Anime Crossover: Eating Evil in a Daily World — Chapter 104

Chapter 104: The New Member Candidate and the Evil Spirit Converter

Mai became vigilant.

Rio frowned slightly.

Miko let out a soft, exhausted sigh.

Meanwhile, the great Yui was happily enjoying her delicious bento, completely oblivious to the shifting atmosphere in the room.

“Hey, Yozora!”

Marin spotted Yozora sitting by the activity room window. She waved cheerfully and practically skipped inside, her pretty face lit up with a bright smile. “I promised to discuss cosplay with you guys, so I inhaled a rice ball and rushed right over.”

“Take a seat.”

Yozora finally looked up from his desk. As Marin sat down, he suddenly reached his hand toward her face.

“You’ve got something right there.”

Before Marin could even register the movement, Yozora casually picked a stray grain of rice from the corner of her mouth.

Rio’s expression instantly warped into a mask of horror. She shot up from her chair. “Hey, don’t you dare—”

Yozora calmly pulled a tissue from the box with his left hand and wiped the grain of rice off his right index finger. He tossed the crumpled tissue into the trash, then looked at Rio with genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

Rio opened her mouth, her voice dropping into a quiet, disturbed mumble. “I thought… you were actually going to eat that.”

“Do I look like a human trash disposal unit to you?” Yozora rolled his eyes, utterly failing to find the logic in her panic. “Why would I do something that gross?”

Beside him, a faint blush dusted Marin’s cheeks. It was entirely unclear whether she was embarrassed about having food stuck to her face, or flustered by the fact that Yozora had just casually touched her lips to remove it.

Sensing the incredibly subtle tension suffocating the activity room, Rio cleared her throat twice and forcefully pivoted the conversation.

“You’re… Kitagawa, right? I’m Futaba from Class 1-D. Nice to meet you.”

Marin’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Oh, so you’re Futaba! I finally get to meet you in person.”

Rio blinked, adjusting her glasses. “Am I famous or something?”

“Not exactly.” Marin waved her hand with a breezy laugh. “It’s just that Hana mentioned in class that your Supernatural Quantum Mechanics Investigation and Research Club isn’t nearly as weird as the rumors say. She told me the members are actually super friendly and really good people.”

The ‘Hana’ she referred to was, naturally, her classmate Hana. Given Hana’s innocent, gentle, and overwhelmingly kind personality, it made perfect sense. After the Supernatural Society had saved her life, she absolutely wouldn’t tolerate anyone badmouthing them as a bunch of creepy weirdos.

“I see.” Rio nodded noncommittally. She cast a brief, calculating glance at Yozora by the window, then turned her attention back to the smiling blonde girl in front of her. Gritting her teeth, Rio finally made up her mind and cut straight to the chase.

“Kitagawa.”

“What’s up, Futaba?”

Rio’s cheeks burned red. She lightly bit her lower lip, her usual cool composure cracking. “My chest is too big. If I want to cosplay, is there any actual way to hide this problem?”

“Ah… oh. Oh!”

Marin clearly hadn’t expected their very first cosplay consultation to start with such an explosive topic. She quickly recovered, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “Oh, Futaba, you don’t need to be embarrassed about that at all! This is a super common issue for a lot of cosplayers. There’s nothing to feel awkward about.”

Marin eyed the oversized white lab coat Rio always wore. “Why don’t you take off the coat first? We can figure out the measurements. This shouldn’t be too hard to fix…”

Before Marin could even finish her sentence, Rio had already slipped the lab coat off her shoulders.

It was as if a heavy, restrictive seal had just been broken.

Marin’s mouth fell slightly agape. She stared, utterly shell-shocked.

Holy crap.

Compared to Hana, she was certainly no less impressive. The problem… was definitely a bit too big.

After a long moment of stunned silence, Marin finally snapped back to reality and waved her hands frantically. “A-Actually, it’s totally fine! I’ve seen tutorials online that can completely bind and conceal it, no matter how big they are!”

“Online?” Rio’s brows furrowed slightly.

Marin suddenly looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. “Actually… I haven’t officially done any cosplay yet. I’ve only researched the theory online…”

Her voice grew quieter with every word. The shame was suffocating. She had walked in here acting like a seasoned veteran ready to talk shop, yet faced with Rio’s very first practical question, she couldn’t offer a concrete solution. It was a massive letdown.

Unable to accept this defeat, Marin suddenly shot up from her chair. She clenched her fists and looked Rio dead in the eye.

“Futaba, don’t worry! I’m going to go home and research this thoroughly. Next time… no, tomorrow! When I come back tomorrow, I’ll bring the right tools and I will absolutely solve this problem for you!”

With that fiery declaration, Marin spun on her heel and sprinted out of the activity room.

Watching her retreating back, Rio shook her head with a helpless sigh, though the corners of her lips couldn’t help but curve upward.

This Kitagawa Marin really was a good person. Unlike most girls at school, she hadn’t made any snide, passive-aggressive remarks about Rio’s overly developed figure. She genuinely just wanted to help.

Assessment complete. The new assistant was approved.

Once the energetic outsider was long gone, Yozora dragged his chair over to the central table. Seeing the rest of the girls enjoying the lunch Mai had prepared, he finally popped the lid off his own bento box. There was no cutesy heart-shaped ketchup pattern today—just an ordinary, nutritionally balanced, and highly appetizing meal.

“Eat up while I talk,” Yozora instructed, picking up a cherry tomato with his chopsticks. He popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly. “How often are the ‘Gates’ appearing these days?”

Miko, acting as the club’s chief investigator, immediately answered. “According to the intel Tamamo-no-Mae gave us, and the data Rio and I have been tracking, the Gates in Kyoto are opening about once every week to ten days now. The overall danger level is steadily dropping, too.”

Yui smiled sweetly around a mouthful of rice. “That means we get more days off! We can go shopping together way more often.”

“Don’t get comfortable just yet,” Yozora warned, his tone flat. “The frequency of the Gates might be dropping, but nobody knows what other twisted garbage is going to bleed into this world next. We can’t afford to slack off on improving our combat strength.”

He paused, his dark eyes sweeping over the four girls at the table, briefly lingering on Hachishaku-sama, who was currently huddled in the corner of the room, blankly playing with her own fingers as an unofficial mascot.

“First order of business… can we find a reliable supplier for firearm parts?”

Rio’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Build some guns. I don’t need them myself, obviously, but I want to leave a few with you girls for self-defense.”

“Guns?” Rio stared at him like he had lost his mind. “Leaving aside the massive legal risk of carrying them around, none of us even know how to assemble a firearm.”

Yozora offered a dry, arrogant smirk. “I didn’t know how before. But I do now.”

Rio, Yui, Miko, and Mai all stared at him in absolute, deadpan silence.

What else was there to say? The guy was a walking cheat code.

Rio pressed her fingers to her temples, calculating the variables. “Even if we only buy individual parts, the regulations are incredibly strict. Assuming we could even find a black-market supplier, we have no way of knowing if the channel is trustworthy. Drawing the attention of the Metropolitan Police Department just to build a couple of handguns for self-defense is a terrible risk-to-reward ratio.”

“Fair enough. We’ll shelve that idea for now.” Yozora nodded, easily dropping the subject. “Rio, Miko. Which one of you is free after school today? I need a hand with something. Just one of you is fine.”

The two girls exchanged a look. Rio pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I need to compile the data I gathered over Spring Break, and I have to hit the library to cross-reference some quantum mechanics theories. Miko can go.”

“Alright. It’s settled.”

At that moment, Rio had absolutely no idea what she had just casually passed up.

“Moving on to the final issue,” Yozora said, tapping his chopsticks against his bento box. “We need new active members. Not external support like Marin or Oda, but internal members who actually possess the power to fight Evil Spirits.”

The room fell silent. It was a heavy question, and none of them had an easy answer.

If you excluded Mai and Yui—who were entirely ordinary humans—the only members with actual combat capabilities against the supernatural were Yozora, Miko, and Rio.

The glaring issue was the sheer, astronomical gap in their power levels.

Yozora was an anomaly. He was so disgustingly overpowered that, to date, he hadn’t encountered a single Evil Spirit capable of scratching him, let alone forcing him to use his full strength.

Miko and Rio, however, were roughly on the same tier. If they teamed up, they could theoretically clear an S-rank Gate, but the risk of death was high. Worse, if Yozora wasn’t physically with them, they couldn’t safely handle the Inner World to let their summoned spirits—Hyakume and Hone-Onna—devour enemies and level up.

If they couldn’t grind levels, they wouldn’t get stronger. If they didn’t get stronger, they were entirely dependent on Yozora’s schedule to enter the Inner World, bottlenecking their entire progression. It was a frustrating catch-22.

Miko rested her chin in her hands, letting out a long, helpless sigh. “You’re right, but finding someone who fits the bill is nearly impossible. They have to be trustworthy, they have to know our secret, and they actually have to possess psychic power.”

It was a statistical nightmare. Aside from Yozora and Miko who founded the club, the rest had joined through sheer coincidence. Rio had been recruited for her analytical brain and took half a month to even see the truth. Mai and Yui had been victims of supernatural phenomena themselves.

If they looked at their current pool of acquaintances, only two people knew the truth and could be trusted to keep their mouths shut: Kazusa and Hana. Both had been saved by the club and had proven their loyalty through absolute silence.

The problem? They were perfectly normal girls. They couldn’t fight.

“I was waiting for you to say that.”

Yozora leaned back in his chair, a confident, predatory grin spreading across his face. He tapped his index finger rhythmically against the table. “Actually, I’ve already done the background checks. I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

He paused, his gaze shifting directly to Miko and Yui. “And both of you have already met her.”

“We have?” Yui blinked, her brow furrowing in deep concentration. Miko looked equally lost. They racked their brains, trying to recall any girl they had crossed paths with who might secretly be a Psychic, but came up entirely empty.

This was the unfair advantage of being a transmigrator.

Yozora didn’t just know the girls sitting in front of him; he had a foundational understanding of the core cast of this world. Personalities established by the plot rarely deviated. It was true for Light Yagami, and it was true for her. It was a completely unilateral flow of information.

Yozora stood up and walked over to the window. He stared out at the gray sky, watching the drizzling rain slowly begin to intensify against the glass.

“It’s been raining a lot in Kyoto lately,” he murmured, his tone heavy with meaning.

Later that night. Yozora’s apartment.

Miko sat rigidly on the edge of the plush sofa, her fingers tightly gripping a steaming cup of hot tea. The ceramic warmth seeped into her palms, but it did nothing to chase away the strange, fluttering nervousness twisting in her chest.

She vividly remembered the last time she had been alone in Yozora’s apartment. It was the night she had narrowly escaped the horrors of that abandoned, unfinished building.

It had been raining that night, too. Just like tonight.

She had even used his shower. That was the night she learned exactly what kind of person he was—a man who boldly declared that a gentleman always keeps his word, which, in his twisted logic, meant he absolutely would peek if he promised to.

So, what exactly did he want to discuss in private tonight?

While Miko was drowning in her own paranoid thoughts, Yozora walked into the living room holding a cold can of Coca-Cola. He sat down on the armchair directly across from her, popping the tab with a sharp hiss.

Silence stretched between them for several agonizing seconds.

Miko finally snapped out of her daze. “A-Ah, right. What did you want to talk about?”

Yozora’s expression was unusually serious. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “How exactly does a Psychic make their Soul Manifestation—and their own physical body—stronger?”

Miko blinked, confused by the basic question. “By devouring other Evil Spirits. You already know that. You’re the one who taught us how to do it.”

Yozora took a sip of his soda, his eyes never leaving hers. “Right. But how does the Psychic themselves get stronger?”

Miko bit her lower lip. Her golden eyes dimmed slightly, her gaze dropping to the rippling surface of her tea. “Through grueling training and accumulating combat experience… I guess. After all, Rio and I don’t have your freakish ability to just eat Evil Spirits and absorb their raw stats.”

It was the harsh, limiting reality of being a Psychic. Even if their summoned Soul Manifestations grew into terrifying monsters, their actual human bodies remained fragile. Against high-tier Evil Spirits that could scale sheer walls and crush concrete with their bare hands, a human body was nothing but a liability.

“So,” Yozora continued, his voice dropping an octave. “What would happen to a normal Psychic if they tried to forcefully devour an Evil Spirit?”

Miko shuddered. “They would die. Instantly.”

“Exactly.” Yozora nodded. “Evil Spirits and humans are fundamentally incompatible existences. Trying to forcefully merge the toxic aura of a curse with a fragile human body is just a messy way to commit suicide.”

He paused, letting the silence hang heavy in the dim room before shifting the premise entirely.

“But… what if there was a converter? Something that could filter and purify the toxic power of an Evil Spirit, transforming it into a clean energy source that a human body could safely consume and absorb? Wouldn’t that change the rules entirely?”

Miko frowned, her mind racing as she processed the theory.

It actually made a twisted sort of sense. If a ‘converter’ existed, it would act like a supernatural juicer. It would take the lethal, unabsorbable miasma of an Evil Spirit and process it into a safe, digestible format. If they had something like that, their physical limitations would vanish.

“That sounds amazing,” Miko admitted, looking up. “But where on earth are we supposed to find a converter like—”

She froze mid-sentence. Her golden eyes widened as the realization hit her like a freight train.

Where was she supposed to find one?

Wasn’t the ultimate, perfect converter sitting right across from her, casually sipping a Coke?

Yozora had devoured thousands of terrifying Evil Spirits, yet he remained entirely human. His body was already doing exactly what he just described.

But wait.

Even if he could convert the energy… how exactly was she supposed to absorb it from him?

Was she supposed to… eat him?

Miko’s mind flashed back to the horrific imagery of ignorant Evil Spirits trying to take a bite out of Yozora, only to violently explode into ash or writhe on the ground in agonizing torment. A cold shiver violently violently ripped down her spine.

Did she have a death wish? Absolutely not. More, she had zero desire to cannibalize her club president.

Watching the sheer terror rapidly pale Miko’s face, Yozora let out a dry sigh. “You’re not actually thinking about taking a bite out of me, are you? Because that really would be suicide.”

“O-Obviously eating you directly is impossible!” Miko stammered, her grip tightening on her teacup. “But what if… you know what I mean? Maybe there’s another way to transfer it.”

Yozora raised an eyebrow, his tone turning cryptic. “What if what?”

“Don’t you get it?” Miko asked, trying to sound analytical.

Yozora sighed again, his expression turning deeply solemn as he spoke at a painfully slow, deliberate pace. “If it’s transferred as a liquid… then perhaps it’s feasible.”

“Liquid…” Miko murmured, her brow furrowing in deep thought. “Are you talking about… blood?”

“Hmm… if that’s where your mind goes, sure. But blood isn’t the only liquid.”

“Then what else could it—”

Miko’s voice died in her throat.

Her brain short-circuited. The gears clicked into place, and the sheer, unadulterated reality of what he was implying crashed down on her pure, innocent soul.

That kind of liquid?!

“Cough! Cough, cough!”

Miko nearly dropped her tea. Her cheeks instantly ignited into a furious, burning crimson. Her heart hammered against her ribs so violently she thought it might crack her sternum, but she desperately tried to maintain her serious, academic facade.

“U-Um… drinking blood isn’t very sanitary anyway! And it would be bad for your health to lose blood. If there’s… another method… we should probably explore that instead.”

Yozora frowned, genuinely disappointed by her reaction.

This wasn’t right at all. Miko was supposed to be a pure, easily flustered girl who had never even held hands with a boy. Why was she trying to rationalize this? Shouldn’t she be crying from embarrassment and calling him a degenerate?

Yozora leaned forward, staring directly into Miko’s panicked, wavering golden eyes.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘another method’?”

“I mean exactly what you mean!” Miko squeaked, refusing to break eye contact.

“Alright. Let’s say it out loud at the exact same time, just to be sure we’re on the same page.”

“F-Fine.”

“Three. Two. One…”

Miko squeezed her eyes shut. “A k-kiss!”

Yozora stared at her deadpan. “An injection.”

The silence that followed was deafening. It was a heavy, suffocating quiet that practically sucked the oxygen out of the room.

After a long, agonizing moment, Yozora slowly leaned back into his chair and took another sip of his soda.

“Never mind then.”