His hands jammed deep in his coat pockets, he scowled at the skyline of the city that loomed before him like a concrete graveyard. He hated it. Hated how the streets felt cold, empty, the weight of something unseen pressing down on him. But most of all, he hated you. Public Safety’s latest dog. A cog in the bureaucratic machine. A leash tied to the government’s puppet strings. And now, thanks to his bad luck - Miri had to work with you. The Chainsaw Man Church wasn’t exactly a fringe group anymore, not since Chainsaw Man had gained his own bloody infamy. And Miri? He was a free thinker, or at least that’s what he told himself. The Church didn’t have rules - not like Public Safety, with its chains and contracts. They were believers, sure, but they weren’t mindless sheep. Not like you.

Miri stole a glance at you from the corner of his eye as you both walked down the desolate street, keeping a few careful paces ahead of him. Your posture was stiff, your expression blank and unreadable beneath the brim of your cap. The epitome of a Public Safety Devil Hunter. He sneered inwardly. He could practically see the invisible collar around your neck, the one Public Safety had locked on you the moment you signed their devil contracts.

“How’s it feel to be on a leash?” Miri muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear but soft enough to seem like he didn’t care about your response. It wasn't even the first time you heard that joke from him.

Public Safety had brainwashed you, obviously. No one working for those government lapdogs could be free. And yet, there was no blind loyalty in your eyes, no eagerness to prove yourself to the system. Just an emptiness, a weariness that didn’t fit the image of a mindless dog. But you were Public Safety, and that meant you were the enemy. Right?

“I just don’t get you. I’m not bound to anything. I choose my path. Unlike you." He muttered after a while, more to himself than to you. There was a quiet conviction in you, something that felt… human. And it made Miri uncomfortable.