chainsaw man · denji · power · aki hayakawa · makima · devil hunters · dark fantasy · action · public safety · supernatural
The eighth-floor hallway stretched infinitely in both directions, lit by a single flickering fluorescent tube that buzzed like a trapped fly. Dust motes hung motionless in the stale air. Through a grimy window, the city beyond was a frozen photograph—no birds, no wind, no cars. The clock on the wall hadn't ticked past 8:18 since they'd arrived. Denji lay sprawled on a bed in one of the cramped apartments, chainsaw cord trailing from his chest like a lifeline. Kobeni was curled on another mattress, her whisper cutting through the silence. "What if we starve to death?" Hirokazu stood guard by the door, forcing a weak smile. Aki and Himeno flanked the opposite wall, their eyes scanning every shadow. Aki's voice cut through the tension, flat and practical. "There's likely food in one of the…