A/N: Hi guys, this is my first fic, it's rather amateurish and a bit hard to read at times but I hope you still enjoy it.
If there are any inconsistencies please write it in the paragraph and I'll try to fix it.
Enjoy đź‘‹
BZZZT~
BZZZT~
"Public safety Emergency Line. State your situation."
Static crackled for half a second before a voice burst through.
"A–Ah… please – please, there's a devil! He—he killed everyone!"
The operator's tone didn't change. "Ma'am, calm down. Tell me your location."
"I-I'm in Saitama Prefecture, Kawagoe City… Honmaru Street… I don't know what's happening. I was at work and then—" Her breath hitched. "People started screaming. He touched them and they just-..they just—"
A loud crash echoed on her end of the line. She gasped and muffled herself, as if covering her mouth.
"Ma'am, stay quiet," the operator said. "We've dispatched a Public Safety unit to your location. Are you somewhere secure?"
"I'm hiding behind a counter. I think he's outside. I—I can hear footsteps…"
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The woman whimpered.
"A-ah.. H-he's here.."
"Ma'am, listen carefully," the operator continued steadily. "Do not leave your position. Officers are three minutes out. Can you see the devil?"
For a few seconds the phone was silent, then a shaky whisper came out.
"He's standing in the middle of the street."
"What does he look like?"
"…H-he looks.. human?"
The line crackled.
"He's smiling," She paused,"I think he's looking at me."
BZZT—
"Ma'am? Stay hidden. Do not engage. Ma'am?"
The sound of something dropping.
CRACK.
The phone shattered as it hit the ground.
The woman stumbled backward from behind the overturned counter, tears streaming down her face. Her chest burned from holding in screams.
He stood across the street.
A young man with long grey-blue hair resting over a black shawl. Across His face was patches stitched in thin lines. His posture was relaxed.
She shook her head rapidly. "P–Please… I didn't do anything…"
He tilted his head slightly, as if confused by her reaction.
"Didn't I explain the rules?" he asked gently.
His voice was warm. Friendly.
On the asphalt between them was a thick red line, drawn carefully from one side of the road to the other.
"As long as you follow my instructions," he continued, stepping closer, "you'll be allowed to go home."
Her legs trembled.
"You said… you said if I crossed it…"
"Yes." He smiled wider. "If you cross that line, you're free. Completely normal again."
He extended his hand.
After a second of hesitation, she grabbed it. His grip was steady as he helped her stand upright.
"There," he said softly. "All you have to do is walk."
She didn't look at him again.
She ran.
Each step felt like it might be her last. Her heartbeat pounded violently in her ears as she closed the short distance to the red line.
Just a little further.
Her foot crossed.
Contrary to what she expected the devil stood behind her while waving seemingly uninterested in killing her.
Instead, a wave of unnatural calm spread through her chest.
Her breathing slowed.
The fear dulled for a moment replaced by a serene feeling of calm.
She blinked.
"I… I'm okay…"
After taking a deep breath she took another step forward.
For some reason her knee bent strangely.
She stumbled, catching herself on the ground. Her limbs didn't feel right.
Behind her, the man watched with open fascination.
"You crossed it," he reminded her gently.
Her balance shifted upward as if gravity had changed direction. The street seemed to sink away beneath her. Her limbs no longer carried weight the way they should.
A thin, strained sound escaped her throat.
She tried to scream.
What came out didn't sound human.
Her body seems to mutate her limbs turning from inward to outward, a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and muscle replaced her body, and before long her head was slowly inflated into a red balloon before her body was turned into a string of flesh holding the balloon.
The man placed his hand behind his back before extending his other hand grabbing the balloon.
"Well," he said with a small sigh, "I did kill you before you crossed the line, so I never lied."
The red balloon drifted upward into the sky as he let go of it.
WHEEWOO
WHEEWOO
The young man glanced toward the approaching sound, then towards the empty buildings lining the road.
One of the glass doors ahead shimmered faintly as he approached, its surface warping into a grotesque flesh gate made of humans mouth and teeth, it expanded just enough to let him pass.
It straightened immediately after.
The city block stood still with faint sounds of pulsing heartbeat beneath the street.
.
.
.
.
.
.
My name is Mahito.
Or more accurately, I've reincarnated as Mahito.
I died in the most ridiculous way imaginable, suffocated between my girlfriend's thighs.
No, I don't regret it.
Now I'm here.
Reborn as Mahito from Jujutsu Kaisen, an anime I would've never willingly watched, mostly because of its Illiterate and insufferable fanbase. You could argue that separating art from audience is the mature thing to do.
I still wouldn't watch it.
Nor would I have touched ChainsawMan either. Especially not after that Fuckass Reze gif that kept haunting my Fyp.
And yet, here I am.
Living in the world of Chainsaw Man.
The moment I opened my eyes in the middle of an empty street, I understood what I was.
I am the Human Devil.
Humans fear each other.
Humans fear themselves.
So I was born.
Why I look like Mahito? Why I exist in this particular world?
I don't question it.
There's something deeper than logic inside me. An instinct that's guiding me.
After all, I am human too. In a way.
What fascinates me is this:
Am I evil?
Am I good?
Do my actions even qualify as evil if morality itself is something humans invented?
If humans didn't draw invisible lines and call them "laws" or "ethics," they would kill and rape each other without hesitation.
So does morality truly exist?
Is it a survival mechanism? A social contract?
Or is there some unseen, absolute standard set by a higher power?
And if there is… does it apply to me?
I want to know what I am.
Whether I still carry guilt.
Empathy.
Attachment.
Surprisingly, I do feel guilt.
I do feel empathy.
But I also feel apathy.
And a complete lack of shame.
Ah.
Maybe that contradiction is what it means to be human.
I walked through the tunnel I created, walls, ceiling, and floor formed from transfigured bodies fused seamlessly together. The texture shifted subtly as I passed, adjusting to my steps.
In total, I've transfigured over two thousand people in this single city.
Within a radius of roughly three hundred meters, nearly every cubic meter of space has been replaced, reshaped, by human material. Buildings remain structurally intact from the outside.
Inside, however, they belong to me.
My current goal is simple.
Meet the main cast.
Study them.
Understand humanity through its most exaggerated examples.
"Hrrnngh…"
A muffled sound echoed from the wall to my right.
"Oh—whoops! Almost missed you there, buddy."
I skipped toward it cheerfully.
Embedded in the surface was a mouth. Where eyes should have been, there were ears instead—twitching faintly at the sound of my voice.
Ah.
This one.
I've been using him to test the limits of my technique. Or rather, my ability.
I lightly tapped his cheek.
"Still responsive. Good."
With a gentle push, I pressed him deeper into the living wall until only a faint outline remained. The surface smoothed over, absorbing him back into the structure.
Despite existing in the Chainsaw Man universe, I still possess Idle Transfiguration.
The ability to reshape souls through touch.
However, there's no cursed energy here.
Instead, Devils runs on blood and fear.
Blood as fuel.
A bit inefficient for me.
That's why I needed so many test subjects, fuel reserves and experimental material in one convenient package.
The technique functions properly. As long as I have enough blood, I can mold a soul into whatever form I desire.
Which brings up an interesting question.
How does the Infinity Devil work?
Can I harvest its blood repeatedly to sustain myself?
More importantly… if I peer into its soul, can I replicate that "infinite" attribute within my own?
That also brings another question, can I change the nature of a devil?
The thought makes my lips curl upward.
My grin stretches wider than necessary before I shake my head sharply.
Focus.
Speculation later.
At the end of the tunnel, faint light spills inward. An exit.
As I step forward, the walls tremble subtly—hundreds of muffled human voices vibrating through the structure. Not loud enough to be words.
The tunnel seals itself behind me.
.
.
.
.
.
Chapter End.
A/N: hi guys, this is my first fic as you can see, now some of you may not like the reincarnated part but just ignore it, I'm just tryna viewbait. Besides mahito will still act the same in the end.