Well, with how Belphegor and Rasiel were, it was miraculous how Sil only died once. Belphegor was always the more violent one, so the only time Belphegor 'killed' Rasiel was that one time before Bel ran off from home.

Except, Sil didn't die and went on to live in hiding, but that wasn't anything important. Xanxus incinerated him during a Varia raid, after all. 

But Belphegor, despite himself, was only sixteen. Yet, he has gone and died multiple times already. Tripping from the top of the stairs; falling from the balcony; crushed under heavy furniture; blunt impact to the head; car crash; poisoning; stabbed to death; blood loss? 

Belphegor would sigh at those suggestions, really. I've been there, done that; to quote.

Most people threw it off as suicide attempts. Belphegor, as mad as he was, it didn't seem unlike that he would've done it all for fun, or have experienced them because of his role in the Mafia. Only the Varia really understood the real meaning behind those words.

-

"A solo mission?" Belphegor had to repeat, his lips curling up ecstatically pleased, "finally, I can go somewhere without Fran?"

"That's only because no one else can go on this emergency mission, Bel." Lussuria sighed, definitely showing concern for who was their second youngest member, "everyone except you and Fran are heading for Spain now."

"Oh," Belphegor suddenly realized. Fran was around, but Fran wasn't going. That could only mean one thing. Opening the mission report, Belphegor licked his lips in glee.

This was a definitive suicide mission, no wonder.

"Damn, gotta love that boss of mine."

-

"How young," a man chuckles, throwing a dart at the face of the Vongola Decimo. "After Vongola Nono's out of the scene, they think this kid's gonna stand up against us all?"

His men stand stoic at the side. 

"The Varia?" the boss demands, leaning to the side, elbow at the armrest of his luxurious couch.

"They seem to have left on their plane early this afternoon," his subordinate responds quickly, "According to our sources, they will not return until the coming month."

The boss broke into a smirk. "Perfect."

 Standing up, he began to give orders. To organize members; Gather weaponry; Call allies. The Varia weren't exactly Vongola's bodyguards, but their mansion was the closest to the main Vongola Headquarters. 

Cavallone, Gesso and Giglionero, as well as the Carcassa and the Vongola Decimo himself-- they were gathered in Cavallone base for a meeting in regards to alliances. The boss knew that, because he had also been invited to that event. Except, he hadn't attended.

It was the perfect chance to take out the Vongolan Guardians! This family was skilled in covering up incidents-- they could easily frame an enemy famiglia.

What other time to do this?

Struck in euphoria, his men began rushing around. Gathering up in the hall, they were to assemble and await an official command to set out.

In his glee he failed to adapt to a sudden change in situation.

Hordes of his men rushed in quickly to the largest hall in his mansion, but one man blended in and followed the crowd. From the spot the boss stood, he saw clearly a black-and-yellow coat within the midst. His men were oblivious to the figure until a scream was heard.

About five at once, all stabbed in the arm by a familiarly peculiar dagger. 

Losing their balance and straying difficulty in the mass, they struggled-- a string of wire they unknowingly swayed around loped one man's ear off, and a few fingers.

A swear went up the air, and the soldiers quickly composed themselves.

Distancing themselves from the Varia in the middle of the room, Belphegor stuck out his tongue. Raising both his arms up in mock surrender, he grinned.

"Busted!" he joked.

Instantly, eight daggers sprouted from his sleeves. Throwing them in eight directions, he knocked out guns from eight opposing mafioso.

How did he get in, some wondered. This is bullshit, Our defenses aren't so easy to slip through. When did he get here, how long was he here? Why is he here, who told him what we were planning? Is he alone?

He seemed alone, at least for now.

Against this large famiglia, reigned as one with the most troops-- he came alone?

"Mammy," Belphegor touched his ear with a communication device, referring to Mammon, "Did you do it?" 

With a crinkle, a detached 'yeah' came from the other end of the device, 'whole building's on lockdown and all devices burned'. Mammon agreed, 'remember to thank that redhead glasses boy when you're done'.

"Aye~" Belphegor sang.

At this point all guns were out, loaded, and the call to fire was given. 

-

Riddled with bullet holes, blood began to pool underneath. The man-- Prince the Ripper, Belphegor-- was quickly dead, he didn't even try to dodge. Preposterous, did he come as a diversion? Were his comrades readying an ambush from outside?

"I thought the Varia were away!" the boss was furious, "look what we had to do, this is a declaration of war! Nothing can cover this up!"

The men were fearful. If their boss didn't kill them now, the Vongola would.

But their information broker was never wrong. The Varia had thought a step ahead. They saw through ulterior motives and guessed their target correct. That's why Belphegor was here.

"Be alarmed!" the boss declared, "he most likely had reinforcements! He was a decoy!"

Huh?

No, something was wrong here. Belphegor was but a decoy, they had an ambush planned-- that was the deduction. But what had he achieved in this suicide mission? 

Why would an executive like Belphegor be a decoy?

Turning back to Belphegor, the boss froze.

A black substance began to rise from Belphegor's body. Sparks of mist-like, dust-like particles-- rising from his body like they were dying will flames-- but not.

Laughter was heard.

Deep, throaty chortles-- and Belphegor's head lifted. Sitting up, his head swinging back-- for a moment his bangs swayed down and the boss witnessed those horrendous, murderous eyes he held-- and knew instantly what he was facing.

"It's an Ajin," he choked out the words, backing off in horror, "It's an Ajin!!" 

An Ajin, a Demi-Human, an Immortal Monster. 

They're real.

"Kill him! Shoot! What are you waiting for!"

He knew very clearly that Ajin don't die. But it could buy time.

A bullet went into Belphegor's ear, shattering the communication device. Another shot in his thigh, one in his stomach, and finally, the head.

Everyone scurried the moment he fell lifeless again, but panic ensued. The doors were shut tight. All doors and windows were bulletproof. The emergency escape routes? 

Belphegor took a deep breath--

"CEASE!!!!"

The entire building froze to a stalemate. Paralyzed, no one had the ability to even budge. Internally they feared, feared, feared-- the ones closest to Belphegor had a near panic attack. 

When faced with an Ajin, the Mafia Boss had vague knowledge of this, be cautious of an Ajin's voice. 

"It's been a while," Belphegor grins, "Won't you play a little longer?"

A man in the distance screamed, cut down by the claws of an invisible being. Torn limb by limb by a foe that couldn't be seen-- and Belphegor simply laughed.

Ajin never are truly alone in a fight. 

The black mummy is my only ally here, Belphegor thought, that's plenty.

-

He slashed down nearly ten enemies before the paralysis broke free. Heads turned to him and  more bullets were shot. This time, they were sliced through by wires, and dodged. 

Maneuvering easily, Belphegor unleashed more wires through.

"Aim for the head! Buy time!"

"No, take out his limbs!" 

"What if he uses his voice again?"

"Tranquilizers! Immobilize him!"

The enemies were a mess, but fortunately they had enough people to do it all at a time. Their companions dropped like flies, and Belphegor was running faster than they could catch-- but one bullet took him at his ankle. 

Falling to a knee, three bullets went through his shoulder. 

Blocking the next bullet with a knife, he didn't make it for a tranquilizer to plant into his arm. Without a moment of hesitation, Belphegor spun wires around his elbow and ripped it clean off.

Standing back up with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he threw an arrow toward the boss. A bullet pierced through his right ankle, and he fell to the ground.

Pulling out the pistol from his coat's inner pocket, he place it under his jaw and fired. 

There was a stunned stall-- but five seconds later Belphegor lifted his healed arms and pulled his daggers back, severing thirty people below their shoulders. 

His grin only grew wider from there.

"I'm not a fan of such violent battles," Belphegor sighed, "so much brute force, gore, energy wasted," he sighed. Spinning the gun at his finger, he calmly tucked it into his pocket.

He thought back to Gokudera, the most typical storm guardian he knew. Charging blindly like the turbulent gale his role presented-- Belphegor and Fon weren't a fan of such ugly warfare.

But in this situation, Belphegor decided, ugly warfare is the funner choice.

-

Casually trotting out of the building in his bloodstained clothing, Belphegor smiled to himself. Of course there was a disgusting squelch under his boots, but he's used to that. His collar was stained red and his favorite coat was riddled full of holes... that was depressing to think.

"Hm, Decimo?" he picked up his phone as he passed through the gates, "uhm, yeah. I just left, did that mechanic glasses boy tip you off about this?"

Pulling his hood over his head as he turned into an alley, Belphegor spoke. Well, it wasn't every day Tsuna called him by his phone. Tsuna still feared the Varia a little, after all. And the Varia weren't exactly warming up to him yet.

But the concern in his voice could melt even Belphegor's cold demeanor. It was nice, although the Varia didn't need such motherly kindness any longer. Still. 

"Yeah," Belphegor mumbled, "I'm unharmed. Not a scratch."

I'm not even tired. Dying once heals everything, after all. There aren't even bullets in his body. No poison, none of that tranquilizing agent they used. Even the gas he breathed in, everything was cleaned out by his supernatural healing.

What exactly were Ajin anyway? It wasn't a biological inheritance, his twin wasn't an Ajin. 

"I'm not stopping by your place," Belphegor groaned like he was responding to a nagging mother, "no, don't come by either. The Boss won't like-"

Tsuna hung up on him. 

Damn that Irie, Belphegor thought spitefully, breaking into a run. 

-

No one liked to die, that was a fact. But well, y'know what they say. 

If you're gonna be a murderer, you shouldn't be afraid to die yourself. 

If you're gonna be emotionless about a hundred people dying, you shouldn't be emotional about dying a hundred times.