Death to you. A phrase the demon "Bloodstrider" Mura knows all too well; living out his unusual life as a would-be assassin in an unforgiving world. But in a twist of fate, Mura is exiled to Earth, stripped of his powers and is now hunted by those h...
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Ashuradō, Yomi — Two hours earlier. Mura walked about the busy streets of the large city, as cars stuck in traffic inched by at a snail's pace. Several advertisements flashed on enormous monitors displayed on towering skyscrapers. Whatever you could possibly want, there it was on a poster or television screen.
Mura looked up at an ad featuring a voluptuous woman dressed in black. She wore a large hat, one side folded over its top with three dangling silver charms hanging from the brim.
"You may know me as Lamia, Ninth of the Jikininki," the woman spoke in a smoky voice on the advertisement; holding a crystal bottle of some clear liquid. "But have you ever desired to be me? Now you can experience the aroma of the elite with Black Witch — the new fragrance for women."
Mura continued walking while his eyes were glued to the screen.
—She sounds pretty cute. I wonder if I'll get to meet her if I win the tournament?
His mind was just wandering now. He had asked at a few bars if anyone would be willing to partner up as his Thrall for the tournament. After no success he had even sunk as low as to ask a stray cat and bird to no avail.
—My desperation is clouding my train of thought. I need to go about this a different way.
Mura strolled into a secluded stretch of alleyway, looking to get away from the bustle of the city to a setting he was more comfortable around. He closed his eyes to think about what to do next, folding his arms across his chest as he meditated. He tuned out the noise of the outside world until everything became silent to him. Minutes later, he felt a hand grab his shoulder. Instinctively, Mura's eyes shot open and grabbed the perceived threat, holding the person's arm in a lock.
"Ow! Hey Mura, cut it out! It's me!" Said a familiar face.
"Grimm? The hell are you doing all the way out here? Never mind that, I could actually use your help."
Grimm rubbed his arm as Mura let go of it. He rubbed his shaved head, smiling lightly at Mura.
"It wouldn't happen to be about that Zoroaster Tournament thing, would it? I've been hearing around the grapevine that you're looking for a Thrall."
"Jeez, I sometimes forget that word travels fast around here. But yeah, it's just to get the Old Man his money."
Grimm laughed heartily, as if Mura had just told the world's most hilarious punchline.
"First off, I wouldn't be caught dead being anyone's Thrall. Old Man Belial may have forced us to train with all that magic shit as kids, but I never liked it. Preferred the old fashioned way of robbin' folks. Second off, Belial told me to find you."
Mura raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What for?"
"He's worried you're going to wind up dead in the tournament, you've only been doing small time robberies after all."
