For the rest of the devil hunters present, it had been a hellish three minutes. Though too focused on their own survival to witness the fate of those in Power’s bowl, they were rattled from their incessant attempts at climbing the thick bowl by the sound of their now monolithic co-worker’s chatter above. Just the simple act of speaking had a profound effect on their bodies, as at this range, which was less than half a foot, though a mile by their standards, Himeno continued to chatter away with Kobeni, completely oblivious to the plight in her food below. Screams and desperate attempts at getting out of the ramen-flavored prison had only ended in exhausting what little energy remained in the hunters, as the edges were too slick to make any noteworthy climb worthwhile. 

With those who had made contracts with devils that granted them the capability of flight, their path took them out of the bowl and up towards the only trustworthy figure out of the trio. Power, who herself appeared to be preoccupied torturing some incomprehensible specks with her breath, and Kobeni, whose resting face appeared to be one of abject terror, were second-choices when it came to trying to gain Himeno’s attention. Though the small group had the capability of flight, the distance was so great that any attempts at speeding up the process were only met with further exhaustion. By the time they had reached the suited woman’s ample chest, their abilities tuckered out and they were left stranded. Hovering only a few inches above Himeno’s cleavage, the six hunters descended at a rapid pace as they plummeted towards the bosom of her dress shirt, no longer having the energy to carry on. 

Fortunately, the well-maintained fabric of the white button-down allowed them to land without recourse, giving them a full glimpse up at the chin of their monolithic captor. Her lips seemed to produce an audible noise as they separated, audible only to the mites, and the fact that they were so small that a single one of the buttons on her dress-shirt dwarfed them ten-fold only added to the misery.

“Himeno! We’re down here!!!”

One of the men strained his voice, cupping hands over his mouth in a desperate attempt to reach their superior before she mistook them for gnats. Unfortunately, outside of Power’s above-average senses, there was practically nothing they could do outside of venture inside of the woman’s ear to be correctly perceived by either of the now giga-sized women. So they agreed upon, after a short rest on her ample bosom, to continue climbing the remainder of the titanic work garment. 

• Meanwhile, in Power’s shoe…..

What had been a carefully planned out method of survival in the fiend’s shoelaces had developed into a nightmare. First their vision of the outside world faded as their size diminished once more, replaced with the ever expanding jungle of fabric wires that made up the devil-human’s sneaker. Her sweat invaded every orfice on the nigh-microscopic hunters, creating a miasma and visible fog of condensation that covered them in her scent as they fell into the sock below. Those unfortunate enough to miss the socked foot’s toe were set on a straight course to the sole of the shoe, a massive white field which used to carry a logo before it was faded from use. Dried, stale sweat cushioned their fall, soaking them further as the reality of their situation dawned on them. 

They were nearly microscopic, trapped in an energetic fiend’s shoe as she continued to splay and fidget her toes without a thought in the world. It seemed their lives were now wholly dependent on whether Power produced enough sweat from her feet to allow them enough drinking water to survive, but even the men present were not so thirsty to stoop to a level so low. They simply hung their heads, closed their eyes, and prayed that whatever higher power had brought them here decided to bring them out. 

SPLAT.

In an unconscious fidget, Power annihilated the remaining hunters imprisoned in her shoe with a single flick of her big toe. She hadn’t even realized the action, too focused on whenever her next meal arrived to care about anything but. It was a mercy, all things considered, though she would never know. 

“But, at any rate, we should be on the look out. You never know when that stuff could happen to you.”

Himeno’s voice rattled the remaining salarymen trapped in her bowl, giving them one last rally before their borrowed time had ended. Their eyes panned upwards towards the woman that had replaced their sky. Her face seemed to be getting closer and closer, lowering towards the bowl and blocking out the light. Her gaze was soft and sympathetic, with only one of her emerald eyes visible as the other remained covered by an eyepatch. As if she was assessing them from on high, her curious gaze quickly turned back to inattention, her remaining eye shutting as the devil-hunter’s lips pursed. Was she going to kiss the bowl? For some, the answer was even more horrifying. 

PHWOOOOOOOOOM. 

Gale-force winds of cigarette-infused minty breath made their way across the bowl, ripping any of the hunters who didn’t preemptively dip their heads under the scalding hot ramen off the bowl and hurtling them through the air. Like motes of dust, they were sent flying into the endless expanse of the restauran to either scavenge for the rest of their lives on the floor for scraps or land on the freshly cooked meat of a hungry customer. Only a few “lucky” souls were saved the fate of a painful death, landing in Power’s strawberry-blonde hair which carried the distinct smell of fruity shampoo. 

Her light-blonde follicles of hair towered high into the air like skyscrapers, setting a backdrop for the survivors that would be in charge of keeping her scalp clean until they were mercilessly washed away in her next bath and sent tumbling down a drain. 

With her meal sufficiently cooled, Himeno gave a bright smile as she gently lowered her fork to the bowl. Those who had survived the hurricane only had seconds to thank their lucky stars as the silver rounded object nearly the size of an entire football stadium lowered itself into their prison. Himeno took her time, slowly dipping the spoon in and out of the bowl and savoring the flavor of its contents. 

When the first group of hunters were swept up with a tangle of noodles and greenery, the light of the ceiling lamp was replaced with the darkness of Himeno’s cavernous maw. Her teeth were white, expanding into a smile and welcoming the men to their new permanent home as her tongue platformed the silver object past her lips. Immediately, the spoon was sucked clean, and with it the men were scattered across Himeno’s tongue in a desperate bid for survival. Some choked on the endless digestive fluids, saliva making it difficult to stand even once to their feet as their bodies were tossed around the mouth. They helplessly screamed for help, hoping deep inside that it was all some crazy nightmare they would soon awake from. With a deafening GULP, they were plunged into the back of the ghost woman’s throat, doomed to a death inside the dark recesses of her stomach acid.

Himeno continued to smile away, lifting spoonful after spoonful of hunter-infused ramen past her lips and savoring their microscopic flavor, mistaken for seasoning, until their bodies were sent straight down her esophagus, 

For those stuck on the woman’s shirt, they could only watch in abject horror as their comrade’s fates were sealed. Unfortunately, the reality of their situation would also soon worsen. It seemed that the size devil had a direct response to pheromones, as both Power and Himeno had sweated a fair amount since they had entered the building. It was the height of summer, after all, and the stuffy jacket and tie Himeno had been wearing was beginning to make her question the decision to skip a more fitting sports-bra. 

This simple decision would be her cleavage-clingers downfall, as the group of ten began to dwindle in size past the woman’s shirt, watching as the button of her attire began to expand and expand until it was practically the size of a building. They plummeted through the opening of the center, making contact with the hunter’s cleavage and practically slipping down its center. 

DRIP.

A single drop of boob sweat wicked them away, and their death had been all but guaranteed. It beaded, continuing to travel down the suited hunter’s endowed chest and rest on her thick tummy. It was here that the ten men met their end, quite literally unable to outswim or escape the single drop of salty sweat that had pooled between their superior’s cleavage. They drowned in short order. 

“Phew! It’s seriously been hot out. You enjoying that food, Kobeni?” 

Himeno beamed once more, gazing down at her empty bowl and turning to face her younger co-worker.