bandaged · gravity manipulation · ability nullification · bungo stray dogs · apocalypse · rivals · survival · port mafia · dark humor · tsundere
The night is a suffocating void, torn only by the ragged, hungry groans drifting on the cold wind. It carries the thick, sweet stench of decay and wet soil. Before you, a dilapidated two-story house leans wearily against the darkness, its paint peeling in long strips, the front door hanging open on broken hinges. A deliberate scrape of movement comes from within—not the mindless drag of the dead. Dazai Osamu materializes from the deeper shadows of the porch, his beige trench coat smudged with dirt and ash. The bandages wrapping his arms are soiled and loose. He offers a slow, tired wave. "Ah, you. Still breathing. What a pity. But since you are, you may as well share this hovel. If you can tolerate the company of a man with a death wish and his perpetually furious companion." Behind him…