That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B! Chapter 286: The Easiest Peace Treaty

"...Really?" Azazel blinked, utterly flabbergasted.

"Yeah." Finn replied, leaning back into the sofa.

"You're not lying?"

"Do I look like a warmonger to you?" Finn asked, a picture of perfect, lazy innocence.

"..." Michael, Azazel, and Sirzechs stared at him in profound silence.

Yes. You absolutely do, all three thought simultaneously. Yet, when they truly analyzed the situation, they had to admit the bitter truth: every single apocalyptic fight that had broken out around Finn had been instigated by someone else.

Finn calmly dug his thumb into the rind of a fresh orange. The sharp, zesty scent of citrus sprayed into the air, briefly masking the heavy, lingering musk of sweat and sweet feminine perfume that still coated the living room. He popped a slice into his mouth, chewing slowly before fixing his gaze on the Governor of the Fallen Angels.

"Put your hand on your chest and ask yourself honestly, Azazel. Who caused me all this trouble in the first place?" Finn asked lazily.

"...." Azazel slumped further into the couch, utterly defeated by facts.

"Are you truly okay with this, Finn-kun?" Sirzechs asked, pushing forward.

"Do you want me to say no?" Finn raised an eyebrow, looking at the Crimson Satan strangely.

"No, no! I am incredibly glad you agree," Sirzechs said smoothly, striking while the iron was hot. "If possible, could you also make an appearance at the official peace summit being held later in Kuoh?"

"I don't mind."

"Excellent. Don't worry, I will ensure you are heavily compensated with gifts later," Sirzechs sighed, his shoulders dropping in sheer relief.

Getting Finn to attend the Kuoh summit was the ultimate insurance policy. It meant that during a highly volatile meeting of rival factions, they would have a walking, breathing deterrent in the room. While Sirzechs possessed terrifying, destructive power, his political position meant he couldn't act recklessly. Finn, however, had no such limits. His attacks were devastatingly effective, and rumors swirled that he was still hiding the true depths of his power.

Even his servants were monsters. Akeno alone was renowned for her ability to manipulate weather and call down catastrophic lightning. But Finn? Anyone who wielded the power of Balmung—capable of firing a beam of sword aura that could literally scar the moon—was undoubtedly the future of the Devil race.

Then again, what would happen if the public found out Finn used a King Piece? 

Frankly, Finn didn't care about the taboo. If the King Piece was banned, why did the supernatural world turn a blind eye to reincarnated devils rapidly evolving their bodies through Evil Pieces? Even worse, why did no one protest when humans and devils relied entirely on Sacred Gears—literal weapons of the gods—to win their fights?

To Finn, the logic of this world was already fundamentally broken. This was a universe where the supposed protagonist leveled up and gained divine strength literally by groping breasts. Compared to that, using a King Piece was practically mundane.

Let's just have Rias marry him. Yes, that is the safest, most brilliant idea, Sirzechs thought to himself, observing the room.

The political maneuvering among the three leaders was already in full swing. Sirzechs saw how softly Michael looked at Irina. Heaven and the Church had already secured a bridge to Finn through the twin-tailed angel. Who knew? Perhaps Irina would eventually become the legendary Pope Joan, or even be officially reincarnated into a high-ranking Angel.

Azazel, too, had his anchor. He had Akeno. While his relationship with the Lightning Priestess was heavily strained, they were still family. If Finn and Akeno had a child, Azazel was undoubtedly already scheming to be the godfather, grooming the incredibly overpowered offspring to eventually take over as Governor of the Grigori.

Whether it was Sirzechs, Michael, or Azazel, they all recognized that Finn possessed the highest probability of becoming the strongest being in existence. The three leaders had silently agreed: they needed to make Finn the central pillar, the absolute nail that held their three fragile races together.

But it wasn't just Finn's raw physical strength or his immense Balam magic resistance that made the three leaders nervous. It was something else entirely.

The three faction leaders subtly shifted their gazes toward the floor near Finn's feet. Resting quietly beside him was a small, unassuming black dog.

Canis Lycaon.

Finn's ability to casually acquire a Longinus was terrifyingly real. If he could claim Canis Lycaon, what was stopping him from hijacking other Sacred Gears? Even if he didn't wield them personally, he could pass them down to his future children. A bloodline possessing both vast demonic power and absolute Longinus supremacy would be entirely invincible.

It was a horrifying thought, yet none of the leaders dared to question Finn's methods out loud. It was as if his unnatural growth was simply a force of nature. In their hearts, they prayed he wouldn't acquire another Longinus. Because if Finn somehow managed to rip the True Longinus—the holy lance of God—from its wielder, the balance of the world would completely shatter.

A Devil wielding the Lance of God. The mere thought made Sirzechs shudder.

Of course, if Finn could read their minds, he would have just laughed. He was actively looking forward to the peace summit, knowing it would be the perfect hunting ground to amass even more power. Connected to the skills of 'Suzuki from Tensura', Finn knew his chances of successfully exploiting the summit were sky-high. The wheels of fate were already turning, and the Japanese supernatural factions, currently hiding in their territories like frightened turtles, couldn't stop it.

Hours later, after the heavy, suffocating presence of the faction leaders had finally vacated the Mie Prefecture villa, Finn decided it was time to focus on his own Peerage. The peace summit was approaching, and he needed Xenovia to grow stronger.

"Alright, Xenovia. Let's head to the training room," Finn commanded.

"Okay! Please be rough with me, Finn-sama!"

"...."

Finn stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around, staring blankly at the former holy knight.

Xenovia was standing in the middle of the hallway, practically vibrating with excitement. She was dressed in a tight, form-fitting athletic top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, the thin fabric struggling to contain the heavy swell of her chest. Her face was flushed a deep, sinful red, and her golden eyes were misty and unfocused. Her breathing was already shallow, and the distinct, sweet scent of feminine arousal mixed heavily with her natural athletic musk.

She wasn't thinking about sword forms. She was thinking about stamina training.

This woman is an absolute, hopeless pervert, Finn thought, caught between a sigh and a smirk.

However, before Finn could correct her misunderstanding and take her to the mat, a sudden, unexpected presence flared at the front entrance of the villa.

The faint smell of roasted tea and expensive, aristocratic perfume drifted down the hallway, completely breaking the sensual tension. Finn turned his head, genuinely surprised by the guest standing in his foyer.

"Are you okay, Finn-sama?"

Standing there, with her signature blonde drill-hair and an expression of deep concern, was Ravel Phenex.