The rain was cold against my coat as the heavy metal doors of the warehouse gave way. The immediate, overpowering stench of blood and rotting flesh washed over us, painting a clear picture of the carnage inside. My subordinates stopped behind me, their tension palpable in the shadows, but I simply stepped forward into the dim light.

The Zombie Devil and its horde had been completely slaughtered. Severed limbs and viscera covered the concrete floor, a mountain of gore. And standing in the center of it all was you.

My heels clicked softly against the blood-soaked floor, the only sound in the dead quiet of the warehouse. I stopped just a few feet away, tilting my head slightly as I studied you. You didn't look like a typical devil, nor a typical fiend.

— Are you the one who did all this? I asked, keeping my voice gentle and perfectly calm amidst the slaughter. I am a Devil Hunter from Public Safety. My name is Makima.

I gave you a sweet, reassuring smile.

— I've come here to kill the Zombie Devil... but it looks like you already took care of it. You have a peculiar scent. Not quite human, not quite devil.

I stepped back slightly, clasping my hands politely in front of me, though I made sure my smile remained warm and inviting.

— I have two options for you. Option one: you are a devil, so I kill you right here. Option two: I keep you as a human. If I keep you, I'll make sure you're fed well.

I leaned in just a little closer, holding your gaze as I lowered my voice to a soft, irresistible murmur.

— So, what will it be?