The Sixth Demon King

"Kiyotaka, what's that file you sent to the Line group?"

Karuizawa asked.

"It's the Bonfire Tale plan Hirata put together. He hopes everyone in Class D will take a look."

"Sōka, sōka."

Karuizawa looked forward to the bonfire party, feeling as if it would become one of her fondest memories.

Time slipped by, and before they knew it, noon on the sixth day had arrived. Everyone in Class D gathered at the campsite to prepare for the bonfire party.

"Glow sticks ready, folding chairs ready, drinks ready, ingredients ready, camera ready, decorative lights ready, board games ready, speakers ready, fire extinguishers ready..."

"Yōshi, all set!"

After checking that they had everything they needed for the party, Kushida declared victory.

Sudo had wound strings of LED lights around high branches and tents, creating a festive atmosphere. The sixth day was not only the last day of the year, but also the last day of the Special Exam. Two happy occasions combined to make an even happier one.

"Suzune, would you—would you dance with me?"

Sudo practiced the words over and over, talking to the air.

A few small ground lights had been placed here and there to illuminate the path leading to the bonfire area.

The lights had retro-style iron shades, with warm yellow light shining diagonally through them and casting elegant patterns across the ground to guide people along the path.

A few small decorative lamps had been cleverly arranged on the tables and around the food and drink corner. Accented with wood, stones, and dried branches, they blended perfectly with nature.

Several chefs were being briskly directed in the kitchen by a would-be Michelin-starred French restaurant head chef—Jean Chang Shui Jacques Jing, wearing his chef's hat.

"What is this? Nene, what the hell is this?! Is this the steak you're serving the guests? Is it even beef? Is it even cooked?!"

"Chef, I'm sorry! I forgot to set the timer..."

Nene bowed at a forty-five-degree angle and apologized earnestly. Chang Shui had insisted that everyone in the kitchen call him Chef to make the role-play more immersive.

"You forgot to set the timer?! Do you think this is a fast-food joint? The guests are here to eat art, not your mistakes! Make it again! Now! And remember to use salt! Don't make me taste another steak as dry as cardboard!"

"Yes, Chef!"

Chang Shui didn't let personal feelings get in the way of his standards.

"Chef, I've got a perfectly seared salmon with lemon cream sauce. What do you think?"

Matsushita carried her creation over to the chef with both hands.

"Finally, someone who knows what they're doing! (Takes a bite.) The sauce needs more acidity. Add some lemon and try again. Don't get too pleased with yourself—you're still a long way from perfect!"

Chang Shui didn't relax his standards just because the dish was passable. Today, he was Gordon Ramsay, and no one would escape his abuse.

"Good! Now, get moving! Remember, if you can't survive in this Hell's Kitchen, it's because you're not good enough to be here!"

"Yes, Chef!"

The student chefs didn't know where Hell's Kitchen was, but judging by the name, it didn't sound like a nice place.

Busy hours always flew by. The last glow of sunset gradually faded behind the distant mountains, and a cool breeze carrying the chill of the winter solstice swept gently through the camp.

The bonfire in the middle of the campsite crackled, its dancing flames bathing everyone's faces in a warm glow.

The starry sky stretched overhead like a deep-blue velvet curtain, dotted with countless stars, as if draping the bonfire party in a romantic haze.

The young people were filled with excitement and joy. Who didn't dream of spending a memorable and fulfilling holiday?

"Phew, it's finally lit!"

Ike, a short-haired boy, wiped the sweat from his forehead and tossed the last log onto the fire. Even though bonfires were usually easy to light, his nervousness had made his movements clumsy.

"Without me, this bonfire party would've been a bust!"

"You're proud of yourself just because you lit a fire? Boys are so childish."

Shinohara Satsuki said.

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Ike looked at Shinohara in confusion. An hour earlier, she had suddenly said to him, "Hey, Ike. You probably don't have a girl to go with at the bonfire party, right? I feel bad seeing you all alone, so I'll keep you company tonight. Don't get the wrong idea—I don't mean anything by it."

Their relationship hadn't seemed particularly good, yet she'd suddenly turned things around. Ike just couldn't make sense of it.

"Shinohara, about that bonfire dance... Should we maybe—"

"Ah, I still have something to do with the girls. I'm off!"

Shinohara cut Ike off and hurried away.

"Yōshi, now that the bonfire's lit, let's get started. Tonight, I'll perform a song for everyone—Bonfire Tale."

Hirata began organizing everyone into their seats.

The speakers came on, and the guitar began to play, its melody leisurely and lilting. The flames swayed gently to the rhythm, as if they were dancing too.

A few people sitting around the bonfire began to hum along. Their pitch varied, but their genuine happiness blended into the night air.

"Hey, Meili. Your grilled vegetables are about to burn!"

A classmate suddenly called out. Meili had been staring distractedly at Hirata, who stood beside the fire.

"Huh? They're burning?"

The girl named Wang Meili hurriedly pulled the stick away from the fire. When she looked down, she saw that most of the vegetables' surfaces had already turned black.

She sighed.

"Aw, I wanted to make them perfect..."

She sounded a little annoyed.

"I think they're pretty good like this. They've got character."

Hirata came over to reassure her, a warm smile on his face.

The fire grew weaker, and the guitar music and laughter gradually mingled with the nighttime chirping of insects and the sound of the wind.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and every face wore a satisfied smile.

Even when the bonfire went out tomorrow and they returned to their daily lives, the warmth and happiness of this party would remain a precious chapter in their memories.

Meanwhile, Chang Shui silently admired the edible works of art on the table, each one an original dish blending his personal aesthetic with the beauty of nature.

"Hey, Chang Shui. The outpost to the east is about to refresh. Want to go check in?"

Ayanokoji came over and invited Chang Shui to go with him.

"Oh, it's you, Ayanokoji. What's up? Scared to be alone at night?"

"Not really. I remembered you spent all afternoon working in the kitchen, but you didn't get any points for it. That doesn't seem fair to a teammate."

"Oh, that's rare—showing concern for someone, Ayanokoji. Let's go, then."

Chang Shui and Ayanokoji walked side by side toward the outpost to the east. The school had deliberately placed the outposts in areas with difficult terrain to keep students from lazing around at the campsite.

The moon hung high in the sky, its cool light blanketing the land. Moonlight fell across their clothes like a veil, reflecting a silvery sheen.

After they had walked for a while, the sound of their footsteps faded, and Ayanokoji stopped without warning and looked at Chang Shui.

"Chang Shui Jing."

Ayanokoji suddenly called out from behind him.

"What is it, Ayanokoji? Why are you suddenly calling me by my full name?"

A bad feeling suddenly rose in Chang Shui. He'd checked his phone before setting out, and there was still plenty of time before 11:00 p.m., so Ayanokoji's behavior struck him as strange.

When he turned around, Chang Shui's pupils shrank to pinpricks. Ayanokoji's finger was hovering over the Devour option.

Under the moonlight, the two red characters for Devour were stamped over the image of the Hannya Demon. One light press, and the demon would tear into the person who trusted him, spraying blood everywhere. The school's sadistic sense of humor was impossible not to admire.

"Sayonara. (Goodbye)"