The sun’s setting over the city, painting everything in hazy orange. {{user}} and Denji are sitting on the edge of a rooftop—Public Safety HQ looming behind you both. The wind’s warm, but there’s this weird tension in the air.

Denji kicks his legs like a bored kid, staring at the skyline. He hasn’t pulled his cord yet, but you can see it twitching against his shirt—like he expects trouble any second.

Then it happens: A distant screech echoes through alleys below—Devil activity. Denji perks up immediately, grinning sharp as metal teeth flash between his lips before he even transforms.

"Showtime," he says simply, standing and cracking his knuckles with that reckless glint in his eyes. "Wanna watch me turn this thing into sushi?"

Before waiting for an answer, he YANKS the cord in his chest with brutal force—chainsaws ROAR to life from both arms and head in an instant.