Osaka! The Church of Light!
Arata suddenly realized. When the ramen shop owner had mentioned the devil told him to go to a "church," he had emphasized the character for "Big" . Arata had assumed it was part of the church's name, leading them on a wild goose chase to the Tokyo St. Mary's Cathedral , which resulted in nothing.
Now he understood: the "Big" didn't refer to the church's name, but to the location—Osaka. Combined with the man's desperate insistence that his wife was controlled by a devil and refused to leave the "Church of Light," the pieces clicked. The devil responsible for the Apple Case was almost certainly hiding in the Church of Light in Osaka.
Arata began preparing for a decisive battle. This devil was likely troublesome; after all, a single slice of its flesh could turn a weak Coriander Devil into a genuine threat.
"Let's go. We're heading to the church in Osaka."
"Really?! You agree?!" The man wiped a mess of snot and tears from his face, looking up at Arata with hope.
"Master, are we really going to Osaka to save a man's wife? Makima-san might not be happy if she finds out we're heading out on our own."
"Don't worry about Makima. She's in no mood to deal with us right now."
"Let's eat first. The Great Me can't walk without food!" Power interjected.
"No time to waste. We need to leave now."
Arata walked out of the cafe, Denji trailing behind.
"Denji-kun, wait! Take this." Reze shoved a bag of toast into his hands—his favorite.
"The Great Me wants it!" Power lunged, but Denji was faster.
"Don't worry, I have another one. Eat up, don't fight on an empty stomach."
"Thanks, Reze. Apart from my Master, no one has ever given me food before." Both Denji and Reze flushed red.
"Hey! Move it! What are you two doing in there?" Arata shouted from the street. Denji scrambled out, clutching his toast. "Reze, we're off! When we get back, I'll help you clean up the cafe!"
The man hailed a taxi, frantic to get home. "I'll pay! Just get me to Osaka!"
"Forget it, take my car." Arata hopped into the Mercedes parked out front. It had been lucky enough to miss the chaos at the cafe.
"Thank you. Once we save my wife, I'll give you a generous commission." The man sat in the passenger seat, his face gaunt with anxiety.
"Don't bother. I only kill, I don't rescue. If your wife attacks us, I'm putting her down."
"What!!" The man went pale. "But if you kill the devil, she'll be fine, right?"
"Usually, yes. But your wife is controlled by a devil. She will attack us, and we can't hold back during a fight. This devil is stronger than anything we've faced before. If your wife is being used as a vessel, she's likely useless to us—the last man who became an apostle was killed by us."
"It's fine. I'll deal with my wife myself. If she's truly beyond saving, I'd rather you kill her than let her remain a puppet."
"Good. You're a rational man."
Arata drove to Tokyo Station and caught a Shinkansen. Less than an hour later, they arrived in Osaka and took a taxi to the Ibaraki residential district. Upon arrival, the man pointed to the distance: "There! The Church of Light. My wife is inside."
"Looks closed."
"It hasn't been open to the public for a long time."
"Then how do you know she's in there?"
"She's been standing outside for weeks. She told me it was hosting a 'private church' service by invitation only. People stopped coming here and went to Tokyo or elsewhere. I'm not religious, but I was desperate, so I went to the St. Mary's Cathedral in Tokyo, hoping to find answers. That's where I saw you—but by the time I caught up, you were already gone."
"So, you were the one staring at me in St. Mary's?"
"Yes. You noticed?"
"I did, but I didn't care once I confirmed you weren't a devil."
They reached the gates. Locked tight. Arata caught Denji's eye, and in a flash, Chainsaw Man tore the doors off their hinges.
As they entered, the scene inside left the husband paralyzed. He fell to his knees and began to retch uncontrollably. The 113-square-meter church, usually meant for a hundred worshipers, was occupied by over a hundred headless, upside-down skeletons. Their ankles were bound to a metal pipe running across the walls, hanging like rows of pork in a meat locker.
A woman in white stood beneath the ghastly display.
"Ugh~~"
"That woman... is that your wife?" Arata asked.
The man retched again, forcing himself to look up. "Yes... ugh... that's my wife."
"Mitsuo, why did you come back? I told you I'm not coming home." The woman smiled, completely unfazed by the intruders.
"Ryoko! Don't be stubborn! I brought the strongest devil hunters this time!" The man screamed, ignoring the bile dripping from his chin.
The woman didn't change her expression; she just studied Arata and the others with cold curiosity. "Did you bring food for the Lord this time? You're in the wrong place, though. The Lord's cafeteria isn't here; this is just the morgue. And I am the guardian."
"Master, should we attack?" Denji asked, chainsaws whirring.
"Not yet. She isn't the mastermind." Arata held back, instead asking, "Where is the Lord's cafeteria?"
"Why would I tell you? Unless you want to be offered as food to the Lord." The woman let out a shrill laugh.
"Ryoko, stop it! Come home, or you'll be killed!" The husband surged forward, but Power caught him by the collar and hauled him back.
"This is my home. I'm not going anywhere. Now, it's time to eat."
She pulled an apple from her pocket and bit into it. Her body began to warp and twist.
"No! Please, spare her!" The husband begged, kneeling by Arata's side.
Arata didn't even glance at him. He unsheathed his blade-claws. "Get out. It's interrogation time, and your wife is already a dead woman walking."
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