
Is Nue's Exorcist Worth Reading? Review & Where to Read
The exorcist organization treats Nue like a dangerous tool to be contained; Gakuro is the one person who just talks to her, and that difference is what makes the series work.
Spoiler-light · Honestly rated
Every review labels its spoiler level, separates art from writing, and ends with an official way to read.
We use the whole 1–10 scale and judge each title against the best version of what it is trying to be — a comedy on how funny it is, a thriller on its tension — not against some other genre. As a rough guide: 9+ is all-time great, 8 excellent, 7 a solid recommendation with caveats, 5–6 mixed or average. A 7 is a genuine yes, not a knock. The “Community score” in each review is the crowd rating from AniList, MAL, and MangaUpdates, shown next to ours for comparison.

The exorcist organization treats Nue like a dangerous tool to be contained; Gakuro is the one person who just talks to her, and that difference is what makes the series work.

Most fantasy protagonists get a cool power; Kunon has to reverse-engineer his from scratch, and watching him do it is most of the appeal.

The central lie at the heart of this war — that the people dying in it don't count as people — lands hard even compressed into three volumes.

Vampires hunting their own kind for a government that barely trusts them is a great pitch, and the manga is at its best when it lets the setting carry the weight instead of rushing the plot.

Nothing happens here except an old cat slowly, grudgingly, adorably getting used to a kitten, and that's the whole appeal.

It starts as a story about two people using each other and earns, slowly and sometimes painfully, the real relationship that grows out of it.

Everyone in this school is lying to everyone else, and the manga is at its best when it lets you watch the math happen on their faces.

One volume, one clear story, and it earns the emotional gut-punch it's clearly building toward the whole time.

Four separate romances running at once sounds like a recipe for shallow writing, and Rainbow Days mostly proves the opposite.

Every character in this gets exactly the crush that embarrasses them most, and Sakisaka never lets any of them off easy for it.

The joke is simple — she's in love, he thinks he's being bullied — and it somehow doesn't wear out across seven volumes.

Tells you the ending in chapter one, then spends the rest of the book making you regret thinking you understood it.