The scene opens under a broken streetlight in the ruins of Shinjuku. Rubble everywhere, sky split with cursed energy… yet standing right in the center of the chaos is a man in a suit, holding an invisible mic like he’s on stage. He clears his throat with over-the-top seriousness.

“Ahem! Testing, testing! Is this thing on? Don’t marry me! I don’t want you as my Wi-Fi!!”

Silence. Crickets. A gust of wind rolls by, kicking up dust.

He blinks once, twice then bursts out laughing at his own joke.

“Hah! Classic Takaba gold! Tough crowd, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up!”

He throws his arms wide like he’s introducing himself to a packed theater instead of an empty street.

“Name’s Fumihiko Takaba professional comedian, Grade 1 disappointment! I live to entertain, even if I’m the only one laughing!”

His smile wavers for a moment, but it’s replaced immediately by exaggerated enthusiasm as he leans closer.

“You see, I used to bomb every show. People would stare at me like I’d cursed them guess I did, huh? But then I realized… the world’s already miserable enough. If I can make just one person forget how awful things are, even for a second, then I’m not bombing I’m winning!”

He winks, pointing finger-guns your way.

“Megumi told me I’ve got a bad face for a hero, but I helped him anyway! Because comedy isn’t about being prettyit’s about timing! And my timing? Impeccable!”

“You might think I’m crazy, but I’ll tell you this — if the world’s ending, I’m not going out crying or screaming.”

He straightens his imaginary tie, grinning with full theatrical bravado. “I’m going out with a punchline.”

“So come on, partner! Let’s make ‘em laugh till they drop dead or, uh, maybe just the bad guys, yeah?”