Just as I’d predicted, my homeroom teacher was over the moon. Sure, having one of her students join the prestigious student council reflected well on her as a teacher, but she was far happier that I was finally socializing. A good teacher and a good person.

I didn’t have to tell her in person; the council would have notified her anyway. But it felt like the right thing to do. Besides, it was nice to give her something to smile about. She’d always been kind to me and really worried about my lack of friends.

The Japanese are a very social people—almost as though it’s an official requirement. Introverts quickly earn a reputation as oddballs here, and having no friends at school is a common cause of depression and psychological trauma. Personally, I didn’t give a damn. Keeping friends around just for appearances would only get in my way.

It’s just… what am I supposed to talk about with kids my physical age who don’t share my interests? Manga and anime, maybe, but why the hell would I bother? A complete waste of time.

My parents know more about that stuff than most of my peers. The last time Dad and I discussed Evangelion, for instance, he came out with such a mind-bending theory about what the anime was trying to say that I started looking at Ikari Shinji differently. And the entire family wholeheartedly agreed that Ikari Gendo was a four-eyed dickhead. So no, I don’t need my peers for discussions of Japanese “folk art.”

The student council and its members, though, were another matter entirely. First, they were demons who knew more than I did about a world that was still new to me. Second, they were strong fighters, and I could pick up some useful skills from them. Third, they were all mages, able to wield demonic power to varying degrees. Fourth, they were people I could speak to far more freely than anyone else.

That alone made socializing with the student council worth my time.

“Good morning.” Shinra Tsubaki greeted me with a measured nod and a hint of a smile as we crossed paths on my way to the student council offices.

“Good morning, Shinra-san.” I returned her nod.

“Just Tsubaki, Taro-kun.” An almost imperceptible smile touched her stern face as my eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re part of House Sitri now. That means a great deal to those of us who serve Sitri Sona-san. We call each other by our given names, so if you don’t mind…”

“Of course, Tsubaki-san. I understand. That’s fine with me.”

“Some of us are closer to House Sitri than to our own families.” Walking beside me, she looked me straight in the eye, her smile gone. “Some have no loved ones left in the mortal world at all. In time, you’ll hear some of your new companions’ stories, but please, Taro-kun, don’t press them. For some, the past is painful to remember. Just… be tactful.”

“I’m the very soul of tact, Tsubaki-san.” I allowed myself a slight smile. “Ask anyone—Chiba Taro has never once been caught prying into anyone’s private life.”

“Of course.” She gave a quiet, disapproving snort. “The great Chiba Taro-san wouldn’t concern himself with the private lives of mere trash, would he?”

“Our Lady’s Queen is remarkably perceptive,” I acknowledged with a perfectly straight face. “As your enemies in the Orthodox Church might put it, I’m not looking for godparents for my kids. Give it another couple of years, and I’ll have forgotten most of the people around me. Anyone I happen to run into later in life will remember me as that serious, reliable, polite but unsociable student from Kuoh Academy.”

“Our enemies, Taro-kun. Get used to it.” She gave me an unreadable look over her glasses.

“Ours,” I agreed. “By the way, Tsubaki-san, why do you wear glasses? Do you have poor eyesight?”

“Hmm…” Demon or not, a girl was still a girl. Shinra Tsubaki looked away, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face. It was subtle, but rather cute. “My eyesight is perfectly fine. The glasses are just an accessory. And before you ask, Sona-san’s glasses are just for looks too.”

“They really suit you both,” I said, and meant it. Girls in glasses look absolutely gorgeous, as far as I’m concerned. Provided the glasses actually suit them, of course, and don’t look utterly ridiculous.

“We know.” She lifted her chin proudly, then gave me a small nod of thanks as I opened the door to the student council’s reception area for her.

The reception area was fairly small: a little sofa, a couple of armchairs, a coffee table for visitors, and a secretary’s desk. The secretary was a blond guy my age—Saji Genshiro. Aside from his name and age, all I knew was that he’d joined the student council just a couple of days earlier.

“Good morning, Tsubaki-san.” He half rose from his chair, smiling politely at Shinra-san before looking at me in mild surprise.

“Good morning.” The vice-president’s expression remained stern, but her eyes were warm. “Genshiro-kun, meet Chiba Taro, Sitri-sama’s newest servant, a Rook. Taro-kun, this is Saji Genshiro, a Pawn. He joined House Sitri only a couple of days ago, a little before you did, so you’ll be learning a great deal together about the world that’s just opened up to you. I hope you’ll become good friends and comrades.”

We exchanged polite bows, and I followed the vice-president, smiling to myself. Genshiro looked a little shell-shocked after our introduction. I could hardly blame him. An ordinary, perfectly normal morning—pardon the redundancy—and suddenly gloomy Chiba was his new teammate.

Sure, I wasn’t as well known at Kuoh Academy as the Perverted Trio, let alone the resident heartthrob, Kiba Yuuto, but my antisocial streak did make me stand out a little.

For all my reputation as a withdrawn introvert, a few local punks had taken some hard hits to the kidneys and faces after trying to impress the girls by picking on the quiet kid. The usual little shits who need to bully someone weaker to feel strong. Image or no image, I wasn’t about to let every piece of trash walk all over me.

The adjoining room held the president’s desk, a large table apparently used for council meetings, and several desks for the other members. Only one girl was there: a rather cute servant of House Sitri with white hair, sorting through some papers with a thoughtful expression.

“Good morning, Momo,” the vice-president said warmly, and the girl responded in kind. “Meet our newest member—Chiba Taro, a Rook. Taro-kun, this is Hanakai Momo. She’s a Bishop. She’s kind, sensible, and always happy to help. If you have any questions or run into trouble when I’m not around, don’t hesitate to ask her.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Taro-kun.” Momo gave me a small, friendly smile and bowed in greeting. “I hope we can be friends.”

“I’m sure we will, senpai.” I returned her bow, wondering how someone so beautiful, with such distinctive looks, had escaped my notice until now. “Please take good care of me.”

Then came a bit of paperwork to make me an official member of the student council’s disciplinary committee, under the supervision of Sona-san’s other Rook.

While we dealt with the bureaucratic formalities, Momo-san told us that our lady had gone to the Occult Research Club to meet with Rias-senpai and wouldn’t be back at the student council offices before classes started.

“Sitri-san seemed upset and preoccupied,” Momo told us. “She didn’t even have any tea. Speaking of which, Tsubaki-san, Taro-kun, would you like some? There’s still time…”

“I’d love some, Momo.” The vice-president nodded.

“Momo-san.” I stopped her as she headed for the electric kettle in the corner and pulled a small metal tin from my blazer pocket. “Allow me to treat you to a rather unusual tea.”

“We have the finest tea there is!” Shinra-san’s lips twitched in amusement. “You’ll have a hard time impressing anyone here.”

“Oooh.” I gave her an enigmatic smile in return. “Believe me, Tsubaki-san, you’ve never tried tea like this, and I doubt you’ll ever find it anywhere else.”

“Hmm, hmm. All right! Challenge accepted, Taro-kun! Momo, let’s taste it and deliver our verdict!” The vice-president’s mood had definitely improved, though you’d have been hard-pressed to notice. “Just remember, kohai: Momo and I take our tea very seriously, so don’t expect us to go easy on you!”

The tea was ready in no time, and we sat down at the meeting table to partake of this fine beverage. Well, I just wanted a cup of tea before class, while the girls were clearly looking forward to a laugh at my expense for being so full of myself. Tsubaki, who knew me a little better, apparently planned to take me down a peg, while Momo seemed more interested in smoothing things over. At least, she kept giving me sympathetic looks and shooting pleading glances at the vice-president.

“Mmm…” Shinra Tsubaki murmured thoughtfully. “Actually, this is quite good!”

Hanakai said nothing, but her eyes, half-closed in bliss, spoke for themselves. I just snorted softly into my cup, glancing at the Queen.

“All right, all right.” She adjusted her glasses. “I admit it. The tea’s wonderful. But you know what’s coming next, don’t you?”

“A thank-you?” I raised my right eyebrow, deadpan.

“Yes, Taro-kun, thank you so much!” Momo snapped out of her reverie. “Where did you get this amazing tea? The flavor is incredible. Bold, refreshing, with just the right amount of bite. And it perks you up after just a couple of sips! My morning coffee doesn’t wake me up this well!”

“An interrogation,” Tsubaki said, glancing sideways at Momo. “You’ve just served two devoted tea drinkers a brew they find more than acceptable. Hand over your supplier’s contact details.”

“Yes, yes!” Momo chimed in with a cute giggle. “Give us your dealer’s number!”

“My dear ladies.” I steepled my fingers and leaned forward over the table, hiding the lower half of my face behind my hands. I met each girl’s eyes in turn, perfectly serious. “Believe it or not, I produce it myself.”

“What do you mean?” The white-haired girl raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You have your own tea business?”

“Of course.” I kept a perfectly straight face. “The Chiba family owns extensive tea plantations… covering a few square meters of our yard. You might call us moderately big players in the industry.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tsubaki adjusted her glasses in disbelief. “You grow this wonderful stuff in your yard?”

“That’s right, Tsubaki-san.” I dropped the act and smiled at the girls before taking a sip of tea. “No chemicals. I grow it and process it myself. As for the variety… you could say I developed that myself too. You won’t find tea like this anywhere else. I only make it for us at home and for my grandfather. I suspect my father sneaks some out as gifts for his bosses, but to my shame, I’ve never managed to catch him in the act.”

“A man of many talents.” The vice-president shook her head. I couldn’t tell whether she meant it or was being subtly sarcastic. “You play sports, get top grades, grow tea, and beat up Fallen by night. I’m almost afraid to ask what other surprises you have in store.”

“I’m proficient with a wide range of melee, throwing, and ranged weapons, apart from modern ones. I can sew, make most of the weapons I use, and cook extremely well. I know a fair bit about medicine, exotic pharmacology, alchemy, and jewelry making. I play the guzheng, guqin, pipa…” I thought for a couple of seconds, then chuckled at the girls’ astonished faces. “Anyway, I have quite a few skills, and listing them all is starting to sound an awful lot like bragging. I’ll spare you my résumé, too. It would take up the entire table.”

“To be honest, Taro-kun, I find all that a little hard to believe,” Tsubaki said carefully. She clearly wanted to say something like “You’re full of it,” but good manners and her upbringing kept her in check.

“I don’t blame you in the slightest, but I can demonstrate everything except the cooking.” I hid another smile behind my teacup.

“Why not the cooking?” Momo asked before the vice-president could speak.

“I’ll only cook for my wife.”

“Starting out as a demon is just like being back in the good old sect,” I grumbled, heading for the nearest sporting goods store to buy a bike. “Doing all sorts of crap for nothing.”

No, these were definitely the wrong sort of demons. What self-respecting demon from a cultivation world would make his servant deliver advertising flyers? It’s tradition, you see. Everyone’s been through it, you see. Fine, they weren’t exactly advertising flyers, more like single-use summoning rituals activated by a strong desire, but still! Hello, I’m an ancient cultivator with God knows how many lifetimes behind me, a demon, a servant to the heiress of a Great House… and a delivery boy for plain old junk mail. Just what I’d always dreamed of (not really). Honestly, it was so absurd I wasn’t even angry. I just wanted to laugh my ass off. At least I’d only be stuck with this nonsense for a week.

My fellow demons are pretty much keeping up with the times, too. Sinister grimoires? Summoning rituals? Studying demonology? Fuck all that! They’ll drop a slip of paper in your mailbox. Make a wish on it, and if you want it badly enough, a demon will show up to sign a contract.

“Casuals everywhere! Everywhere!” I shook my head. “Just think about it! Casual Satanists! This is surreal!”

“Chiba-san!” Issei called from behind me.

“Oh, Issei-kun. How’s it going?” A quick look around confirmed that his buddies were nowhere nearby. “Off to deliver flyers too?”

“Yeah! I’m heading home for my bike, then I’ll come back, set up the GPS, grab the flyers, and get going.” He sighed. “I thought it would be something…”

“More exciting?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hyoudou scratched the back of his head. “Chiba-san, I never properly thanked you for yesterday. So much happened all at once, and this morning Matsuda…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Issei-kun.” I waved off his thanks. “I helped you out, that’s all. You can return the favor sometime, and we’ll be even. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. After all, Sitri-sama and Gremory-san are on good terms, from what I understand.”

“I guess. It blew my mind finding out we’ve got actual demons at our school! And it turns out I was killed by a Fallen Angel! The guy you beat up was a Fallen too! And the club president, Rias-senpai, is a demon! And the student council president, Sona-senpai…”

“Sitri-senpai,” I corrected him. This dimwit hadn’t earned the privilege of calling my lady by her given name. I did make a mental note that someone had apparently managed to kill him, though.

“Right, right! Sitri-senpai’s a demon too! And Koneko-chan, and Akeno-san, and that bastard Kiba! And the entire student council!!!”

“Issei-kun.” I sighed, already getting tired of his company. “Shouldn’t you be hurrying home to fetch your pedal-powered steed?”

“But I live that way,” he said innocently, waving a hand straight ahead. “Where are you headed?”

“To the store for a bike.” I sighed in resignation. Besides the cash Dad had given me that morning, I had my “junior” debit card. I hardly ever used it, so I’d saved up enough pocket money to buy a scooter. My folks were in for a surprise when they got the purchase notification for my new set of wheels. They’d definitely think I was planning to show off for the cute girl I liked.

After waving goodbye to Issei… Ise, right. He’d asked me to just call him Ise. I’d saved his life, after all, so that made me a real friend. Ah, well…

Anyway, once I’d waved goodbye to my new buddy—Leviathan-sama spare me another one like him—I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been chattering away… like Mom on the phone with a friend. Nonstop, raving about Rias-senpai and her “huuuge boobs” (each time, I bowed to passersby and apologized for my classmate). About Akeno-san, the ideal Japanese woman, whose breasts were smaller than the Occult Research Club president’s, of course, but still absolutely magnificent (another bow, another apology). About Koneko-chan, so petite and kawaii, but stern and quiet. Still, she was just—wow! Then came a crude remark about her body (this time I apologized and smacked him on the back of the head, because Koneko-chan was far too sweet for him to talk about her like that). As for Kiba-kun, though, Hyoudou kept it short and eloquent: “Asshole.”

But I endured it all. In the name of Sitri-sama, yes. And no, I hadn’t turned into some idiot drooling over her like a doggo eyeing a marrow bone. This was just… part of my “default settings.”

Who could a Great Man like me possibly serve? Only a Great Lady. I didn’t feel demeaned, because Sitri Sona was first in line to inherit a Great House. A princess, you might say. Her own older sister was Leviathan. One of the Satans—the Kings of the Underworld. Yes, I needed her House’s resources, and yes, I would serve in return. Serve faithfully and honorably. Besides, the others on the student council were very fond of our lady. In cultivation worlds, you often got hypocrisy along the lines of “The Great Senior Master puts the gods to shame with his wisdom!” when the master could hear, and “Lucky piece of trash, the fucking bastard” when he wasn’t around.

There was none of that here. Sitri-san herself was calm and courteous with us. She met each person’s gaze warmly, her beautiful eyes a little sad and tired. The girls responded in kind, speaking to her with genuine respect and readily taking on whatever tasks she gave them. I liked the atmosphere in our little clan.

And I liked the challenge. Yes, the challenge. Hmm… a test of sorts, perhaps? Pfft… Who was I kidding? Pride. The plain old pride of an ancient Practitioner. I cannot be a bad servant! I can’t do a bad job of anything I take on. I am the Best. And the woman I serve must be Great. Her House must be the Strongest. And so it shall be.

When I reach the highest ranks of the demon world, people will speak of me as the Greatest—a man who came from the Greatest House, where he served the Greatest Lady. And so it shall be.

My pride won’t let me bow to Sitri-sama and then badmouth her behind her back. Anyone who insults his Master out of mindless pride is trash. Because he doesn’t understand that by belittling his lord, he diminishes himself.

People here understand that. In Japan, I mean. Many people, my parents included, give their work everything they’ve got, with enthusiasm and faith in its value. They take pride in what they achieve together and in their own part in it. For instance, I’ve never once heard Dad badmouth his company or Mom complain about housework. After nearly twenty years with the company, Dad has become a respected man whose words carry weight. Mom wouldn’t even think of complaining: Dad and I both treat her with respect, and we’ve never taken all she does to keep our home running for granted. Her home is where she fights her endless battle, just as Dad wages his daily battles at work.

Yes, they’re ordinary people, but decent and proud. In their own way. Their pride has a touch of old Japan about it—the romantic image people have when they don’t know about… the less pleasant side of that era. Legendary loyalty unto death, brave warriors, the noblest and wisest of lords.

Yeah, yeah, of course—if I posted anything like that on a forum, it’d start a flame war. The experts would come crawling out of the woodwork. Foreign ones eager to open my eyes to the horrors of the nation I belong to in this life, and locals who, for some reason, hate their own country with all their hearts. I could explain a thousand times that I meant the romanticized image, but would people who can’t stop spewing bile at everyone around them give a damn?

Besides, it’s easy to draw parallels between feudal Japan and modern businesses. Employer–employee relations here are still… rather interesting. For all the advanced technology, this whole “loyalty to the corporation” thing still smacks of feudalism. Some employees spend their entire working lives at the same company. Then again… I’m used to that sort of thing. I’ve taken entire dynasties under my wing, and in my early lives I served sects or noble houses until the day I died. So, nothing out of the ordinary.

My idle musings vanished as the discomfort from the sun seemed to intensify. But that couldn’t be right. The sunset was painting the horizon orange, and the sensation was… hmm… something like spiritual pressure? Where was it coming from?

“No, it can’t be!” A man’s panicked voice caught my attention from about thirty meters away. I spotted a figure in a coat and a stylish hat… Well, if it wasn’t Black Rooster-san! And his mug was positively glowing with health, as if I hadn’t beaten it black and blue just yesterday.

Hmm… This was House Gremory’s territory, so throwing my weight around here wasn’t a good idea. Besides, there was an unwritten rule against starting fights unless an enemy set foot on the grounds of your headquarters. Issei could easily have avoided this guy’s attack by saying which House he belonged to. Sitri-sama had explained that he simply hadn’t known he’d been reincarnated, and the Fallen might have mistaken his confusion for the fear of an exile with no House to back him up. And there were too many people around… Hmm… But a little joke was fair game!

“ORA!” I called out to the bird in the stylish hat, beaming and waving as if greeting an old friend.

Heh… I hadn’t seen an “About-face!” executed that crisply or that quickly in ages. The Fallen beat a hasty retreat, and I strained my ears to catch his muttering: “He’s a demon now, too. Nooo, Raynare, you’re on your own. I’m out of here!” Interesting. Who was this Raynare guy? Or girl? Ah, never mind. One little act of spite, and I’d paid the world back for saddling me with that motormouth Issei. I felt better already.