Pov Narrator.
The next morning...
"Well… what, don't people have breakfast in this house or what?"
It was a fresh morning, the honking of cars in the background already something common, mixing with the distant murmur of the city waking up.
But even so… there was something different in the air.
Something subtle. Almost imperceptible. As if, among the crowd, something were being forged in secret. Something that had not yet exploded… but was about to.
Meanwhile, in Makima's house, Isagi came out of the guest room, walking through the hallway already wearing his Devil Hunter uniform, perfectly arranged, as if he had never been asleep.
Where had he gotten it from?
Well, he had already said it. He was a magician. So pulling things out of nowhere was completely normal for him.
Makima, for her part, was sitting on the floor, in front of the small table, in a calm and orderly position.
She was eating her usual breakfast: toasted bread, a steaming cup of coffee beside her and a bowl with vegetables accompanied by some fruit.
Her dogs were lying near her, some resting, others simply observing her in silence, enjoying her presence while she seemed to enjoy that small moment of calm.
Makima slightly turned her head when she noticed Isagi's presence, giving him a small, gentle smile.
"Oh… where did you get your uniform, Isagi?" she asked with slight curiosity, barely tilting her head, since the day before she had seen him wearing completely normal clothes.
"What, didn't I already tell you yesterday?" Isagi replied with a relaxed smile as he approached. "I was part of Criss Angel's secret magician sect… why do you think I look emo? I used to be a gothic magician in the past."
He settled in front of the table with complete naturalness, as if he were in his own home, his expression calm, although deep down, something inside him was already on alert.
"Isagi, I think I'll ask you for a favor."
Makima's voice broke the calm of breakfast, soft but direct. Isagi, who was resting his elbow on the table, slightly raised an eyebrow, looking at her with curiosity.
"What favor?" he asked, tilting his head a little.
Makima finished her bread calmly, chewing slowly before taking the napkin and wiping her hands with delicate, almost methodical movements. She did not seem to be in a hurry.
"Today I have to go to Kyoto for a meeting with the higher-ups of Public Safety… 'the big shots'. I would like you to come with me… they're a little scary." She left the napkin aside and raised her gaze toward him, waiting for his response.
"The higher-ups of Public Safety…?" Isagi narrowed his eyes with doubt, now resting both hands on the table.
Being honest with himself, he didn't know much about them. The original story (at least part 1 of Chainsaw Man) barely touched them, and the few times they appeared were only brief moments, two or three scenes at most.
Shadows. Background figures. Nothing clear. So he didn't have a real idea of what they were like or how they acted. He didn't know if he should take seriously that Makima said they were scary… Or maybe he should.
"Ash do I have to go?" he asked reluctantly.
"Even though other Devil Hunters will accompany me, they're not as strong as you, I would feel more comfortable if you come with me." she said, lowering her voice slightly, making it more intimate, closer. "Don't you feel something like that? Do you have any kind of premonition?"
The atmosphere seemed to tense slightly. Isagi looked away for a second, thoughtful.
"More or less. Even though the morning seems calm I feel a strange sensation in my stomach, as if something bad were going to happen today."
It wasn't exactly a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either. He kept his answer vague and superficial..Because, deep down. He already knew what would happen.
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Chucu-chucu
The train they had taken advanced with a constant rhythm, the metallic sound of the wheels against the rails repeating again and again, almost hypnotic. Inside, the atmosphere was calm, even monotonous.
Each person was in their own world. Some read in silence, turning pages with gentle movements. Others simply watched the moving landscape through the windows, seeing how the buildings slowly moved farther away, being replaced by more open areas.
Makima was no exception. With a calm expression, she rested her head against the window, her eyes fixed on the reflection of the outside sliding across the glass. She seemed relaxed… but there was something in her gaze.
A calm that was too controlled. It was noticeable that she was not especially excited about arriving in Kyoto and meeting the "big shots".
Isagi, for his part, sat beside her with his eyes closed, his posture relaxed, almost as if he were about to fall asleep at any moment.
But it was an illusion. His enhanced senses captured every small detail: the rustle of clothing when someone moved, the faint vibration of the train, the soft turning of pages when a person near his seat changed to the next page of their book.
Even the breathing of the other passengers.
Everything. His danger sensor (Deku's Quirk) was inactive. A sign that, for now there was no nearby danger. Of course, they were not alone.
The Devil Hunters who were supposed to come as support for Makima were scattered throughout the carriage, but far from being alert, they seemed more concerned about their lunch, laughing quietly or checking their belongings.
"(That's why they die… a shrimp that falls asleep ends up in a soup, I think that's not how the saying goes)." Isagi thought, without opening his eyes, with a slight internal grimace.
The train slowly began to darken. The landscape disappeared. Natural light was replaced by shadows. They were approaching a tunnel.
The beautiful view Makima had vanished the moment the train entered the tunnel, replaced by the monotony of walls of earth and rock rushing past the window.
The natural light disappeared completely, leaving the inside of the carriage illuminated only by the cold interior lights.
The atmosphere changed. It became denser. Isagi did not open his eyes. But his body was already ready. The sting of the danger sensor appeared suddenly, running through his body like an electric shock, clear, unmistakable.
At the same time, the sound: A click. The safety of a firearm being released. His eyes opened instantly.
With dizzying speed, he stood up and spun on his axis in a single fluid movement. His hand closed tightly around the face of one of the passengers who, silently, had stood up with a gun in hand.
He didn't give him time to pull the trigger. Isagi lifted him almost effortlessly and threw him forward with brutal force, making his body crash against the carriage door, leaving a dent in the metal with a dry, heavy sound.
Chaos began. Despite the little space in the place, Isagi spun and launched a direct kick against another yakuza, slamming him against the right side of the carriage. The blow resonated strongly, making the structure vibrate.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots exploded inside the carriage, deafening, completely breaking the previous calm. The passengers began to scream, entering panic.
Firearms were supposed to be prohibited. And yet… there they were. Isagi did not hesitate.
He brought his hands together with precision, activating convergence along with his blood manipulation. Between his fingers, blood emerged and compressed instantly, reinforced with cursed energy.
He fired. From between his hands, several torrents of blood shot forward at brutal speed, their tips taking the shape of sharp arrows.
They pierced the air. They pierced flesh. They pierced bone.
The heads of everyone carrying weapons were pierced within seconds, their lifeless bodies collapsing almost at the same time, like puppets whose strings had been cut.
Silence. A heavy silence, broken only by the echo of the gunshots and the gasps of the survivors. Of everyone… Except one.
Makima observed everything. She blinked a couple of times, as if processing what had just happened before her eyes. A sudden attack. Firearms. In an era where only the police and Devil Hunters could legally carry them.
She said nothing. She only slightly shifted her gaze toward Isagi, following each of his movements with attention. She watched him grab the collar of the shirt of the only yakuza who remained conscious and alive… something clearly intentional.
He had left him alive on purpose. The same one who had tried to shoot him. Makima kept her expression calm, serene… almost indifferent, as if the massacre around her carried no weight at all. She did not even seem affected by the fact that the Devil Hunters accompanying them lay dead on the floor of the carriage.
"A quick and effective job… impressive, I must say." she commented while standing up with elegance.
Around her, the passengers fled in terror toward other carriages, stumbling over each other, screaming, pushing in a desperate attempt to get away from the horror.
The sound of their footsteps slowly faded. Until they were left alone. The three of them.
Makima watched as Isagi slammed the yakuza against one of the seats with a dry hit, leaning toward him, bringing his face close to the man's with palpable intensity.
"Alright, son of Hiroshima Nagasaki and creators of oni-chan." Isagi said with a tense half-smile, shaking him forward and backward a couple of times. "Who are you and who sent you?"
The yakuza did not show fear. On the contrary. He looked at him with an arrogant, almost defiant smile, as if the situation did not concern him in the slightest.
"Rot in hell, Devil Hunter!" he spat with contempt. "I won't tell you anything."
He did not try to break free. He did not struggle. He simply remained firm.
Confident even in the face of the fall of his companions, as if their deaths were no less than important.
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End of the chapter.