Chapter 1532: then translation of title line (the title is line [1]? Actually title is

No. 147: Devilman suffered a financial loss in his battle with Mazinger Z.

The setting sun sank, casting a dim yellow over the sky.

The battered dark giant stood in quiet tension, engaged in its final confrontation, as if the next blow would determine the outcome.

— Given the temporal discontinuity this scene represents, it's easy to see the stage device's derivative elements; after all, the true Dark Zagi only wreaked havoc in the theater for a few minutes.

Furthermore, Aumu suspects the stage device is now running on its own, with no room for outside interference.

The reason is simple: this scene is pure tokusatsu, pure Tsuburaya.

Yet he doesn't believe the playwright would enjoy tokusatsu.

It's true that most tokusatsu works reflect reality and satirize politics, often featuring tragic adult-oriented endings that turn their children's label into satire.

Only Garo, which began as a children's show but ended up adult‑oriented, manages to escape this joke—only to fall into another twist: as an adult‑oriented series, it is sometimes criticized for not being adult enough.

Though such critics are rare, Aumu is convinced the playwright belongs to that group.

He tolerates nothing less than pure, extreme creation—because he himself is an extremist.

He is so extreme that even when a demon sketches workers in the workshop, the mere thought of the 'playwright' role evokes oppression and dread.

One could call him pure, mad, indeed standing at a height ordinary people cannot reach, or say he is withdrawn, forever holed up in his own dark little room, seeing or hearing no counsel.

Therefore Aumu doesn't think he would enjoy tokusatsu.

Aumu even suspects he would look away when anyone tries to show him tokusatsu.

He will keep to his own subject, write what he deems a masterpiece by himself, and will not tolerate anyone else's interference.

As for whether what he produces is truly a masterpiece…

That will clearly be decided by the audience.

Aumu does not see himself as the public's representative in this circle, so there's nothing to say; he simply, while watching the two dark giants confront each other, remembers to raise his claw to the right.

"Oh…"

"Boom!"

The arm cannons of the Gilbalis elements fire together, easily shattering the third silver‑black intertwined mutant giant—his verdict on this theater.

Still too conservative, he thinks.

I've heard that this theater not only demands a safety contract but also assigns the production several challenge levels, the highest allegedly capable of sending someone to a month in a psychiatric isolation ward.

By Federation medical standards, this probably means the mind and soul are utterly scrambled; he wouldn't believe there's no direct source‑energy interference, so it's likely the result of a fragment of an outer god's will descending directly.

The will of the higher powers warps the entire stage setup, twisting and mutating the world; audiences can only stagger through successive distortions and assimilations, eventually teetering on collapse, sensing the approach of doom—

— The brief flash in the theater's upcoming marquee, shifting from 'Evil Spicy Theater: Mechanical Device's Lost Paradise' to 'Evil Spicy Theater: Dark Ruin Stage,' lets him roughly infer the other side's stage‑design concept; while not exactly contrived, it at least feels like a clumsy lump in the production flow.

An evil god descending?

Must it be a mediated descent?

If the medium is barely formed and then destroyed, can a descent still occur?

Cannot?

Then bid farewell to your Evil Spicy Theater—now it's going to rename itself the Theater of Destruction with me!

Also! What's playing now?

【BGM: Requiem Mass】

"Don't just pad the count with Requiem because they're all requiems—can't I tell?"

Even hearing a piece from Ultraman Nexus amid a scene of bizarrely styled monsters lunging at each other, no matter how solemn and mournful the arrangement, still makes Aumu chuckle.

After all, the only battle‑related use of this tune is when Chigusa Ren, on his deathbed, howls as he transforms—a famous scene; whereas the present scene…

Yi Zumae lacks it, but Dark Zagi possesses it.

But the figure opposite him isn't Ultraman Nexus either; it's a character thought to be spun off from the dark Lucifer setting—Dark Lucifer El.

It's unclear who this requiem is meant to comfort; on the contrary, Mazinger Zero in his card box keeps trembling— a victim unable to sleep from the noise, constantly agitated, eager to see what the uproar outside is about.

Actually, there's nothing much to see, Aumu soothes him.

Just a noisy musician disturbing the peace.

Besides, he's also someone obsessed with the past, seeking to destroy the manifested darkness that has matured from it.

Also, there's no need for your help—she can handle it herself.

Be patient—the exterior renovation will be over soon.

Like soothing a child, Aumu's comforting never ceases, for no one knows his inner self—standing as Mazinger Zero—better than he does.

When he decides to come out and look, it's best if he truly just goes to look.

Obviously, each time he comes out he leaves something behind.

It could be ashes or ruins; and now, as everything draws to a close, even the feathered serpent or lion statue are silenced and bound by Dark Trega's dark spell, leaving nothing that could land a two‑punch on Mazinger Zero.

Next time—next time I'll call you directly.

Repeatedly stressing 'next time for sure' sounds like a brush‑off, but it's actually a promise with contractual force; aware of this, Mazinger Zero ultimately withdrew.

The blazing plasma bolt erupting from the distant vortex galaxy has been propelled forward by the purple lightning bursting from his hand, smashing through the black‑red destructive beam like a bamboo shoot and undiminished piercing the deep‑red V‑crystal.

At that instant, all sound—including the music—vanished.

Then the next second, the roaring explosion and its firelight together served as background sound for the final curtain's light screen.

Afterwards, the wreckage and corpses all vanished; the victor, seemingly having expended all its energy, became a distant speck in the dissipating black mist, and Aumu, having done his homework, quickly turned his head and lifted his gaze.

A black‑rainbow beam howled, crushing the two beasts still struggling under the spell without leaving a trace of pain; at the moment those three transformed, it was also his rear‑mounted light‑flame jet, as he sped forward disengaging from the merge, his demon‑like wings propelling him, twisting at extreme speed in midair to catch the three, while simultaneously encountering four sudden lumps of memory‑metal smeared across faces.

"Wait I—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he and the three women he was embracing were smothered by silver slime.

The B‑rank soul's resilience stood no chance against the emergency repair magi‑machine truly designed for this; it was plunged into the first mental‑check stage, warm and comfortable like a hot bath, yet offering no resistance.

Then a sizzle sounded!

Golden light entwined with pitch‑black lightning burst from his eyes, easily piercing the silver metal and freeing his whole face—but it made his newly clear eyes blink in surprise, then instantly turned subtle.

Didn't I tell you that next time would be for sure?