Chapter 1: Summoned
Kurogaki Akuma's heart pounded frantically against his ribcage, sending shivers down his spine as he tried to slink out of the shadows. He knew he had to get away from the gang of bullies who were closing in on him with each passing second. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breath came out in short, shallow huffs as he realized that he was their chosen target.
Despite his best efforts, Akuma was soon caught by the collar by the leader of the group. The towering figure was a behemoth of a boy, his muscles bulging with every movement he made. With a rough jerk, he slammed Akuma against the unforgiving concrete wall, causing him to cry out in pain. The younger boy struggled to free himself, but his small frame was no match for the strength of the bullies.
As Akuma fought to break free, the gang of bullies closed in on him. They taunted and jeered him, their fists raining down upon him with ferocious speed and power. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the abandoned alleyway as Akuma tried to shield himself from the never-ending barrage of blows.
With a final blow to the gut, the bullies brought Akuma down to his knees. The lead bully, an imposing figure with a menacing look, grabbed the smaller boy by the collar and hurled him against the rough concrete wall. Akuma cried out, his head spinning from the impact.
The gang of bullies surrounded him, their faces twisted into cruel, mocking grins. They took turns punching and kicking him, each blow sending shockwaves of agony through his body. Akuma tried to fight back, but his efforts were feeble and ineffective against the sheer power of the bullies.
The lead bully, who seemed to take particular pleasure in tormenting Akuma, unleashed a flurry of blows that left the younger boy reeling. Each punch felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, and Akuma could feel his bones bending and breaking under the force of the onslaught. He struggled to stay conscious, his mind clouded with pain and fear.
Bruised and battered, Kurogaki Akuma lay on the ground, his body trembling with pain. As the bullies finally walked away, Akuma was left alone, his mind reeling with confusion and fear. He couldn't understand why he had been targeted, why he had been subjected to such cruelty. As he lay there, he realized that he was at the mercy of those stronger than him, and he didn't know how to escape their grasp.
The pain and humiliation he had just endured, Akuma was not what his name represents. Kurogaki Akuma was an uncommon name in Japan, but it did carry a certain significance. "Kurogaki" meant "black thorn," a symbol of resilience and strength in the face of adversity. "Akuma," on the other hand, meant "demon" or "devil," a name that was given to him by mother that clearly didn't represent the weak nerd at all.
Back in the classroom, Akuma sat at his desk, lost in thought as the other students chattered around him. He was a skinny boy with messy black hair and thick glasses that magnified his dark eyes. He looked like any other student in the classroom, but there was something about him that set him apart from the others, a bruised face.
Akuma had always been a bit of an outcast, a loner who preferred books to sports and quiet contemplation to rowdy parties. He was often teased and bullied by the other students, but he refused to let their cruelty defeat him. He found solace in the pages of his favorite books and the quiet corners of the school library, where he could escape from the noisy world outside.
He sat alone at a small table in the corner of the library, his nose buried in a thick, leather-bound book. The title, "Ars Goetia," was printed in gold letters on the cover. As he read, his dark eyes scanned the ancient text, absorbing its secrets.
The library was quiet, save for the faint sound of pages turning and the occasional cough or sneeze. Akuma welcomed the solitude, as it allowed him to focus on the words before him.
He was fascinated by the text, which detailed the summoning and binding of demons. It was a dangerous and forbidden practice, one that had been outlawed for centuries, but Akuma couldn't help but be drawn to it.
As he read, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. It was as if the words were coming to life, swirling around him like a whirlwind of dark energy. He could feel the power of the demons in the pages, and a thrill ran through him at the thought of harnessing it.
Despite his curiosity, Akuma was well aware of the risks associated with delving into dark arts. He closed the occult book with a gentle thud and took a deep breath to resist the temptation. He knew he had to put a stop to his curiosity since the book was named as such for a reason.
Akuma's gaze wandered around the library, taking in the rows of books that lined the shelves. His eyes lit up with excitement at the thought of the world of knowledge that lay within those pages, and he knew that he could never tire of exploring it. With a small smile, he picked up another book and delved into its pages.
As he read, Akuma became lost in the world of isekai, where the possibilities were endless and he could escape from the struggles of his daily life. His mother's involvement in a strange cult and the constant bullying he endured at school made him yearn for a different world, one where he could be whoever he wanted to be.
The library was Akuma's refuge, a sanctuary where he could forget about his troubles and immerse himself in the stories that captured his imagination. And so he spent most of his free time there, lost in the pages of books that offered a glimpse of a world beyond his own.
He pored over the pages of his latest isekai novel, his mind was transported to a world far beyond the mundane reality of his everyday life. He imagined himself as the hero of the story, with magical powers and a noble quest to fulfill.
The pages of the book seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, as if beckoning him to step into the story and leave his own world behind. Akuma felt a sense of longing stir within him, a deep-seated desire to escape the drudgery of his everyday life.
He read through the day, lost in the magical worlds of the isekai stories. As dawn approached, he reluctantly closed the book and returned it to its shelf. He knew that he had to face the reality of his own life, but the pull of the isekai world remained strong.
Akuma wondered if there was a way to bring the magic of the isekai stories into his own life, to make his own world a little more bearable. He kept reading and searching for answers, to never give up hope that there was a way to escape the pain and loneliness that haunted him.
As the clock struck 5 o'clock, Akuma sighed and closed his book. He was always the last one to leave the library, the silence and solitude of the space calming his nerves. The streets of Kyoto were quiet as he walked home, his thoughts still consumed by the isekai stories he had just read.
Akuma left the library and stepped outside, he was met with the chilly winter air. He pulled his coat closer around him and started walking towards his apartment, located in the heart of the city. The streets were still quiet, as most people had already left work and headed home.
He walked past the familiar buildings and shops, his mind still replaying scenes from the isekai stories he had been reading. The stories were fascinating to him, but he knew he couldn't get lost in them forever. He had to focus on his studies and make something of himself.
As he turned a corner, he saw a group of schoolgirls giggling and chatting. They were probably heading home from club activities, he thought to himself. He continued walking, passing by a few more people, some walking their dogs or running errands.
Akuma reached his apartment building and retrieved his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and ascending the stairs to his unit on the third floor. As he entered, he was met with the usual sight of black candles and strange symbols scattered around the apartment. It was a familiar scene, as his mother had always been involved in some sort of Satanic cult and her obsession with the dark arts was evident in the decor.
Akuma couldn't help but wonder if this was the reason behind his unusual name, Kurogaki Akuma. "Black thorn demon" seemed like an appropriate moniker for someone with a mother like his.
Akuma sighed as he closed the door behind him. He knew he was in for another night of strange occurrences. As he took off his shoes, he noticed the familiar scent of incense in the air. The candles on the coffee table were still flickering, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
He made his way to his room, stepping over various trinkets and symbols on the floor. His mother had always been interested in the occult, and his fascination with it had only grown.
Akuma didn't share his mother's beliefs, but he couldn't deny the eerie sense of comfort he felt in the midst of her rituals. As he lay in bed, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the world than what he could see. He had always been fascinated by stories of other worlds and magical beings, and his interest had only grown since his life in this world had become so difficult.
He reached for his phone and pulled up a list of recommended isekai stories. He began scrolling through the summaries, lost in a world of swords, magic, and adventure. For a moment, he forgot about his troubles and the strange rituals happening just a few rooms away.
But as the night grew darker and the incense grew stronger, Akuma couldn't help but wonder if there was something more sinister at play. Was his mother really just practicing harmless rituals, or was there something deeper and darker that he didn't understand?
He turned off his phone and closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts from his mind. But as sleep just about to finally claim him, he wondered about what mysteries awaited him in the shadows of his own home.
It was late, and he knew he should go to sleep, but his mind was still buzzing with the adventures he had read about in the latest web novel he had discovered. He stretches his limbs as he tries to be as comfortable as possible. The streets of Kyoto were quiet and peaceful at this time of night, the moon casting a soft glow over the city.
But then he heard something that made his blood run cold. It was the sound of moaning, coming from his mother's room. Akuma knew what it meant - the satanic cult ritual of lust. He had heard it before, the sounds of his mother's pleasure mixed with the grunts of multiple men.
His body tensed up as he shuddered involuntarily, his eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the deafening sounds that surrounded him.
But the noises persisted, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment, until he knew he could no longer ignore them. With a deep breath and a heavy heart, he slowly opened his eyes, he couldn't ignore it anymore.
The rhythmic creaking of a bed frame filled the air, accompanied by loud moans. The muffled sounds of lust coming from the other side of the apartment room's paper-thin wall.
As the moans grew louder, the world around Akuma became increasingly blurry, his vision spinning like a drunkard's after a night at the bar. As he tried to sit on his bed, the room swirled even more, making it difficult for him to focus.
Desperately, Akuma tried to grab his phone, but it snapped in half before his fingers could reach it. Panic seized him as he realized that something was seriously wrong with his body. He tried to cry out for help, but his voice failed him, and he collapsed onto the bed, feeling helpless and alone.