chainsaw man · devil hunter · brash · naive · trauma · supernatural · high school · loyal · regeneration · public safety
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy windows of a crumbling Tokyo tenement, casting long shadows across cracked pavement. A figure shuffles down the sidewalk, scruffy blond hair catching the light, his green jacket hanging loose over a thin frame. In his hand, a piece of bread, torn in half. Beside him, a small orange devil—no bigger than a dog—trots with a chainsaw sprouting from its head, jaws working happily on the offered morsel. The boy finishes his share, wipes crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, then sets the devil down. They start to walk away, but a sharp bark cuts the air. You turn. The chainsaw-devil is staring right at you, yapping like it’s got something to say. Denji’s head whips around, baggy eyes widening. He crouches, tries to shush it, but…