Chapter Text
She was never a fan of Family Sundays.
Even at this age, she understood the importance of bonding, but if you had to forcibly designate a time slot to spend together, could you really call that bonding?
Instead of naturally coming together to enjoy each other’s presence, you essentially made it a chore.
She supposed she didn’t really have anything better to do to complain too much, but that was more a result of shyness and not wanting to upset her parents.
If she could really speak her mind, she’d say that trying to force everyone together just caused more tension than it did harmony.
If she could really speak her mind, she’d say that it was unfair that she got dragged along with them when, in reality, it was only them that had issues.
And if she could really speak her mind, she’d say that venturing even a few minutes into the forest, down to the riverbank, without any form of protection was dangerous, no matter how close the devil hunters were.
Case in point.
“Asa!” the woman she knew as her mom shouted at her.
Asa barely registered it, too engrossed in the sight before her, the hands that had once carried her now gripping the stump that was her dad’s leg, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.
The devil that had claimed his limb lay dead nearby, the rock her mom had used to kill it still resting beside its body.
“I’ll keep pressure on his leg! You go call the devil hunters!”
She just kept staring.
There was so much blood, and yet the man remained conscious, muttering and hissing as his wife tried to keep him alive.
“Asa!”
How had that even happened? One moment they were all okay, the next, a devil had burst from the water.
Had it tried to get Asa? She couldn’t recall. She just remembered her dad hitting the ground and her mother raising a stone over its head.
What a weak devil. What even was it? It had three main tentacles, and it definitely seemed aquatic.
Perhaps it was a devil based on a specific squid, something precise and strange. Did devils even get that specific?
Or perhaps it was based on an emotion rather than an animal.
And which one would that be?
Helplessness?
Well, it couldn’t be that helpless, considering it had just killed her—
“Asa!!!”
Asa turned tail and ran back the way they had come.
Her dad was going to die.
Her father.
The man who helped raise her.
He had recently gotten laid off, but he promised he was actively job searching.
He was a lazy drunk.
He always sported a grin and tried hard to rekindle what he and Mom once had.
He was violent.
He loved her. He loved Asa.
In a daze, he had once said she was the only reason he was still around.
He said he wished they had never had her.
Her thoughts were tangled, tripping over each other.
And then she tripped.
An odd thing to do, considering that even on this forested path, there was nothing to trip on.
No roots, no overturned rocks, nothing solid enough for her foot to catch on.
And yet, she tripped.
She tumbled forward, arms shooting out to take the brunt of the fall. Her palms scraped against the dirt, and she fell onto her side, sucking in a sharp breath at the sting in her hands.
Pain ran through her, spreading from her hands to her head, ringing through her already overstimulated mind.
She should get up.
It had hurt, but she could still get up.
She knew she should, considering her father didn’t have long, but…
She just stayed there.
Waiting for…
Waiting for what?
What exactly was she doing?
What…
And then, she heard it.
Bzzzt.
A small, mechanical whirring noise.
She scrambled to her feet, her head whipping around wildly for whatever had made that sound. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for her to realize that it was real.
And what was it?
A person? Nearby wildlife? Some sort of government testing they hadn’t noticed beforehand?
Or was it—
Bzzzt.
A shrub close to Asa rustled, and her eyes snapped toward it.
An orange mammal the size of a small dog stepped out of the brush, not resembling any species she had ever seen, which made sense, considering the chainsaw protruding from its head and a black handlebar spanning the back of its neck.
A devil.
Bzzzzt.
She screamed, trying to back away, before disaster struck again.
Her foot twisted at the wrong angle, and she fell again, this time flat on her back.
She heard the taps of it feet getting closer, and she shut her eyes, bracing for the same fate as her dad, hoping the devil would at least have the decency to kill her before feeding on her body.
And yet, after a few moments, the feeling of a chainsaw tearing through her never came.
Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, sitting up to see what had happened.
To her surprise, the devil was lying on its side, its mouth wide open as it panted.
As she got to her feet, wincing at the sharp pain in her ankle, she saw that it was wounded.
Near its stomach, or what she assumed was its stomach, blood drizzled from a handful of large puncture holes, as if something had tried to take a bite out of it and then spit it back out.
Its eyes were closed as it struggled to breathe, and Asa, despite herself, took a step forward.
The noise alerted the devil. The eye facing her opened, the beady orb locking onto her.
It was dying.
“Worff…” it barked weakly.
She stood still, watching as its body trembled.
She should kill it.
It was a devil.
One of its kind had just attacked her and her family, tearing off her dad’s leg.
If it were healthy, she had no doubt it would try to kill her too.
She should find a rock, just as her mother had, and end it.
But…
Those eyes.
It stared at her with such a pitiful, meager look that she couldn’t bring herself to act.
…No.
She wouldn’t kill it.
She’d leave it there, for someone else to stumble upon and deal with. She would leave and go find the devil hunters, just like she said she would.
She should just—
It coughed, a small spray of blood splattering against the dirt beside its head.
Her lip wobbled.
What was she still doing here?
It was a devil. It would be good if it died, wouldn’t it? She should leave and focus on her human father, who was very much bleeding out right now.
But she didn’t.
She just kept staring at it, feeling her palms grow wet with the blood still seeping from them.
And then she got an idea.
“…Can you understand me?”
She had learned that some devils could understand language, some much better than others. Usually, the stronger the devil, the more likely it was to understand.
This one appeared weak, so the chances were—
“…Arf.”
She blinked.
“Does that mean yes?”
“…Woof.”
She hesitated, something hot and unfamiliar bubbling up in her throat.
“…Okay… okay. Um…”
She swallowed it down.
“From here on out, bark once for yes, and twice for no.”
It barked once.
“Have you killed any humans?”
“…Arf arf.”
Okay, so it was either a liar, or it was the world’s first good devil.
“…Do you… do you promise?” she asked.
“…Woof.”
…
She wasn’t sure if promises made by devils meant anything, but she was too far in now to back out.
“Blood can heal devils, right?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer from books she’d read.
It yipped in confirmation.
“Okay then… I-I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t want you to die,” she admitted.
Its eye remained fixed on her as she continued.
“So, I’ll let you drink some of my blood so you can live.”
Its pitch-black iris widened ever so slightly.
“B-but,” she said, raising a finger, “from here on out, you have to promise to keep not hurting humans.”
The devil huffed, letting out another bark. It was getting weaker.
“It’s a… it’ll be a contract, okay?”
Contracts made without government supervision were illegal, she knew that, but… looking at it, it didn’t seem like one of those devils that massacred people.
Right now, all it really reminded her of was her dad.
And besides, if she made a contract with a devil that prevented it from hurting people, wasn’t that a good thing?
“…Woof.”
She was pulled from her thoughts as she watched the small creature struggle to flip itself over, its legs shaking as it pushed itself upright.
It trotted over. Asa gulped as it stopped in front of her, waiting expectantly.
“…My palms are already bleeding, so you can drink from them, okay?”
It woofed as she bent down.
She held out her hands. For a moment, she thought it might use the closeness to rush her, to cut her down and devour her as she had first imagined.
That thought vanished as it lowered its head carefully, tilting so the chainsaw wouldn’t touch her, and sniffed loudly.
She shivered as she felt its small tongue begin to lap at her palm.
Its tongue was hot and coarse, licking with a desperation that only made Asa feel even more pity for it.
“T-there’s more on the other hand, if you want,” she meekly offered.
The devil didn’t bark in response, instead letting out a soft, purr-like sound.
It detached from her hand and moved to the other with the same desperate drive to save itself.
She watched as the rate at which blood dripped from its body began to slow, and once the cuts on her hands ran dry, it stopped entirely.
At that point, another feeling washed over her, and she noticed the devil stiffen as well.
It felt like something had reached into her chest and given her heart a slight squeeze.
Was that the contract activating?
If so, then that meant the devil was fine now.
“Are you… good?” she asked nervously.
The devil pulled back, then shook itself rapidly. It stretched, lifting a leg to scratch the side of its head.
When it finished, it looked… satisfied, turning to face her, both eyes now bright with renewed energy.
“Woof!”
…It really was like a dog.
“Um, okay,” she said, taking a step back. “I-I have to go, and when I come back, I’ll be with a bunch of devil hunters, so… get out of here, okay?”
The devil’s expression fell, its small mouth curving into what she could only interpret as a frown.
It began to whine.
“What?” she asked.
It kept crying.
“I… my dad is hurt, okay? He might already be dead, and… it’ll be my fault, because I stayed and saved you!”
The devil went quiet, staring at her with tear-filled eyes.
She tried her best to steel her heart against it.
“Don’t… don’t waste this, okay? I at least want to save someone, so… go. Don’t die.”
The devil whimpered but took a step back.
It kept staring at her, and Asa felt her own eyes begin to water.
Why?
This was a devil. Why did she care?
Not wanting to think about it any longer, she turned and resumed her run, this time with a slight limp.
Curiously, as she ran, even with her injured foot, she didn’t trip anymore.
“You noticed,” her mother said, her voice clear even though they had both been pretending to sleep for the past hour, “that I killed Dad, didn’t you?”
Asa’s heart stopped.
She had. Right when she came back with the hunters. when they assessed the body of the man and the devil, she saw that the rock used to kill the creature had been moved, now covered in even more blood.
The hunters called it in, reporting that the only casualty was an adult male.
Cause of death: blood loss and blunt head trauma.
Her grip on the pillow tightened, and she hoped the woman beside her would stop talking.
“But listen,” the woman continued, ignoring the girl’s silent pleas, “if he’d only lost a leg, the insurance payout would be puny,” she said, almost thoughtfully.
She couldn’t close her eyes.
“It was bad enough that he wasn’t working. Life would only get harder.”
It was true.
An objective fact she had long since recognized.
“But if he’d been killed by a devil, we’d get a big payout.”
Her hand trembled.
“And you could even go to high school.”
Her vision blurred.
“Besides—”
And Asa almost whispered enough.
“He was cheating on me.”
The words landed and nothing followed.
And with that, her mother stayed quiet the rest of the night, having justified murdering her husband.
The worst part?
Asa didn’t even really care that her dad was dead.
She just didn’t like that her mom had been the one to kill him.
Asa spent her time reading.
And even though it was just the two of them now, the apartment still felt stuffed.
So, she read outside.
Next to the complex they lived in, there was a small fenced park, with benches and a playground that didn’t interest her in the slightest.
Residents rarely came by, so Asa typically had the place to herself, a fact she had recently developed a quiet appreciation for.
She… didn’t really want to talk to anybody right now.
Not that she had many options, of course. There was only her and her mom, who…
Her hands trembled, her mind hardly on the page in front of her.
How long would this feeling last?
Would it ever go away?
She really hoped it would.
Her mom… she wasn’t a bad person.
She had a reason for doing what she did. And… it wasn’t like Asa was much better.
No good person feels relief at hearing their father had died.
That just wasn’t—
“Arf!”
Asa slammed the book shut and looked toward the park entrance, where the street beyond was still clearly visible.
She expected to see someone walking their dog, something to explain that sound.
That bark.
Because it sounded exactly like—
Bzzzt.
Her head snapped around.
There, on the other side of the fence, half-hidden by overgrown shrubbery, was the devil she had saved the other day, its chainsaw lightly scraping against the metal links.
“Woof!” it yipped, clearly happy to see her.
“I-it’s you!” she exclaimed, jumping up from the bench.
She hurried over as the small, dog-like devil backed away slightly, almost disappearing into the brush.
“What are you doing here?!” she half-whispered, half-yelled. “If devil hunters see you, they’ll kill you!”
The devil just stared at her with its beady eyes and whined.
Her brows furrowed, confused about what it wanted, until she heard the low, unmistakable sound of a stomach growling.
It was hungry.
“I… I’m not giving you more blood,” she muttered.
The devil tilted its head at her.
Then an idea struck.
Devils fed on blood, but they could survive on other things, too.
She dug into her pockets, searching for the snack she had brought along in case she got hungry.
“Um…” she began, holding the bar up to examine it. “Can you eat a chocolate granola bar?”
Thankfully, it didn’t seem to share every trait of a normal dog, and it gave a single, cheerful bark.
Their agreed-upon way of saying yes.
She opened the wrapper and broke off a piece.
“Here,” she said, stepping closer to the fence. “You can have this. I’m not that hungry.”
The devil barked appreciatively.
She tried to push her hand through the gaps in the fence, but even her small hands wouldn’t fit. She managed to stick a few fingers through, holding the piece awkwardly as she waited.
The devil pressed up against the fence, rising onto its back legs as it tried to angle its head just right.
After a few awkward seconds, she finally felt its teeth catch the edge of the bar, pulling it free from her fingers before dropping back down and chewing.
It was… a slow way of feeding it.
There had to be a more efficient way—
…
She glanced around, making sure no one was watching.
Then she exhaled and jumped, grabbing the top of the fence.
She was tall for her age, so climbing it wasn’t too difficult.
She rolled over the side, falling with a soft thud as her ankle throbbed at the drop.
Thankfully, the other side of the fence had enough green to cushion the fall.
“Arf! Arf!”
The little devil was barking excitedly, running around in circles with excess energy.
She quickly raised a finger to her lips.
“Quiet!” she ordered, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby.
The devil shut its mouth, looking at her with its wide eyes, tail wagging which she now recognized to be a rip cord.
Her slight annoyance quickly dissipated.
“O-okay,” She said, giving a quick cough, “Let’s go a little deeper in the woods, so no one else can see you.”
It barked in agreement, and the pair made their way deeper into the forested area, and once she was sure no one could see or hear them, she stopped, bringing the bar out from her pocket again.
“Here you go.” She announced, bending down to present the treat to him, “Eat.”
It yapped, trotting to her extended hand in chowing down.
She watched with a mix of amusement and curiosity as it ate, with the latter taking over as she took in more details of the devil.
She had heard that some devils were capable of suppressing their murderous intent around humans, and some had such a lack thereof that they were considered docile.
But was there a case of such a friendly devil like this one?
Especially one with such a dangerous looking blade sticking out.
“Um,” She began, as it chewed loudly, “Are you some sort of chainsaw devil?”
The devil in question gulped loudly, before giving an affirmative bark.
Asa gave a quick brush to the ground beneath her, before taking a seat.
This was far more interesting than reading.
“Okay,” She confirmed, “Are you by yourself?”
The devil paused, then gave a single quiet bark.
“…I’m sorry.”
It gave a soft whine, and sat directly across from her, sinking its fat head to the ground.
In an act she could only call impulsive, Asa reached out a hand and gave it’s back a scratch.
It shut its eyes as she did and began to purr once again.
An uncomfortable knot began to swell in her chest.
“Do you live around here?” She continued.
It gave two small yips in response.
“…Do you live anywhere?”
An even quieter two yips.
She pursed her lips.
Poor thing.
It was just…
It was a devil.
But… it was just trying to survive.
It was a devil.
It was going to die if no one helped it out.
It was a devil.
…Do devils also wish their dad would die?
…
“I…” She hesitated, “Part of me wants to take care of you, but… you’re a devil. If I took you home, my mom would report you, or maybe she’d just flat out kill you.”
Another soft whine.
“But I don’t want you to die.”
At that, it opened its two eyes, looking at her ever so slightly.
“If a devil or a devil hunter finds you, they’ll probably kill you.” She continued, as it kept studying her.
She took in a breath.
“I can’t promise you a great life, for now anyways, but I’ll come by and feed you and spend time with you every day I can… assuming you want that, of course.”
Her face flushed near the end, uncertainty creeping in.
Here she was, trying to negotiate with a devil to let her take care of him
And it wasn’t even a good deal.
All she could offer was occasional food and company.
It would have to survive on its own the rest of the time.
It was hardly—
“Woof!”
She blinked as the devil got back to its feet, its cord tail wagging even more furiously as it bent onto its hind legs.
Before she could question it, it jumped.
She barely had time to react as it tackled her, pressing her back against the ground and thrusting its head forward, licking her face.
“Wha—? H-hey! Stop, s-stop, hehehe!” she breathed out, giggling at how enthusiastic the little guy was.
The devil barked between licks, overjoyed, and she let it continue.
They stayed like that for a while, before she finally pushed it off.
She would have to go soon.
“…My mom said I can only be out for an hour and a half,” she mumbled, earning a disheartened whine from the devil.
She frowned and petted its head once more.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I promise I’ll come back.”
It licked her head, giving her the kind of puppy-dog stare that made it impossible to leave.
Then, another thought crossed her mind.
“You need a name.”
Its head tilted.
“I-I mean, you are the Chainsaw Devil… but that feels wrong,” she explained. “You need an actual name. Unless… you already have one, of course.”
It barked twice.
“Oh, okay,” she said, taking in the almost longing expression on its face.
“…Do you want one?”
It barked once.
“Okay, okay,” she mumbled, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a finger.
A name.
This was the Chainsaw Devil, but it hardly looked the part. She remembered the first time she saw it, mistaking it for a dog before noticing the chainsaw and handlebar on it, which was a little confusing considering how obvious it was.
Even so, the small devil was objectively cute, looking more like a plush than one of the horrifying things she’d seen on TV.
Its name should reflect that, part chainsaw and part cute dog.
“…Pochita?”
She winced as the name left her lips.
A little on the nose, sure, but it technically fit. It was a cute-sounding name, combining the terminology of a chainsaw and dog, but she wasn’t quite sure if it was alright with that. Maybe it’d take offense to something like that?
Her worries melted away when it nodded and barked appreciatively, clearly liking the name.
A sense of pride washed over her.
“Okay, Pochita,” she said, standing and giving its head one last pat. “I promise I’ll be back.”
The little dog sat down, watching her, eyes full of trust, and something else that Asa realized was slowly creeping into her own heart.
They Typhoon Devil struck devastatingly fast.
She was at home when the first warnings came, neighborhood sirens blaring as they urged people toward proper shelter zones. It had already manifested in their part of the city.
The sound still rang in her ears now, a high, endless whir that refused to fade.
Maybe they both could have gotten to safety.
Maybe her mom would still be alive if…
If…
If only she hadn’t…
If only she had chosen differently.
“My, it’s a kitty cat!” the old woman next to her exclaimed as Asa sat on a piece of rubble, dust still drifting through the air like ash. The smell of smoke and wet concrete clung to everything, thick enough to taste.
Devil hunters had finally managed to kill the thing after a total of twenty-seven minutes. The echoes of the fight still lingered in the distance, metal groaning, something crackling faintly like dying embers.
Casualties were expected to be in the hundreds by the time cleanup was done.
“You managed to save the cat?” the woman asked.
Asa grit her teeth.
“How wonderful.”
The words felt wrong.
Hollow.
She chose the cat.
She walked away, each step unsteady on broken concrete, her shoes scraping against shattered glass, and once she was sure she was alone, Asa sobbed.
She cried until her chest hurt and her throat burned raw, until her eyes stung and the world blurred into nothing. Then she cried some more, shoulders shaking, breath hitching uncontrollably.
It hurt. All of it hurt. Her life felt like one long, unbroken chain of misery.
At first, she thought she was just a bystander, someone too small to change anything.
But she had just proven otherwise.
She had gotten her own mother killed, just so she could save a cat.
She chose wrong.
How stupid.
How meaningless.
She’d be better off dead.
She’d…
She’d …
Bzzt.
She choked on another sob, rubbing her eyes as the cat beside her hissed, its fur puffed up, tail bristling as it stared into the rubble.
A familiar blob of orange fur with a chainsaw sticking out of its head peeked out from behind a slab of broken concrete.
“…Pochita?”
She had completely forgotten about him.
For the past few years, she’d met him in their usual meeting spot, feeding him whatever she could reasonably smuggle out and reading alongside him.
And yet, she had simply assumed he would be fine with a devil leveling everything in sight. His makeshift home in the woods was probably gone too, reduced to splinters and mud.
Just another thing she failed at.
“…Woof.”
The cat let out a low growl, trying its best to back away, ears flat, as the devil trotted forward hesitantly. Asa noticed the uneven rhythm of his steps immediately.
He was limping.
Just like the cat beside her, his back leg bent at an unnatural angle.
“…You’re hurt,” she muttered.
He gave a soft whine in confirmation, pausing a few feet away, as if unsure whether he should come closer.
It was funny in a way that made her feel sick.
A devil had just taken the last thing she could call family.
That one destroyed without thinking.
And here she was, taking care of one.
But Pochita wasn’t like that devil.
He was small. Warm. Gentle.
Even now, even injured, he had come to check on her.
It wasn’t fair to blame him for something she had allowed to happen.
With a sudden rush of determination, she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her.
Pochita tilted his head, ears twitching, watching her carefully as she scanned the ground. Her gaze darted frantically until it landed on a jagged piece of rock, darkened with soot.
She picked it up.
He barked in protest, taking a step forward, then stopping, as she pressed it against her palm. Her breath caught in her throat.
Then she brought it down.
A sharp drag, followed by a thin, wet sound.
Crimson welled up immediately, spilling over her skin, warm and slick as it ran down her fingers.
He barked again, louder this time, startled, taking another step forward before hesitating.
But Asa only walked toward him.
“Drink it,” she said, her voice trembling despite the firmness she tried to force into it. “Y-you’re hurt, okay? Drink this and get better.”
He hesitated, eyes wide and uncertain, his body tense, as if expecting her to pull away.
But she didn’t.
The scent was too strong to ignore.
Slowly, he stepped forward. His tongue flicked out, catching the falling droplets before he moved closer to her hand, lapping carefully, almost gently.
“No more,” she whispered, watching him, her breathing uneven. “I-I’m done with letting people die. Devil or not.”
The words felt fragile.
Like they might break if she said them too loudly.
“From here on out, I’m going to protect you.”
Pochita pulled back slightly, licking the last traces of blood from his mouth. He stared at her with those deep, endless eyes, ears flicking once, uncertain.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The world around them creaked and settled, distant sirens wailing again, softer this time, like an echo of what had already been lost.
Her eyes narrowed, and she clenched her fists hard enough for fresh blood to seep through her fingers, dripping steadily onto the ruined ground below.
She chose wrong once.
“This time…” her voice shook, but didn’t break, “I won’t screw up.”
“I promise.”
Following her parents’ passing, Asa was granted a modest sum of money.
Not enough to live lavishly, but enough to be comfortable enough to begin again.
She was still a minor, so arrangements were offered in the form of a temporary group home. She refused the offer.
When asked why, she said only that it wasn’t necessary.
Instead, she found a cheap apartment that would accept a tenant her age. The building was old, the kind where the lights in the hallway flickered, but one where she could live in privacy due to the lack of neighbors.
Before moving in, she stopped at a local animal shelter and left behind a white cat. She lingered a moment longer than she meant to, fingers resting against the carrier.
She would have kept him, if she could have. But he just couldn’t get along with her other guest.
Pochita, at least, was easy.
He never made a mess, never barked without reason. At first, she thought of buying him a kennel, but the first night they spent together, he simply curled up on her bed as if he had always belonged there.
After a few nights, she stopped pretending to mind.
The apartment came together slowly, piece by piece, filled with whatever she had been able to carry from her old life. Most of it didn’t match. Some of it was worn. Some of it wasn’t even hers.
By the time school started, she took solace in the familiarity of it.
Four East High School didn’t allow students to work part-time jobs, but Asa found work anyway. A convenience store far away enough that didn’t ask questions and where she was sure the school wouldn’t find out.
Her money didn’t stretch far, but she made it work.
She planned carefully, budgeting each week down to the smallest expense. Groceries were manageable, and sometimes she even had a little left over. That went straight into savings, tucked away for a future she assumed would come, even if she didn’t spend much time imagining it.
Her routine settled into something steady.
School from Monday to Friday. Homework in the evenings, done at a small table beneath a dim light that buzzed faintly when left on too long. Work on weekends, long shifts that left her feet aching by the time she returned home.
She shopped late, Wednesday and Sunday nights, when prices dipped and the stores were nearly empty.
She liked that.
She kept her head down wherever she went, moving through spaces without leaving an impression, just as she preferred.
It was a quiet life. Repetitive and predictable.
Safe, in its own way.
And yet, it never felt entirely empty.
Because no matter how late she returned, no matter how heavy her steps felt on the stairs, there was always something waiting on the other side of the door.
“Woof!”
The sound broke the stillness the moment she stepped inside.
Pochita bounded toward her, small body full of energy, circling her feet as if she had been gone for years instead of hours.
Asa closed the door behind her, the lock clicking softly into place. The apartment was dim, just as she had left it.
But not silent.
“Hey, Pochita,” she said, her voice softer now, almost lost beneath his excited yips.
Her bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a dull thud against the floor as she kicked off her shoes. For a moment, she didn’t move, just stood there as he pressed close, warm and insistent.
The exhaustion didn’t disappear. But it loosened, just a little.
That was enough.
“Long day,” she muttered as she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.
Her hand found Pochita’s back, fingers moving in slow circles until he shifted, nudging her toward the exact spot he liked.
“I bet you’re starving, right?”
He barked in response.
A small smile touched her lips before she pushed herself up and crossed to the sink. She washed her hands thoroughly. He was clean, she made sure of that, but the thought of cooking with his fur clinging to her skin still bothered her.
When she opened the fridge, the faint light spilled over nearly empty shelves.
She frowned.
Right. Sunday.
“Sorry,” she said, closing the door almost as quickly as she had opened it. “I need to go shopping before I forget.”
Pochita let out a soft whine.
“Relax, would you?” she replied, already heading toward her room. “I’m just going to the store around the corner. I’ll be back before you even notice.”
She changed quickly, trading her work uniform for a pair of worn sweats and a loose hoodie, nothing that would draw attention.
When she stepped back into the main room, she paused.
Pochita stood in the center of it, one of her shoes clamped triumphantly in his mouth.
She snorted.
“Pochita…” she warned.
He growled back, low and playful, his tail wagging just enough to betray him.
Asa sighed and stepped closer. He retreated a fraction, just enough to make it a game.
“The longer you keep me here,” she said, crouching slightly, “the longer it’ll take for us to eat.”
He slipped beneath one of the dining table chairs, watching her carefully.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, as if weighing her words, he loosened his grip and let the shoe drop with a soft, almost sheepish bleh.
“Good boy,” she said, reaching down to scratch just beneath his handle. He leaned into the touch, a low, pleased rumble rising from him.
She picked up the shoe and slipped it on, glancing around for its pair.
“I’ll be back soon,” she added, her tone quieter now as she moved toward the door. “And remember, don’t leave this spot. No matter what.”
Pochita gave a sharp, affirming yip.
This time, her smile lingered a little longer.
The store was empty, the only employee a senior citizen who took their time scanning the handful of items she’d purchased.
Asa didn’t mind. Everyone worked at their own pace, and they were old.
If anything, it was a little sad.
At that age, they should have been resting. You would think they had family to take care of them, someone to make sure they didn’t have to stand under harsh fluorescent lights this late at night.
The thought lingered for only a second.
Then it turned inward.
She also didn’t have a family to take care of her.
…
She took her bags, offering a quiet wish for them to have a good rest of their evening before stepping back outside.
The walk home was silent. Even more so than before.
The sun had long since set, leaving the streets lit only by a scattering of flickering streetlights. Their dim glow barely reached the ground, leaving stretches of shadow in between.
No one else was around.
That wasn’t unusual for this area. Cheap housing came with vacant apartments, dark windows, and entire sections of buildings left unused. They had covered it in class once, with Japan having more rooms than people to fill them, a side effect of living in a world where devils existed.
Some might have found the silence unsettling.
Asa didn’t.
If anything, it ensured her privacy.
Fewer people meant fewer problems. Less chance of being seen in her work uniform. Less chance of anyone noticing Pochita.
And, in theory, a lower chance of encountering a devil.
Devils didn’t behave like normal animals. They were drawn to fear, to suffering. Crowds made for easy hunting, more panic, more chaos, more to feed on. They killed without restraint, even when it guaranteed they would eventually be hunted down in return.
She adjusted her grip on the bags and turned into an alleyway, a shortcut she had taken countless times before.
Attacks on individuals did happen.
They were just rare.
A faint splash echoed somewhere ahead.
Asa slowed, if only for a moment.
It hadn’t rained in weeks.
Her fingers tightened around the plastic handles as she continued forward.
Statistically, out of a hundred devil victims, only nine were directly targeted.
Another wet sound. Closer this time.
Her pace quickened.
Of those nine, however, almost all ended in fatality.
Her steps broke into a run.
The alley stretched longer than she remembered, the walls closing in as a sharp clatter rang out overhead.
She barely had time to react.
Something massive dropped in front of her.
The impact shook the ground, cutting off her path completely.
Asa stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Fear hollowed her from the inside out, leaving her frozen where she stood.
The thing moved.
A pitch-black mass unfolded upward, rising on eight long, spined legs. Its surface glistened faintly in the dim light, slick and unnatural.
Eyes, too many to count, shifted and focused with a red hourglass pattern at the center of each of them.
“I am the Black Widow Devil,” it hissed.
Its mandibles clicked together with a wet, churning sound as green liquid dripped from its mouth, hissing softly when it touched the ground.
“I haven’t eaten in weeks,” it continued, lumbering forward with a slow, deliberate weight. “Too many humans around to make a move.”
Asa stepped back in response, careful, measured.
“But…” it went on, a long strand of drool slipping from its mandibles. It hit the ground with a faint hiss. She watched the green liquid sizzle against the concrete. “…with you, I can finally satiate this hunger.”
For every step it took, she took two.
They both knew it didn’t matter.
“You should feel honored,” it said, its many eyes narrowing, all of them fixed on her. “Your sacrifice will ensure my continued survival. That’s all you humans are worth.”
The bags slipped from her fingers.
She turned and ran.
Behind her, the creature let out a deafening roar, its legs striking the ground in rapid, uneven bursts.
A sharp crack split the air.
Instinct took over.
Asa threw herself to the side, slamming hard into the wall. Pain flared through her shoulder, knocking the breath from her lungs, but she was alive.
She forced herself up.
The devil had leapt where she’d been standing, its massive body now twisting, struggling to reorient itself in the narrow space.
An opening.
She didn’t hesitate.
Asa bolted, sprinting toward the street, toward home.
If she could make it back to the complex, she might be safe. The entrance was reinforced, and if she could get inside, she could call Public Safety, making sure this thing never hurt anyone again.
Her foot slipped as she rounded the corner, barely catching herself.
Behind her, it was already coming.
She ducked as it burst from the alley, its roar echoing out into the empty street.
Don’t look back.
She pumped her arms harder, lungs burning, vision narrowing.
Just a little farther.
Just a little more—
“Fool!” the devil shrieked behind her. “Accept your death with dignity!”
She didn’t respond. She barely heard it.
If she could just reach the door, punch in the code, she could escape this nightmare.
Just a little more.
She could make it back.
Sure, she had lost their groceries, but she was sure Public Safety could reimburse her.
And if they didn’t, who cared? All that mattered was that she’d make it home to Pochita.
And then something struck her right calf.
She screamed as her body gave out beneath her, momentum sending her crashing forward onto the pavement. She hit hard, rolling, vision spinning as she looked at her leg.
The liquid burned through her clothes in seconds, eating into her skin beneath. Smoke curled faintly where it touched.
She tried to kick it off with her other foot, panic overtaking reason, but it clung, spreading. Her shoe began to sizzle.
“Pitiful,” the devil said, coming to a stop.
Asa rolled onto her side, forcing herself up, but the pain was unbearable sharp, consuming, pulsing through her entire leg.
She didn’t need to keep looking to know it was bad.
Her leg was most likely damaged beyond repair.
“I’d say it was a good attempt,” it continued, beginning its slow advance once more, “but you never had a chance. I only avoided using my acid so I could devour you whole.”
It drew closer.
“But you made your choice.”
Asa tried again to stand.
Her leg gave out instantly.
A broken sound tore from her throat as she collapsed back onto the ground.
“Now then,” it said, its voice right behind her now, low and eager, “time to eat.”
…
Damn it.
So, this was it.
She had always known she’d die like this, killed by a devil just like her family had.
No one was coming.
No one was—
“Woof!”
Her breath caught.
…
No...
“What…?” the Black Widow Devil muttered.
A small, orange shape darted into view, bounding toward them without hesitation.
“Arf!”
“…Is that a devil?” the creature asked, its attention shifting away from Asa as Pochita drew closer, the low, violent buzz of his chainsaw filling the air.
Why was he here?
Didn’t he understand how dangerous this was?
He could smell devils. She knew he could. So why would he—
The answer hit her all at once.
For her.
He had come for her.
“Ridiculous,” the devil hissed, its long limbs clambering forward as it moved to intercept him.
“Pochita!” Asa shouted, her voice raw, cracking under the strain. “Get out of here! Don’t—!”
Too late.
One of the creature’s massive legs lashed out, sharp and precise, aiming to skewer him, and Pochita didn’t even attempt to dodge.
Instead, he lowered his head.
The chainsaw roared to life, and with a burst of speed, he charged straight into the attack.
The impact was immediate.
The blade tore through the limb with a wet, grinding sound, purple blood spraying across the pavement.
The devil shrieked, but Pochita didn’t stop.
Before it could recover, he darted to the side, carving into another leg, severing it just as cleanly. His small body moved with relentless determination, nothing like the playful companion she knew.
Asa stared, breath caught in her throat.
He looked… different.
Focused and fierce. As if he had fought devils like this his whole life.
But the moment didn’t last.
“Cretin!” the devil roared.
It wrenched its damaged limb free and swung another with brutal force.
The strike connected.
Pochita yelped as he was sent flying, his body skidding across the street before slamming hard into a lamppost.
“Pochita!” Asa cried.
“You wish to fight for humans?” the devil sneered, advancing on him as he struggled to rise. “Then die like one.”
“No—”
Asa’s hands clenched against the pavement.
Not again.
She slammed her fist down, forcing herself forward.
“I’m not… letting that happen…”
Biting down hard enough to draw blood, she pushed herself up on her good leg. Pain exploded through her body, sharp and blinding, but she stayed upright. Barely.
Her vision shook as she looked around, searching for…
There.
A chunk of broken pavement, torn loose during the devil’s rampage.
She staggered toward it, each step uneven, breath hitching, and bent down just enough to grab it. Her fingers trembled as they closed around the rough edge.
The devil loomed closer to Pochita.
Asa pulled her arm back and threw with everything she had left.
“Hey!” she shouted, her body nearly giving out with the motion.
The chunk of concrete struck the creature’s central mass with a dull crack.
It didn’t do much damage.
But it didn’t need to.
The devil stilled.
Then, slowly, it turned.
“G-get away from him!” she screamed. “Eat me if you want, but… leave him alone!”
The creature’s many eyes fixed on her, unblinking.
“D-devils make contracts, right?” she forced out, her voice trembling. “Then make one with me! I’ll give you anything, just—”
She never finished.
A blur of motion.
One of its legs shot forward.
For a split second, she didn’t understand what had happened.
Then she looked down.
The limb pierced straight through her torso.
The air vanished from her lungs as blood filled her mouth, spilling past her lips in a wet cough.
Her fingers trembled as they grasped weakly at the appendage impaling her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pochita’s eyes widen.
“Arf! Arf!”
“Never in my life have I seen something so pathetic,” the devil mused, lifting her into the air as if she weighed nothing.
Her body convulsed, every movement sending fresh waves of agony through her.
“You beg me to spare such an insignificant devil?” it continued. “With what strength? What leverage? How dare you try to bargain with me?”
It turned, carrying her with it.
Pochita had forced himself back onto his feet, tears falling from his eyes as he barked with fury.
“Watch,” the devil said coldly.
The next strike was just as fast.
Pochita let out a sharp, startled bark as the limb drove through him just as it had through her.
“No…”
The sound barely left her throat.
He was lifted into the air beside her, his small body trembling, blood dripping down onto the pavement below.
“You really are perfect for each other,” the devil laughed. “The weak, clinging to the weak.”
Its limbs swung to one side, then swiftly to the other, their bodies sliding off with a wet shluck.
They hit the ground hard.
Asa’s body barely responded when it struck, her strength already gone. She lay there, unmoving, the world dimming at the edges.
Beside her, Pochita struggled, fading all the same.
“Now,” the devil said, its voice distant, almost bored, “watch each other as you bleed out. Take comfort in knowing your bodies won’t go to waste. At least your lives amounted to something.”
Its presence lingered, looming.
But Asa could no longer focus on it.
Her vision tunneled.
Darkness crept in.
There was only one thing left in it.
Pochita.
He was looking at her.
Even now.
Even like this.
His eyes, once bright and full of life, were dimming.
Still, he didn’t look away.
It was the last thing she would ever see.
Asa’s eyes opened as she lay on her back, and for a moment, she thought this must be the afterlife.
She had never been religious, so she didn’t know what that meant for her. Where she would go. What would be waiting.
Wherever it was, she doubted it would be kind.
Then she blinked. Because she recognized the ceiling of her apartment.
The lights were off, the room dim, illuminated only by the faint glow seeping through the blinds. It shouldn’t have been enough to see clearly.
But it was.
Everything felt… still.
There was a weight on her stomach.
Asa shifted slightly, her body slow to respond and looked down.
Pochita sat there, staring at her with those same puppy-dog eyes she adored.
“…Pochita?” she asked, uncertain.
He stuck a tongue out as he panted happily.
Relief hit her all at once.
Had it all just been a dream?
“Hey, Asa.”
She froze.
Her breath caught.
“Y-you can talk?”
Pochita didn’t move from where he sat on her chest, his expression unchanged, as if nothing about this was strange.
“We died,” he said simply. “Right now, I’m putting your body back together.”
The words didn’t register at first.
“…You’re taking over my body?” she asked.
Silence.
She already knew the answer.
When humans died, devils could take what was left and become something else. A fiend. It wasn’t common, not unless they had no other choice, but it happened.
Her breathing grew uneven.
Then, quickly, she forced it to calm.
“T-that’s good,” she said quickly, forcing the words out. “I was worried you’d die because of me. So…please… use my body. Live. Don’t end up—”
“Asa.”
Her voice died in her throat.
“These past years with you,” Pochita said softly, “have been the best years of my life.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“But I can tell,” he continued, “you’re not happy.”
Her chest tightened.
“W-what?”
“You’re lonely, Asa.”
The words hit harder than anything before.
“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “That’s not true. I had you. I was fine with that. I—”
“You were fine,” he said gently, “because it was all you had.”
Her lip trembled.
She couldn’t answer.
“I don’t blame you,” he went on. “You deserved more than that. You still do.”
Pochita leaned forward, licking her cheek, a warm, familiar feeling she knew she wouldn’t feel ever again.
For a moment, she forgot everything else.
“This is a contract, Asa.”
Her vision blurred as tears spilled over.
“I’ll give you my heart,” he said.
The room began to glow, soft at first, then brighter, swallowing the shadows whole.
“And in exchange…”
The light grew, filling every corner, until she could barely see him anymore.
“Never be lonely again.”
The Black Widow Devil watched in amusement as the small devil’s body began to fuse with the girl, melting into her as her wounds slowly healed.
So much for their bond.
At the first real threat of death, it had taken her body without hesitation.
Laughable.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t about to miss the chance to kill them a second time.
The body stirred, then rose silently.
A faint, uneven laugh slipped from its lips.
“You took over her body?” the devil sneered. “How pathetic. You know I’ll just kill you again, right?”
No response.
Instead, she brought a hand to her chest, fingers pressing lightly against her tattered hoodie.
The devil’s irritation grew.
“Hey,” it snapped. “I’m talking to you.”
Her hand moved beneath the fabric, as if searching for something.
“Do you…” she asked, her voice unsteady. “Do you have any friends? O-or family? Anything?”
The devil’s many eyes regarded her with boredom.
“We’re devils,” it replied flatly. “We’re not supposed to. It was foolish of you to bond with a human.”
Silence.
Her fingers slipped through the collar of her hoodie, brushing against her skin.
“His name was Pochita,” she said quietly.
The devil frowned.
“He was a devil,” she continued, “but he loved hugs. He loved sweets, music, being read bedtime stories, baths…”
Her voice wavered.
“…and me.”
Now the devil stared, confusion creeping in.
Something was wrong.
This wasn’t how a fiend behaved.
“H-he loved me.”
She lifted her head.
Tear-filled eyes locked onto the devil.
“And you killed him.”
A pause.
“…You’re the human?” it asked, its voice sharpening. “How are you—?”
It stopped itself.
It didn’t matter.
“I’ll just kill you again.”
She sniffed.
Then, quietly, she laughed.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “But… I don’t know.”
Her hand tightened against her chest.
“I get this feeling…”
Her voice steadied.
“…that if I really wanted to…”
She looked up.
“…I could just kill you.”
The devil’s fangs ground together with a harsh, grating sound.
“You dare insult me?” it snarled, stepping closer, anger overtaking its curiosity. “I don’t know what that weak little thing did, but do you really think it gave you the power to kill me?”
She didn’t flinch.
“…Yeah.”
The devil lunged.
Its remaining legs shot forward as at the same moment, she pulled something harshly from beneath her hoodie.
A flash of pain surged through its body as the roar of some great machine filled the street.
“AGH!” it shrieked, staggering back as the tips of three legs were sawed off.
Its eyes widened as the girl stepped forward, no longer human.
Chainsaws erupted from each of her arms, splitting through the middle of her forearms with a deafening roar.
Bright yellow orbs glared from behind a blue helmet that had replaced her head, a tangled mess of wires and cables fusing it to her shoulders like a new neck.
And from the center of her forehead, a third chainsaw extended, spinning hungrily.
“Ow…” she muttered, balancing herself over the stumps of its shredded legs.
“W-what?!” it hissed, a strange, unfamiliar panic overtaking its senses.
The girl’s gaze swept over her arms.
“He really was a Chainsaw Devil,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Seizing the moment, it spat a torrent of green venom at her.
She looked up instantly, slicing the blob with one of her chainsaws. It hissed and bubbled, corroding the steel for a moment, and the devil laughed.
“Fine then! Transform all you like! I’ll just melt you into a puddle!”
She swung her blade, sending most of the acid sizzling to the ground.
“Not if I cut you up first.”
It scrambled backward, preparing another strike, but she was already on it.
The next spray came wider, but she dove left, slicing cleanly through what remained of its front legs.
It collapsed, staggering as she circled, shredding its limbs with surgical precision.
“You know,” she yelled between strikes, “I used to think kids who pulled the legs off spiders were cruel…”
The devil spun, spraying again, but she leapt into the air, a weight crashing down above it. A cold dread settled in its gut.
“I still think they are, but…”
The roar of chainsaws filled the night.
“I see the appeal.”
It screamed as she tore into its back, swinging in wide, savage arcs, shredding it mercilessly.
And then she laughed.
It made no sense, logically, nothing about this was okay, but here she was, laughing like a maniac as the Black Widow Devil shrieked for mercy.
Finally, she decided to end it. She pulled her blades back and swung forward, slicing its front half clean in two. Its face split open, its screams cut off in a final, gurgling howl.
Silence fell.
The street was empty, save for the faint hiss of cooling chainsaws and the shredded remains of a once-feared monster.
She huffed heavily, feeling the heat of the chainsaws and helmet fade. Slowly, they began to melt, turning into puddles of a brownish substance on the ground that quickly hardened as they dried.
Thankfully, the pain that had come with the chainsaws manifesting left along with them.
And now… she really was alone.
The devil was dead. And so was…
Her eyes watered again. She raised an arm to wipe them, sniffing softly.
…He was really gone.
Sacrificing himself so she could survive.
It didn’t make sense. She didn’t want that. It wasn’t worth it if it came at the cost of—
Never be lonely again.
The words echoed in her mind. She swallowed the sob rising in her throat and wiped her face. Fine. Fine. She wouldn’t let him down. Not again.
Silently, she surveyed the street. It really was just her.
By morning, devil hunters would likely find the remains of the Black Widow. And if they found her here… no doubt they’d treat her like one too. Her blood coated the pavement, and the only evidence that she’d survived the night were the ruined groceries scattered along the street.
Steeling herself, she jogged over to the alleyway. Running felt different now, easier, almost natural. She gathered the groceries. Most were ruined, but it didn’t matter; the important thing was leaving no trace that she had been here.
Bags in hand, she turned back toward her apartment, thoughts racing. Now, she would live for both of them. She wouldn’t fail again.
Lost in her resolve, she barely noticed the small rat watching her from the shadows, standing perfectly still with an almost human-like curiosity in its gaze.
“…And what I want is death to all devil hunters!”
Denji had managed to put some distance between himself and the rest of the horde, but they were everywhere in this damn warehouse. Just meters before he could reach the door to his salvation, a blade drove straight into his back, bursting out through his chest.
Blood began to pool in his mouth, and when the zombie ripped the sword free, he coughed violently, spilling it all out as he collapsed onto the ground.
Well.
This was it.
He was going to die.
Alone, malnourished, and torn apart by the people who had burdened him with his debt in the first place.
But had he expected anything different?
He had always been alone, with no chance of ever making it out of the hell that was his life.
Still, in his final moments, he couldn’t help but dream.
Maybe in another life, he wouldn’t go hungry. In another life, he would go to school. He would have all his organs. He would have a real family.
And maybe he would even have a girlfriend.
But above all else, maybe in another life, he could just be happy.
…That would be nice.
Such low expectations.
…Yeah, maybe they were.
They are. But I can tell you would truly do anything for them.
He would. If he got another chance, he wouldn’t blow it like he had in this one.
He would live life more selfishly.
Is that so?
…
And that’s when he realized the voice was not his. It sounded like him, but someone else was speaking.
He heard the shambling of the zombie devil’s servants drawing closer, and his remaining eye strained to look around as the puddle of blood beneath him spread.
Through his blurring vision, he saw a bird perched high on a beam, its wide red eyes staring down at him.
If you wish to live, you will give me your body.
…
Sure.
What did he even have left to lose?
The Zombie Devil’s laughter echoed through the warehouse as its corpses shambled forward, surrounding the blond devil hunter.
In just a few moments, they would chop him to pieces, and then they would move on to the next of the many hunters employed by the yakuza.
A fate like this was the least these foolish humans deserved.
How dare they strike back against devils? To rise against their masters?
It defied the very laws of nature, the devil thought as it hovered in the air, watching the teen rise once more. No doubt his final, dying effort.
How pathetic.
“Kill him!” the devil ordered, and the front lines shambled forward, weapons dragging against concrete as they obeyed their master.
It was over, the boy had no chance at this point.
And then, the human raised his left hand.
“Metal Alloy Sword.”
From across the building, a terrible ringing sound echoed. The devil watched as a stack of metal poles tore through the air toward the human, crushing any zombies unfortunate enough to be in their path.
It stared in shock as the poles did not slow down. Instead, they accelerated, shifting shape as the human brought his arm down. Something unseen sliced through the corpses around him.
They were bisected instantly, and as the bodies fell, the human stood up straight.
“Zombies?” he asked, his tone completely different from the desperate, loud country accent he had earlier.
Now, he sounded almost bored.
“I suppose you’ll do as a warmup.”
“Y-you dare?!” the devil shrieked, ordering its horde forward. “I don’t know what you just did, but you’ll die for it!”
The human did not respond. Instead, he stared at the weapon in his hand.
It was a sword, but where had he gotten it?
The blade was made of pure stainless steel, its handle fashioned from crude pipes.
The zombies closed in again, their numbers even greater as they surrounded him. This time, the devil was certain he had no way out.
But he did.
In a sudden burst of inhuman speed, the human ducked under a clumsy swing, crouched low, and slashed forward.
Two corpses fell instantly, but he did not stop.
With precise, practiced movements, he surged through the horde, cutting down the zombie devil’s forces with ease.
Two more fell. Then three. One was carved into five pieces. A spinning strike decapitated six at once.
“W-what the hell?!” the devil shrieked as the human drew closer. “How are you—”
“Quiet.”
The command froze it mid-sentence.
The human paused, even as the remaining zombies rushed him. He raised a hand to his face.
“So that’s what’s off,” he muttered. “This body only has one eye.”
The devil’s teeth ground together.
“What are you even saying?!” it demanded, lashing out with a tendril.
Without hesitation, the human leapt upward, evading the strike. His blade came down in a clean arc, severing the limb in a single motion.
The devil screamed, recoiling as its servants came forward again.
“Hmm,” the human mused, scanning the zombies. “Which one of you… ah, you look fresh enough.”
A zombie lunged at him, knife raised.
He sidestepped, cleanly removing its head and catching it before it hit the ground.
“You don’t mind lending me this, do you?”
The head, of course, said nothing.
He let the sword fall for a moment, gripping the head as he worked at it.
The devil watched in disgust as he plucked out one of its eyes.
Was this guy really a human?
“G-get him!” the devil screamed. “Now! He has no weapon!”
The corpses rushed forward, but the human leapt again, using their heads as footing while tearing off his eyepatch, adjusting something within the empty socket.
The devil cursed its useless horde and readied its remaining tendrils.
“You’re getting annoying,” the human muttered.
When he lowered his hands, he looked up at the devil with two different-colored eyes and a scar running across his face.
“W-what the hell are you?!”
“What the hell am I?!” he said as the devil’s tendrils descended toward him.
He swerved between them, stepping and leaping off the writhing limbs as he closed in on the main body.
“My name is War Devil!” he announced, and a cold sweat ran down the zombie devil’s form. “Die for my warm-up kill!”
“G-get the hell away from me!”
Just before he could reach it, a tendril snagged his foot. The zombie devil hurled him across the room, hoping that would finally be the end of him.
It wasn’t.
The War Devil extended his hand.
“Zombie Battle Hammer.”
The scattered corpses shuddered, then lifted from the ground. Flesh and bone dragged together, twisting unnaturally as they compressed and fused, rematerializing in his grasp just before impact.
He swung.
The force broke his fall, the hammer crashing into the ground with a sickening, heavy thud.
He landed low, steadying himself as the weapon settled in his grip.
The handle was formed from fused spines wrapped in coils of slick guts, while the head was covered in grey skin, jagged shards of bone jutting out in crude spikes.
“Listen!” the devil cried. “I didn’t know you were a devil, I swear! S-stop trying to kill me, and together, we can…”
“Shut up,” the War Devil said.
He spun the hammer once with ease, the weight meaningless in his hand.
“Your fate was sealed the moment you stood against me.”
The Zombie Devil trembled, fear overtaking its rage.
“You damn traitor!” it screamed, tendrils lashing forward in one last desperate attempt. “Fine then! Fight for the humans!”
“For the humans?” he repeated, letting out a low laugh.
Before the tendril could connect, he had already moved.
The hammer rose overhead as he struck the ground, the warehouse groaning at the impact, and he sent himself launching forward.
The Zombie Devil didn’t have time to react. They barely were even able to see him.
For just a single instant, it looked above in horror, at a hammer poised to strike.
A red and amber eye stared down without a trace of humanity.
“I don’t care about any of that.”
The hammer came down.
The impact crushed the devil into the ground with a wet, splintering force.
The War Devil grinned as he pulled the hammer back up, resting it against his shoulder while the remains lay broken at his feet.
Footsteps echoed behind him, interrupting his moment.
He glanced back.
The remaining zombies continued to surge forward with the same single-minded determination, as if nothing had happened.
…
Very well.
If they wanted death, he would give it to them all.
The War Devil stepped out into the open, blood coating his body, most of it not his own.
The night sky greeted him. The soft chirping of cicadas acting as a stark contrast to the carnage he had left behind.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, satisfaction settling over him.
To feel again. To breathe. To exist beyond the confines of that fragile, feathered form.
At last.
He glanced down at his body.
It was damaged, starved, and incomplete.
And yet, it endured.
A body shaped by suffering and tempered by survival.
Yes… this would do.
It would serve him well in his effort against Chainsaw Man.
The War Devil smiled.
“Can you feel it, Chainsaw Man?” he asked, wiping the gore from his face. “With my return, I’ll make you vomit nuclear weapons back up.”
No one answered.
He didn’t need them to.
Soon, everyone would know.
War was back.