Eight individuals gathered in the dilapidated theater long after closing time. They sat in the front row, glancing around and shifting uncomfortably.
A spotlight erupted from the stage, blinding them.
“I see you all accepted my invitation. Excellent. Thank you so much for coming,” said a man in a tuxedo and silk top hat. His voice reverberated through the theater and he seemed to float in the light. He flashed the befuddled spectators a smile. “We’ve got a very special show for you tonight. One we think you’ll enjoy right to the bitter end. Assistant—the picture, if you would!”
“I’m on it!” called a young man in baggy shorts from the back of the theater. As images began to flicker across the screen, the man onstage gestured broadly.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the film Sole Survivor, as all of you were in the cast. It’s an ensemble piece in which masked characters vanish, one by one. But alas, one person went beyond acting and disappeared for real. The film became a mystery, if you will, a missing persons case. One even I struggled to solve.” The man paused to pull a magnifying glass from his pocket. “It was a riddle. An enigma. Yes, this stage is thick with the heady scent of mystery! But there’s a turn to every trick, a sleight to every hand. Observation, my friends. Observation is the door to the truth.”
The man whirled to capture the audience in his magnifying glass. “The fiendish creator of that puzzle is among us tonight!” His lips curled at the hubbub this set off in the audience. He produced a rope tied into a large knot. “I’ve undone the knot of the mystery.” He tugged gently on either side of the rope, drawing it apart until the knot unraveled.
Someone gasped. The man onstage tossed the rope overhead, where it transformed into a cane. He caught the cane effortlessly and twirled it to and fro. It stopped abruptly, pointing into the audience. “You. You are the culprit.”
“Hey.”
No response.
“Hey, Power.”
Still no response.
“Power! I’m talking to you!”
Power was glued to the television—from where she was sitting, she could have taken a bite out of it—and oblivious to the boy roughly shaking her by the shoulders. At last she turned to look at the scruffy blond street punk scowling down at her. She scowled right back and tossed her head, brandishing her blood-red horns. “What do you want, Denji? They just got to the good part, and I’ll thank you to stay out of the way.”
“You’re the one who needs to get out of the way, Power. You’re blocking the signal from the remote! Move back so I can change the channel!” Denji grumbled.
“I won’t allow it.” Power turned back to the TV, but it was harder to ignore the hands shaking her.
“I said move!” Denji continued shaking her. “I’ve got things to watch too, you know!”
“You?” scoffed Power. “What would you watch?”
“The news,” Denji said.
“The news?” Power burst out laughing. “Why, because you resemble a police sketch? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Cram it,” Denji said sheepishly. “The one anchor chick is hot.”
“Ah, yes, you’ve mentioned her.” Power knew an angle when she found one. “The one who looks a bit like Makima, right? Well, that’s just stupid. I don’t wish to be part of anything stupid.”
Power’s brutal honesty was too much for Denji. He shot back, “Okay, what’s the supposedly great thing you’re watching?”
“How ignorant can you be? That’s Detective Magician!”
“Detective Magician?”
“Correct.” Power beamed. “He’s a brilliant sleuth who can solve any mystery.”
Solved! Detective Magician—Secret Tricks and Just Plain Secrets was a prime-time anime about an unassuming teenager who moonlighted as both a flamboyant stage magician and a detective who tackled cases of every kind. He didn’t like solving mysteries so much as he liked being the center of attention. He adored the admiring gazes and showers of applause he got every time a case closed.
Attention. Applause. Admiration. Power could identify with wanting those things.
The Blood Fiend rose, studying the room intently. “Aha! The criminal is here!” she announced, pointing at Meowy.
“Here?” Denji said, following Power’s accusatory digit right through Meowy to himself.
“I’ve undone the knot of this mystery. The culprit is you, Denji!”
“Me? What’d I do wrong?”
“A fine question.”
“You don’t know what you’re accusing me of?”
“Ah! I just now remembered. You,” Power declared, “are the foul criminal who ate all the ice cream out of the freezer!”
“You ate it yesterday.”
“What’s that? I ate no ice cream.”
Denji backed away. “This is getting weird …” Then he started laughing and clutching his stomach. “You had me going there, dumbass! Detective Magician! That’s a cartoon for kids!”
“How dare you mock Detective Magician? Show some respect!” Power sprang at Denji, who instinctively struck back. The two of them were alike in impulsiveness if nothing else. An unfortunate curtain, caught in the melee, was torn off its rod, and jars of spices toppled from the counter. Denji and Power tumbled back against the dinner table, still struggling.
“Keep it down! I’m on the phone!” A man leaned in from the next room, covering a receiver with his hand.
“Says the biggest mouth in this place,” Denji snapped.
“Let this be a lesson to you, Topknot,” said Power. “Silence is golden.” She and Denji kept their grips on one another’s lapels.
Aki hung up the phone and confronted them with a stormy look. Arms crossed and stance wide, he commanded, “Don’t talk back. This is my house. Sit down right where you are, and I don’t want to hear another peep out of either of you.”
Denji and Power glanced at each other. Without enthusiasm, they plopped down and crossed their legs. “Yes, sir.”
“Topknot is making an awful fuss,” Power muttered.
“First off, no fighting in the house,” said Aki. “Second, address me with respect. How long will it take you to learn manners?”
“Bleh,” said Denji. “Why the hell should we respect you? What do we get out of it?”
“You’ll have to advance a couple of pay grades before you earn respect!” Power added.
Aki spared a rueful glance for the spices on the floor, then muttered, “So that’s how it is. Okay, Denji, no dinner for you.”
“Hey! What the hell, dude?”
Power chortled. “That’s what you get for mocking the great Detective Magician!”
“And Power, for your dinner, it’s carrot and burdock root salad.”
“Huh?”
An empty stomach was Denji’s mortal enemy—and vegetables were Power’s. The owner of the house was well aware of his charges’ weaknesses.
“Oh, Hayakawa! Respected senior hunter,” Denji mewled.
“Respected senior hunter!” Power added. Both troublemakers shifted to kneel politely with their feet tucked in.
Aki gave a profound sigh. “Get on over to Public Safety. Miss Makima is asking for you.”
Devils, creatures born from fear, existed to terrorize humans. Public Safety’s role was to exterminate them, and the epicenter of anti-devil activity was the Public Safety Devil Extermination Special Division, where Power and Denji worked.
The red-tinted sunlight slanting through the office windows did nothing to dispel the tension that suffused the department. A woman with elegant features sat framed in the light.
“It’s been ten days since you moved in with Hayakawa, my dear Power,” she said. “How are the three of you getting along?” Her tone was casual, yet her voice pierced to the heart.
Denji’s and Power’s superior, Makima, reported directly to the Chief Cabinet Secretary. She wielded an inexhaustible air of authority, had eyes that seemed to pin anything caught in her gaze, and exuded a strange chill that froze one to the bone. In spite of herself, Power always tensed up in Makima’s presence.
“We’re, uh, great. Yup. Getting along swimmingly.” Power nodded ferociously, avoiding Makima’s eyes.
Beside her, Denji pointed gleefully. “Ms. Makima, wait till you hear this! She doesn’t bathe! Like, ever!”
“You liar! I’ve been bathing every three days, on the dot!” Power spat back.
“And she never flushes her poop!”
“I do! About half the time …”
“It oughta be all the time!”
“May I get a word in?” Makima purred. Power reflexively sat straightened up. “We have a devil hunting request, and I thought I might send you two.”
“Oh …” Power stammered. “I, uh, have … an urgent meeting that day!”
“You’ll notice I haven’t provided a date or details yet, Power,” Makima said with a faint smile. She slid some papers out of a large manila envelope. “The request comes from an entrepreneur in the hospitality industry. He has an isolated property up in the mountains, and it seems people have disappeared from it.”
“People … disappearing …” Power whispered to herself.
Denji raised his hand. “And you think a devil did it?”
“Exactly. At least, there’s a strong chance. We don’t have any clear descriptions, though, so it’s still something of a mystery.”
“A mystery …” Power’s mouth twitched.
Makima leaned her elbows on the table and gave them a pointed look. “I know I’ve mentioned more than once that Public Safety’s Devil Extermination Special Division 4 is an experimental unit. The moment the higher-ups don’t think it’s pulling its weight, they’ll axe this operation. Me, I’d like to see more of what the two of you can do. Think you can show me?”