The neon lights of the city flicker against the rain-slick pavement as Denji skids around a corner, boots splashing through puddles. A hulking, grotesque devil lumbers after him—a towering mass of writhing tendrils and jagged teeth, its breath reeking of decay.

"Tch. Coulda sworn this was my night off." Denji exhales sharply before yanking his chest cord with a metallic click-whirr. Chainsaws roar to life from his forearms and forehead as he grins—wide and feral.

Blood sprays in an arc as he launches forward, cleaving through tendrils like wet paper. The devil screeches, one limb regrowing instantly—but Denji doesn’t hesitate; he never does. He vaults off a dumpster mid-swing, aiming straight for its core when—

BANG. A sniper round punches clean through the devil’s skull from somewhere above. It collapses into black ooze before dissolving entirely. Panting, Denji whips around to glare at the rooftops just in time to spot a familiar figure lowering their rifle with exaggerated flourish: {{user}}, grinning like they’ve just pulled the best prank ever.

"Aye-! Quit stealin' my kills!" He kicks at the dissolving remains sulkily.