Time lost all meaning amid despair and apathy. Ange felt like she’d been lying on her bed for a century—or maybe just ten minutes.
In the end, her survival instinct—or more precisely, her stomach’s empty protests—overpowered her mental slump.
She tried to sit up with a swift motion…but failed, only managing to prop herself up slowly and grab her phone for a quick glance.
It was nearly noon.
Time to eat. The thought jolted her numb brain into action.
She opened her phone’s app without thinking and, seeing numbers that looked “healthier” than ever before, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Thanks to the private job she’d taken Ingrid Beltans to on the black market, plus last night’s official Academy mission reward, she didn’t have to gnaw on hard bread at the end of the month anymore—in fact… she had plenty left over.
A thought sprang up. Maybe she could treat the students to a meal?
After all, the Special Operations Squad was officially established now. All that was missing was a team name.
Forced or not, some sort of gesture was in order.
But as soon as the idea surfaced, another powerful force from deep within Ange’s soul—her miserly instinct—immediately blared a warning.
I can treat them this time, but does that mean I’ll have to do it every time in the future? My wallet isn’t bottomless! None of these young ladies look like the type who’d ever split the bill!
Images of a future where she was eaten into poverty and left sipping cold air flashed through her mind. She shivered.
No, no, a token gesture will do. It can’t be too extravagant. Sustainability is key…
After a fierce mental struggle, thrifty (stingy) Teacher Ange made a compromise (miserly) decision: order takeout, pizza—large portions, filling, and relatively cheap.
And so, in Ange’s old dorm room, the Special Operations Squad’s “first meal” began in a rather shabby atmosphere.
A pizza box was spread open atop an old wooden desk barely serving as a table. Four women of distinctly different styles sat around it.
Huayin, raised on fine cuisine, looked hesitant. As for Ingrid Beltans, she seemed a little overwhelmed, almost flattered.
Only Sakika showed no hesitation. When Ange handed her a steaming slice of pizza, she calmly accepted it and quietly said, “Thank you, Teacher,” then started eating with small, rapid bites—like following a mechanical process.
For her, when someone treated her to a meal, she accepted—no need for extra emotions or questions.
Much like Ange, as someone with the Demon King’s Bloodline, she hardly had a concept of being poisoned.
But the reactions of the other two were far more complicated.
Ingrid and Huayin exchanged a glance, both seeing disbelief and deep suspicion in the other’s eyes.
Teacher Ange… treating us to food? Ingrid’s inner monologue began to play.
Did the sun rise in the west today? Or… is this her unique way of showing recognition and care? What should I do? If I act too happy, will it make me seem unsophisticated? But… this is the first time Teacher’s treated me to a meal!
A faint blush colored her face—both flattered and bewildered.
Huayin, meanwhile, frowned slightly, her red pupils full of vigilance.
This penny-pincher is actually shelling out? Something fishy must be going on! Is she trying to buy us off with cheap pizza so she can push us around during training?
Or… is she trying to get on good terms with her possible future wife ahead of time? Hmph, no way I’m ending up as this person’s partner.
She stared at the slice Ange offered, as if it were some suspicious poison, making no move to take it.
The atmosphere, like congealed pizza cheese, was cold and stiff.
Ange looked at her two troublesome students—one blushing as if she’d bleed, the other giving her a murderous glare—and just felt exhausted.
She sighed, knowing if no one broke the ice, they’d be eating cold pizza in an awkward silence.
She cleared her throat, deciding to use this chance to lay some cards on the table.
After all, if they were going to fight side by side, a basic understanding and trust was necessary, though she didn’t hold out much hope.
“Ahem, so… since we’ll be working together from now on, there are some things about me I think you should know.”
Ange’s voice broke the silence, drawing everyone’s attention. Even Sakika slowed her chewing, looking up with obsidian eyes.
She didn’t hold back, dropping a bombshell.
“I used to be the Number One Demon Hunter.”
Ingrid’s eyes instantly sparkled with admiration, practically screaming, “Drop the ‘used to’! Teacher, you still are!”
Huayin gave a soft snort, pursed her lips, but her gaze grew more complex.
Sakika tilted her head slightly, as if updating her database.
“I carry the bloodline of the Gluttony Demon Lord, Beelzebub,” she continued, her tone as calm as if she were commenting on the weather.
“That’s one source of my power. However, due to… well, a Curse, I can’t use my strength as freely as before, and I can’t personally fight on the front lines anymore.”
She glossed over the specifics of the magic seal, only emphasizing the result—honest, but with some reservations. She still had her pride.
Then, she looked at her three students.
“All right, that’s pretty much everything about me. What about you? I know some things already, but let’s do formal introductions since we’re a team now.”
Ingrid and Huayin exchanged a glance, then formally introduced themselves again.
Ingrid recited her standard Beltans family, Behemoth bloodline, and teacher-admiring spiel.
Huayin kept it brief: Huayin Phoenix, Phoenix bloodline.
Her tone held its usual pride, but her gaze flickered subtly when mentioning her family.
At last, all eyes turned to Sakika.
The quiet, black-haired girl put down her half-eaten pizza, carefully wiped her mouth with a napkin, then looked up and spoke in a flat, report-like tone:
“Sakika. I’m an orphan.”
Ange: “…Ah?”
That opening was so blunt and heavy, combined with her science-student face, it created a strange sense of disconnect.
Ange didn’t know how to react—sympathy? The mood wasn’t right. Comfort? The other party clearly didn’t need it.
Sakika seemed utterly unfazed, continuing calmly.
“My parents were killed by Demons before I was born. I became a Demon Hunter for one reason only.”
As she said this, a flash of icy sharpness swept through her usually emotionless eyes.
“To get revenge.”
Only when she said those two words did her face show the faintest hint of emotion.
Ange’s heart stirred. She hadn’t expected the calmest, most indifferent-seeming girl to carry such a past.
It reminded her of herself—once consumed by the flames of vengeance, a near-mad hunting machine.
Still, the good news was Sakika didn’t seem wholly consumed by hatred; at least, she was far more composed than Ange had been.
Sakika paused, then added one last line, her tone returning to its usual flatness.
“And also to find someone I could rely on. Because of the Greed Demon King’s bloodline, I’ve had my share of trouble. That’s the other reason I came to the Academy.”
She looked at Ange and nodded.
“I’m done introducing myself.”
The room fell into brief silence again. The smell of pizza lingered, but the mood had changed—a simple lunch, an impromptu team-building.
Ange looked at her three students, each with different identities, personalities, and goals, and rubbed her brow.
A naive, golden-haired girl; a stoic orphan bent on revenge; and a red-haired young lady who might be forced to be her wife in the future…
Just what kind of godly team had she ended up with…