder of the interplay between memory and reality. The static morphed into a haunting rhythm – the steady beeping of a heart monitor. Leo felt a tug at the edge of his consciousness, a familiar sensation that held him in its grip. He gazed at the in-use sign above the door, its intermittent flicker echoing the rhythm of his memories.

The beeping held a weight, a resonance that tapped into Leo's emotions. He closed his eyes, the echoes of the past intertwining with the present moment. The beeping transformed, melding into the rhythm of heartbeats.

But life's rhythm wasn't eternal; it was a melody that would eventually come to a close. The heartbeats dissolved into a single, continuous tone – the ominous beep of a flatline.

Leo lowered himself, his form folding in on itself as he crouched on the cold hospital floor. The memories surged within him, a current that threatened to engulf his senses. It had been years since he'd set foot in this place, and yet the memories remained vivid and raw.

"I wanna go home," his voice was a whisper, carried away by the hospital's sterile air.

The haunting recollections of that fateful day surged forth – the heart monitor's rhythmic cadence, Shouzou's grief-laden sobs, and the shattering explosion that had torn their world apart.

The memories played like a film reel, scenes flashing in rapid succession. Leo's ears were filled with the resounding echoes of the past, a symphony of pain and loss that reverberated through his soul. The once-distinct lines between memory and reality blurred.

Overwhelmed by the cacophony of memories, Leo's ears began to ring, as if echoing the explosions that had changed his life. Time blurred as seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes into hours. How long had he been crouched in the hallway?

Soon enough, static filled Leo's ears, further distorting the haunting memories that continued to play in a hazy blur. The past scenes were nothing but fragmented snippets, like puzzle pieces scattered across his mind.

The chaotic jumble of memories merged into one another, forming a disjointed collage of the explosion's aftermath. Flashes of yellow, black, and gray filled Leo's vision, resembling fragments of a shattered reality. Within this whirlwind, wails began to pierce the air – the soft cries of babies, or perhaps multiple babies, echoing through his mind.

As the blurs and fragments shifted, the yellow hue gained prominence, slowly filling Leo's vision like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. Like waves on a shore, the yellow blur flowed, gradually taking shape and revealing familiar golden locks of hair.

Vibrant purple with hints of pink soon materialized alongside the yellow. These colors intertwined, forming a tapestry that partially obscured the smaller, more delicate features in their embrace.

"We did it," a voice whispered, and Leo's mind sharpened its focus. Ai's words resonated with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph as she held up the precious twins.

The memory transported Leo to a moment that felt like yesterday, yet it was a milestone in his life. The day Ruby and Aqua were born – a day that held both joy and a lingering shadow of the world's harsh realities.

A sigh escaped Leo's lips, a blend of sentimentality and exasperation. "Honestly," he muttered, straightening up from his crouched position. "I can't even let my guard down for a second with you, you lousy devil."

Inside his mind, Yoru's laughter chimed in, an ethereal sound that resonated like bells. "Stupid idiot got caught, HAHA!"

Yoru's amusement echoed within Leo's consciousness, the Known Devil's presence palpable. It remained silent, chastened by Yoru's mockery, having tried and failed to seize control of Leo's mind during that brief moment of vulnerability.

Stretching his neck to the side, Leo let out another sigh, the weight of his thoughts gradually easing. He turned on his heel, his steps measured and deliberate as he distanced himself from the closed emergency room doors.

A moment's pause, and Leo glanced back at the room one final time as if bidding farewell to a chapter of his past. Yuki's absence was a void that couldn't be filled, but her memory remained etched in his heart. Moments of laughter, shared dreams, and tender gazes were like fragments of a puzzle that he held close.

While time flowed onward, heedless of personal tragedies, Leo carried with him the enduring memories of simpler, brighter days. Moments when life was less convoluted, the challenges less overwhelming.

Yet, despite the weight of his memories, the world persisted in its rhythm. The passing of time was indifferent to personal sorrows, just as life's gravity wasn't diminished by the levity of laughter. Leo's responsibilities remained steadfast.

Ai, Ruby, Aqua, and even the once-gruff Shouzou, were his pillars, his family, his reason to keep moving forward. Their bonds were unbreakable, formed through shared experiences and unwavering support.

With a thoughtful expression, Leo's musings echoed in the corridor as he moved toward the exit. "There's still a few months before everything aligns, and if I'm fortunate enough, everything will fall into place within two."

A few days later, in a cozy villa overlooking the beach.

"Guest from the Public Safety Bureau, let me fetch the good tea," a man in a white suit remarked.

"Thank you very much for your cooperation," Makima replied calmly.

Gathered behind her, a group of six individuals were stationed, overseeing her as she sat on a black couch. A table separated the two couches—one for Makima and the other for the man in the white suit.

"It appears that some of our youngsters went on a bit of a shooting spree in Tokyo," the man reclined on the couch. "I suppose I owe you whatever answers I possess. I want you to understand it wasn't under my orders."

The man retrieved a photo from his jacket—a picture of Akane Sawatari. "From what I've gathered, this Sawatari woman is the one behind it all. She was the contact who lured these kids into deals involving the Gun Devil."

Makima observed the picture of Sawatari. "What sort of contracts?"

"They hand over 20,000 yen to the Gun Devil, and in return, they receive guns and ammo," the man chuckled, reclining further into the couch and gazing at the ceiling. "Imagine that, devils needing money. They're not so dissimilar from us after all."

Unfolding a piece of paper from her pocket, Makima placed it on the table. "I need you to jot down the names of everyone in your organization who has entered into a contract with the Gun Devil."

"Sure thing," the man nonchalantly looked back at Makima. "Let's give them some time behind bars to contemplate their actions."

"I'll also require the names from other factions, not just yours," Makima informed him.

The man's demeanor shifted, his face growing less casual as he straightened up. "That's not happening."

"It's for the safety of the public," Makima calmly asserted. "I'm kindly requesting your cooperation."

"If you genuinely have the public's safety in mind, then you'd settle matters with our organization," the man retorted. "We wouldn't want Tokyo to turn into an inferno once more, would we?"

"What are you implying?" Makima asked with genuine curiosity, studying the man with a hint of intrigue.

"Thirteen years ago, following the Gun Devil's rampage, you don't seriously believe that the subsequent fires that swept through Japan were mere accidents, do you?" the man casually inquired, reaching for a small box containing cigars. "No, that was a declaration from an old family reclaiming their dominion over Japan. The only reason groups like ours still exist is that we comply and steer clear of their path. If you're truly concerned about public safety, you won't go around poking a sleeping bear."

Makima's eyes widened subtly, her neutral facade still intact.

Upon first encountering Leo and analyzing his contract, she swiftly connected the dots, attributing the fires plaguing Japan's post-Gun Devil attack to him. Initially, she had assumed it was an adolescent venting his frustration on random homes across the nation after a personal loss. Yet, the revelation that these were coordinated assaults rather than random acts was startling. Leo was far from an ordinary civilian; he was a Yakuza member operating in broad daylight.

Could this explain Leo's affiliation with the War Devil? Had he exploited his Yakuza connections to access restricted information? If so, what motives drove him and his faction?

Countless inquiries flooded Makima's thoughts as she endeavored to piece together the puzzle. Regrettably, a coherent solution remained elusive.

"Tsukumo..." Makima ruminated internally before refocusing on the man before her.

"Even if they've fallen silent, it doesn't mean they won't bare their teeth if you delve too deep. Public Safety squandered their opportunity to dismantle them years ago when they allowed them free rein. Hell, they might even be funding your paychecks by now," the man mused, igniting his cigar as he spoke.

"Whatever threat they pose, Public Safety will handle it," Makima reassured with a pleasant tone.

The man let out a scoff. "Save your breath, you ain't getting any more information from me."

Makima maintained her composed smile as she reached under the table and retrieved a paper bag.

"A bribe?" one of the men behind her mockingly speculated aloud.

The man in the white suit remained silent, setting his cigar aside to inspect the bag on the table before taking another drag.

"This isn't money," Makima calmly clarified. "It contains possessions belonging to associates of everyone present."

"Hmm," the man murmured, noticing the bottom of the bag beginning to stain.

"Parents, grandparents, siblings, lovers, spouses..." Even as Makima listed the relationships, her serene expression remained unwavering. "Their eyes..."

"Eyes?" the man echoed, his companions behind Makima visibly displaying hints of nervousness.

Glancing at Makima, the man shifted his gaze back to her remarkably calm demeanor and then down at the bag resting on the table.

With an audible sigh, he placed his cigar in an ashtray and then opened the bag. True to her word, various colored eyes filled the bag halfway.

Unfazed by the assortment of dislodged eyeballs, the man displayed little perturbation. Instead, he sighed again, taking out a single eye before regarding Makima. "Just a single eye?"

Makima was slightly taken aback by the man's nonchalant attitude, especially compared to the anxiety evident among the men behind her. Nevertheless, she nodded.

"Just an eye..." the man chuckled. "I used to think only devils had the gift of foresight."

Makima observed as the man dropped the eye back into the bag before sealing it and rising from his seat. She watched him traverse the table, taking particular care to avoid the bag at its center. He proceeded to step onto the couch where she sat, pausing briefly to reach into his jacket. He withdrew a neatly presented envelope and handed it over to Makima before nimbly leaping over the couch's backrest.

"Is it just me, or does the air carry a sweet scent?" the man inquired darkly, embracing two of his comrades, drawing them close in an almost possessive manner. His gaze fixed on Makima, and he smirked. "Be seeing ya, Makima."

Makima's composed facade shattered as her eyes widened. In an instant, the man erupted into flames, the fire swiftly consuming him and the two individuals he held. The other men within the confined space screamed, but it was futile—within moments, the room was engulfed in a fiery conflagration.

Outside, the beachside villa detonated in a blazing burst that reached towards the heavens. Adjacent vehicles detonated in the face of the intense heat radiating from the fire.

The resounding explosion's shockwave pushed back the neighboring trees, yet the fire's searing intensity failed to set them ablaze. Emerging from the epicenter of the blast, Makima arose from the debris, her skin devoid of a single blemish, while her attire bore the marks of scorching. Gazing downward, she noticed the table on which the bag had rested remained unscathed, bag included.

The flames encircled her, their heat caressing her skin, but curiously, they shied away from her touch. As her fingers extended toward them, the flames gracefully danced aside, evading contact, preserving her from harm's reach.

Makima observed the flames for several moments before deciding to open the envelope that had been handed to her. Unsealing it, her attention was immediately drawn to a roughly drawn peace sign accompanied by the words "Two steps ahead," haphazardly scrawled beside it. She regarded the message with a vacant expression, a subtle smile unconsciously forming on her lips.

Gazing up at the inferno enveloping her surroundings, Makima emitted an amused giggle.

Her encounter with the War Devil had sufficiently confirmed Leo's demise—his scent had vanished when she shared a space with him at the bar. Makima lowered her gaze back to the note and emitted a soft giggle. Even in death, had Leo orchestrated posthumous schemes?

Ultimately, the bureau's desire was granted—Leo was dead, although not by their hands. Yet, it appeared that even in death, he had laid contingencies to safeguard his associates. If Makima were to delve into the backgrounds of those linked to Leo before his passing, would she encounter similar safeguards shielding them from her reach?

"Only one way to find out..." she muttered aloud, folding the note and tucking it into her pocket. She extended her hand to retrieve the bag of eyes, but curiously, the bag had vanished.

Makima greeted the oddity with a smile before a cough escaped her, indicating the smoke's encroachment upon her senses.

"What to do, what to do?" she murmured, stepping over the charred remnants as she embarked on her exit from the freshly incinerated villa.

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