That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

Fweeeet!

The sharp, piercing trill of a wolf-whistle cut through the cool night air of the Kuoh Academy courtyard.

”My, my. You certainly are popular tonight, Finn.”

Azazel strolled up the paved walkway, the crisp rustle of his dark coat echoing in the quiet courtyard. He was accompanied by the stoic, towering figure of Baraqiel, but Azazel’s face was plastered with a knowing, highly amused smirk as he watched the scene unfolding by the school entrance.

”Don’t tease him like that, Azazel,” Sirzechs Lucifer sighed helplessly, walking beside the Fallen Angel Governor.

Inwardly, however, Sirzechs was profoundly surprised by exactly how close Finn and Serafall had become. Hadn’t she literally marched to his shrine just yesterday with the full intent of fighting him? And now, they were practically glued together?

It was astonishing. But when Sirzechs had heard the classified report detailing how effortlessly Finn had defeated the Leviathan, he suddenly understood Serafall’s radical shift in mood. Frankly, Sirzechs fully supported his old friend. Serafall had been completely single for centuries, chained by her own impossible standards. If there was finally a man capable of taming her—and ideally, impregnating her—it would be a massive, glorious victory for the future of the Devil race.

After all, pure-blooded Devils were teetering on the edge of extinction. Adding an obscenely powerful bloodline to their ranks was a political and biological necessity.

Yet, as Sirzechs observed Finn’s perfectly calm, calculating demeanor, a sliver of genuine apprehension pierced his thoughts.

While having Finn as an ally was the ultimate reassurance, connecting with him on an emotional level felt incredibly difficult. Finn was perfectly, ruthlessly logical. He never acted out of blind passion or irrational pride. Sirzechs feared that under Finn’s absolute, rational control, the chaotic, beautiful diversity of Devil society might revert to a cold, sterile era where everything was calculated and strictly managed.

Unlike the current Red Dragon Emperor, Issei Hyoudou—whose entire thought process was laughably predictable, consisting entirely of a desperate desire for a harem—what exactly did Finn Balam truly wish for?

It was a terrifying mystery. But Sirzechs knew one undeniable truth: the more emotional connections and family ties Finn built, the safer the world became. A man with a beloved family had something precious to protect, and he wouldn’t carelessly destroy the world if it meant putting his wives in danger.

Azazel, despite his goofy, laid-back exterior, was thinking along the exact same lines.

The Governor of the Grigori was notoriously pragmatic. He had literally bowed his head and handed the absolute future of the Fallen Angels over to Finn, agreeing that Finn and Akeno’s future child would govern their faction. Yet, it was still far too early for them to produce an heir, and Azazel remained deeply wary of how casually and effortlessly Finn could slaughter his enemies.

What is actually going on inside that kid’s head? Azazel thought, sweating slightly.

If Finn could read their minds, he would have rolled his eyes so hard it would hurt. His ultimate wish was incredibly simple: a lazy, peaceful life where no one bothered him. But in the chaotic, battle-crazed universe of High School DxD, was such a thing even possible?

”Finn-kun.”

Michael stepped forward, his twelve golden wings neatly folded behind his back. The Archangel was far more optimistic than the Devils or Fallen Angels. He trusted Finn.

Why? Because unlike the older, deeply prejudiced generations of the supernatural world, Finn judged individuals, not races. He had powerful allies across various mythologies. More importantly, Michael saw exactly how tenderly Finn cared for his lovers. Seeing Asia and Xenovia glowing with happiness, and knowing Irina had securely returned to the Church as a bridge between Heaven and Finn, Michael knew Finn’s philosophy was simple: Treat him well, and he will treat you well in return.

”Michael-san. Sirzechs-sama,” Finn nodded politely, offering the two leaders a calm, respectful greeting. He engaged them in light conversation, completely turning his back on a certain Governor.

”...” Azazel blinked.

”Oi, oi! Are you seriously just going to ignore me?” Azazel complained, waving his hands.

”Since when were our positions equal?” Finn glanced over his shoulder, looking down at Azazel with lazy disdain.

”...Don’t be so stiff, kid! Should I start calling you with a ’-sama’ instead? You are technically the supreme boss of the Grigori now, after all,” Azazel muttered, entirely speechless at the blatant disrespect.

”Just focus on getting this meeting over with,” Finn sighed.

He didn’t care about Azazel’s complaining. Finn knew exactly what the scripted contents of this peace treaty were; there was no need for him to actually pay attention to the boring politics.

”Also, Serafall. Step down.”

”Eh?!”

Finn gently but firmly pushed against her shoulders. Serafall pouted violently, completely refusing to let go. Instead, she clung to him even tighter, practically wrapping her arms and legs around him like a koala. The intense, sugary-sweet scent of frost and strawberries washed over him, and the heavy, unbelievably soft twin mounds of her chest pressed intimately against his stomach, sending a dangerous, electric heat straight to his core.

”...Please,” Finn groaned, deeply speechless by her lack of shame in front of the other faction leaders.

Only when Sirzechs cleared his throat, offering a gentle but warning gaze, did Serafall finally relent. She let out a dramatic, adorable whine and detached herself, smoothing down her frilly pink skirt.

The group finally transitioned into the academy’s grand meeting hall, ready to begin the inevitable peace treaty where all the major decisions had already been secretly finalized.

However, unlike the original timeline, Finn expected a smooth night. Azazel wasn’t stupid enough to bring the chaotic White Dragon Emperor to a delicate peace summit, right?

Clack. Clack.

Heavy, confident footsteps echoed down the hallway.

”Azazel.”

”Y-You... what the hell are you doing here?!” Azazel panicked, his relaxed demeanor instantly shattering as he stared at the young man with silver hair entering the hall.

”I am your personal bodyguard, aren’t I? Naturally, I have to watch over you,” Vali Lucifer replied.

Vali’s expression was perfectly neutral, but his sharp, predatory eyes immediately darted toward Finn.

Finn didn’t even blink. He didn’t look at Vali. He didn’t acknowledge his presence. He continued staring blankly at a spot on the wall, completely ignoring the White Dragon Emperor.

Vali’s jaw tightened. His overwhelming, arrogant pride took massive damage at the blatant dismissal. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

What is he planning? Vali thought, his blood boiling.

Unlike the oblivious leaders, Vali knew Finn was plotting something massive in the shadows with Kuroka. Frankly, it made Vali incredibly uncomfortable. Kuroka, the stray cat who had spent years chasing after him, had suddenly abandoned their terrorist cell to fiercely devote herself to Finn instead.

Women are all the same, fickle creatures, Vali snorted inwardly, desperately trying to brush off the sting of her defection. He didn’t care. All he cared about was absolute power, and he swore he would grow strong enough to crush Finn’s arrogant indifference.

Meanwhile, standing deep in the shadows of the meeting hall, completely ignored by everyone, was Issei Hyoudou.

Why... why do I feel like this?

Issei stood near the wall, acting like a literal background character. No one looked at him. No one addressed him. He was the wielder of the Boosted Gear, the legendary Red Dragon Emperor, yet standing in this room filled with Maous, Archangels, and Finn Balam... Issei felt smaller than an insect.

His power was pitiful. He couldn’t match a single person in this room. Yet, deep inside his soul, the dormant Welsh Dragon roared in absolute, agonizing humiliation. The absolute disrespect of being treated like thin air was tearing Issei apart.

But Issei knew his place. If he spoke out of turn, if he threw a tantrum like he usually did, he wouldn’t just be scolded—he would likely be killed.

Issei gritted his teeth, his eyes desperately drifting toward Rias Gremory for some shred of comfort.

But Rias wasn’t looking at him. Her mesmerizing blue-green eyes were fixed entirely on Finn, filled with a complex, desperate mix of frustration, longing, and undeniable hunger. She didn’t even spare a single glance for her own pawn.

The realization hit Issei like a physical blow to the stomach, driving him deeper into a crushing, suffocating despair.

Completely oblivious—and entirely uncaring—about the internal meltdowns of the two heavenly dragons, Finn simply leaned back in his chair, his senses expanding outward.

”A-Anyway, let’s officially begin this summit!” Azazel announced, loudly clapping his hands together to cut through the suffocating tension Vali had brought into the room.

Outside the school, completely cloaked by the night, those waiting in the shadows finally began to move. The Khaos Brigade was heavily armed and utterly prepared. To achieve their goals and completely ruin this fragile peace, they wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to slaughter everyone inside and reduce Kuoh Academy to a pile of burning ash.

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The war is about to begin!