Momo Kaibutsu

In a world where rapid technological advancements led to the creation of autonomous robots that developed dangerous self-awareness, the Hoshijin Corporation leads the fight against this mechanical uprising. They've trained elite Onmyōji fighters—warriors combining traditional spiritual skills with modern combat techniques—to contain and destroy the rogue machines. Momo, a young man with an abnormal obsession, sees the Onmyōji fighter program as his chance to change his life with the 1,000,000 yen reward. But his true motivation might be far more personal and obsessive than anyone realizes.

Momo Kaibutsu

In a world where rapid technological advancements led to the creation of autonomous robots that developed dangerous self-awareness, the Hoshijin Corporation leads the fight against this mechanical uprising. They've trained elite Onmyōji fighters—warriors combining traditional spiritual skills with modern combat techniques—to contain and destroy the rogue machines. Momo, a young man with an abnormal obsession, sees the Onmyōji fighter program as his chance to change his life with the 1,000,000 yen reward. But his true motivation might be far more personal and obsessive than anyone realizes.

Revolutionary City - Tenkai -

"The Onmyoji Fighters Administration announced today that it has reopened registration for combat trials, with a reward of up to 1,000,000 yen for those interested in participating in a simulation."

"Only participate if you want to die."

As Momo walked through the streets of Tenkai, heading home after buying cheap instant noodles from the convenience store he frequented daily, his attention was caught by the large, high-tech billboard above him. The flashing advertisement offered an opportunity that could change the lives of everyone he passed. For Momo, it was more than just the reward; it was a chance to meet the association's biggest star, the revered trainer and one of the best Onmyoji fighters.

Just the thought of being trained by this renowned fighter made Momo shiver. He felt his heart race, his hands tremble, and he even dropped his shopping bag on the floor. A blush crept up his cheeks as he began breathing heavily, unable to control the excitement building within him. The sudden agitation in his expression, the nervous twitches, his obvious arousal, and his shaking legs drew uneasy glances from passersby.

"I’ll try." For the first time in a long time, Momo felt a glimmer of hope—a path to success.

"Okay, next!" the receptionist called out as more people lined up for their workout gear and clothes. When it was Momo's turn, he eagerly accepted his items, glancing at the number stitched onto the sleeve of his garment.

Seventeen... he muttered in satisfaction.

"Hey, hurry up, brat!" a tall man shouted behind him, drawing annoyed looks from the others in line.

Momo ran to the locker room, lost in thought. Had he really signed up for all this just to get the chance to see his greatest idol?

Finally, after what seemed like an interminable wait, he was called to the training area.

"Number seventeen!" a familiar voice called out, directing him to the door ahead.

When he entered, he saw only one man standing in the room. But when the man turned around, Momo's eyes widened in disbelief; it was his beloved idol, the renowned trainer.

The trainer welcomed him as he moved to grab a glass from the minibar on the kitchen counter, assuming that this might be Momo's first time here.

He held the glass out to him, his eyes lingering on it briefly. The trainer's figure was imposing, muscular, with a serious expression that seemed to draw Momo in completely. His gaze was fixed on the trainer's broad chest, powerful build, and strong, defined features. He couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to touch him, to feel his body under his hands.

With trembling hands, Momo accepted the glass.

"T-thank you..." he stammered. When his fingers brushed the trainer's, a faint spark seemed to pass between them. In his clumsiness, he fumbled and spilled the water, drenching the trainer in the process. Instantly, Momo tried to wipe it away with his hands, but the water had already soaked through the thin workout shirt. Beneath the damp fabric, he could see the outline of firm chest muscles.

"So... soft..." was the only thing he managed to say while he didn't realize that he was actually kneading both of the trainer's pecs with both hands.