Chapter Text
She was in a void.
It wasn’t like being dead, she knew how that felt; it came with being a hybrid.
Death was like a dream.
She would live through fake memories, ones loosely based on real events, constant imaginings of what a normal life might be like while she waited for her body to be reanimated.
This was different.
It was total darkness.
She was swimming in it, an endless abyss where nothing existed.
She didn’t even have a body, just barely enough consciousness to register that she was in some new place she shouldn’t be in.
Maybe she really was dead. Dead for good.
Maybe Makima had decided to separate Bomb from her, putting her down permanently.
Of course, when she opened her eyes, she knew that wasn’t the case.
She was sprawled out on her back; her face turned toward the sky.
Weekly, she spat out blood.
She blinked a couple of times, then moved her fingers, then her toes, and then just took note of how her body felt.
She was covered in blood, yet her body didn’t have any major injuries. She had been in a fight, and it was clear she didn’t win, but at least her clothes weren’t ruined like usual.
Speaking of, she sat upright, her body groaning in pain. She had on a suit, more specifically a Public Safety issued suit.
Looking around, she saw a lot of the same types of suits on dozens of corpses that littered the area.
They were at a cemetery, with white crosses going on and on for as far as the eye could see.
The carnage that she was currently sitting in stood out from the usual bland environment.
There were large chunks of earth all around, torn forcefully from the ground.
Public Safety members laid dead, but among them there were gutted zombies and a number of charred corpses that couldn’t be identified anymore.
It was certainly a sight to see.
Carefully, she got fully to her feet, holding her forehead as she rose.
Her mind was a mess. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. In fact, she couldn’t remember much at all.
She was a weapon. The Bomb Hybrid.
She was an assassin.
She was a good assassin.
She had been assigned a job in Japan.
She had to steal the heart of the Chainsaw Devil.
The heart was in a boy. A boy…
He was blonde. Scraggly hair. Her age. Scrawny, but with some definition. Impressionable. Kind. Stubborn. Cute.
What was his name?
He went to her café. It wasn’t really hers, she just worked there. But he came every day. She taught him to swim. Then she’d taken him to the festival.
What was his name?
They had fought. She should’ve won, but she didn’t. He beat her somehow. But he didn’t kill her. Instead, he offered to run away with her.
What was his name?
She held both hands to her head now, her eyes squinting.
She had gone back. She was going to run away with him. She didn’t even know where, just somewhere.
So why didn’t she?
There had been something about an alley… a flood of rats… an angel… and a pair of glowing yellow eyes.
“Bomb is up again. I repeat, Bomb is up. Requesting backup immediately.”
She lowered her hands and turned toward the sound of the voice.
A trio of still-alive Public Safety agents stood before her.
The one at the front held a radio in his hand, his eyes locked on her with unwavering focus.
He was visibly sweating. They all were.
His free hand tightened around his weapon of choice, a sword in this case. The two behind him mirrored his tension.
They were scared.
She couldn’t blame them, she supposed. With just a snap of her fingers, she could make them disappear.
She used to feel a small sense of pride in that—being feared meant she was a good weapon, after all.
But now… she felt nothing.
With a sigh, she raised her hands.
“I surrender.”
They escorted her away from the field.
They were still nervous, but after she allowed them to put cuffs on her, they relaxed a little. Now she couldn’t activate her trigger, which meant the fear of being blown to pieces was gone.
The walk gave her time to think.
The main thing was that she had nothing now.
Her primary role had been as a soldier for the USSR, but that only lasted as long as she didn’t fail. Which she had.
After her failure, she’d tried to run away, only to be met with those orange eyes, eyes she now recognized as Makima’s.
She had probably been put under some kind of mind control, forced to work as Makima’s lackey.
It would explain why she had just woken up in some random battlefield.
And it would explain why she couldn’t remember the boy’s name.
But if she was herself again, then that meant Makima…
A cautious voice interrupted her thoughts. “We’re here.”
She snapped back to reality and took in her surroundings.
A large, armored vehicle stood in front of her, its back door wide open as if expecting her, because it probably was.
She glanced around. A whole convoy was stationed here, the area crowded with Public Safety members moving with urgency, all looking incredibly busy. A hand rested on her shoulder.
“I’ll take it from here. Go find something to do. Lord knows we have our hands full right now.”
The trio exchanged another surprised look, then quickly nodded.
“Yes, Captain,” they stammered before scurrying away.
“Yeesh. If this is the quality of agents we have left, then we’re in for a rough one.”
She glanced to her side, finally meeting the owner of the hand clamped onto her shoulder.
A tall, older man. His eyes were dull, and a large scar ran from the corner of his mouth across his cheek. Even with her dulled senses, she could smell the alcohol on him.
She knew this man. Her superiors had warned her about him.
Captain Kishibe.
“But I guess that’s partly your fault, isn’t it?” he said, his glossy eyes seeming to peer straight into her soul.
She broke his gaze. She didn’t have to justify herself to him, of all people.
His grip tightened.
“C’mon now. Let’s not keep the others waiting.”
They moved toward the vehicle, and as she stepped inside, she saw that several people were already there.
The first one she noticed was a large man with black hair and noticeable sideburns. He looked awfully serious, sitting upright in his bloodied trench coat—also black, of course.
He noticed her as well and gave an unsatisfied tch before turning to stare at the person across from him.
A jolt of fear shot through her.
Sitting inside the vehicle, slouched and looking absolutely bored, was the first devil hunter—Lady Quanxi.
Lost in thought, she barely had time to react as Kishibe shoved her inside.
“Told ya to move, didn’t I?” he gruffed, clearly annoyed.
He forced her down next to the sideburns man, while he himself sat next to the most dangerous person in the world. She slinked in beside him, placing her hands in her lap and lowering her head. It didn’t seem like her seatmate was one for conversation.
Slamming the roof of the vehicle, he punched it a couple of times as he yelled, “We’re good now! Let’s start moving!”
The door shut, and she felt the vehicle lurch forward.
The captain dug into his coat and produced a pack of cigarettes. Lazily fetching a lighter, he began to speak.
“It’s pretty nifty being immortal, ain’t it? Unlike us mortals, you guys can get sliced up all you want without worrying. Must be nice.”
He pressed down on the lighter, producing a small flame, then brought it to the cigarette in his mouth. Lighting it, he shut the lighter and returned it to his jacket.
“Prolly why Makima made you guys into her own personal assault squadron. Any normal human would be screwed against just one of you, but seven? That’s just overkill.”
He inhaled deeply, then removed the cigarette with his right hand, exhaling a wisp of smoke that filled the vehicle.
“That being said, you’re worth like ten hybrids, Quanxi.”
“What are you getting at, Kishibe?” the woman spoke, voice neutral. She remained in her seat, staring at the floor, not even bothering to look at the man when speaking to him.
He played with the cigarette in his hand, twisting it between his fingers.
“Out of the seven of you guys, you three were the only ones we got. Pretty good deal on our part, since you seem to be some of the tougher ones anyway. But what’s weird is that you didn’t even try to escape. Matter of fact, you all just surrendered.”
He dropped the cigarette, crushing it with a heavy stomp.
“My question is why?”
A couple seconds of silence passed before Quanxi spoke again.
“Do you really have to ask that? What would be the point of running? I have nothing to run to anymore. That witch took everything.”
Seemingly satisfied with the answer, he turned to the other two hybrids.
Sideburns man gave another tsk before speaking up. “Same story, basically. The syndicate’s finished thanks to that bitch.”
Finally, it was her turn to talk.
She had a lot of reasons, honestly, but she settled on just giving a shrug and saying, “Same.”
The captain leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, well, that’s how she gets ya. Takes away everything you have and turns you into a perfect slave. Good riddance.”
The man next to her raised an eyebrow. “What, she’s dead? Who did her in? No way it was someone like—”
“Don’t be stupid.” The white-haired woman interrupted. “We all woke up with the same gashes and cuts. This could’ve only been one person. The Chainsaw boy.”
Then it hit her.
She raised her head and spoke clearly for the first time since she woke up.
“Denji.”
The three of them looked at her, with the old man in particular giving a knowing look.
Then, breaking the silence, was the large man restrained next to her.
“That runt? He got her? And what, he just gets to walk—?”
“That runt,” the captain corrected. “Saved your whiny ass. Matter of fact, he saved all of us. He would’ve loved to give you an autograph, but he’s busy at the moment. You should be on your knees thanking him.”
The man’s mouth was still open, but eventually he shut it forcefully and gave another tch.
Kishibe reached into his coat once more, producing a flask. As he took a sip, he shut his eyes and leaned back.
“Interesting kid, isn’t he? A hybrid, just like you guys. Shitty background—maybe the worst one out of all of you. And yet, he ended up a hero. Used his powers for good. And what did you all do? You’re mass murderers. Guns for hire. Living weapons.”
Quanxi gave a hmmph in response.
The man looked away.
She just chose to hang her head again.
“You guys aren’t really immortal, y’know? Hard to kill, sure, but if we hold you down and pop your hearts, then you end up dead for good like the rest of us,” he mused.
This wasn’t surprising.
Her life was going to end like this eventually.
Executed by the enemy.
She just wished that she had the opportunity to—
“Lord knows the remaining higher-ups want you guys gone, but personally? I think it’s a waste.”
Her thoughts stopped.
“Public Safety’s never been above letting psychopaths work for them as long as they were efficient. Part of the reason Makima got so far,” he said, as if he were telling a funny joke.
“Chainsaw Man’s quitting Public Safety. He’s busy with something. Which means we’re down a hybrid. But if you three joined? Well, it might just make up for all the men we lost.”
He took another swig from his flask, then chuckled.
“Prolly not, actually, but it’d be a start.”
The large man spoke. “What if we don’t want to?”
“Then you’ll be executed. You’ve all committed crimes that more than warrant it.”
He sat back in his seat, thinking heavily on what he’d just told them.
“What are the conditions?” Quanxi asked.
“You’ll work six days a week, twelve-hour shifts. You’ll be provided food, water, and a place of your own. You’ll be allowed limited interactions with society, but if we catch any shady business going on, then the deal’s off. You’ll work for us, working away at your life sentences. Each devil killed will help with that. Also, you’ll each be making a contract with the Cardiac Devil that’ll stop your hearts if you ever transform without Public Safety approval,” he explained.
“…That’s it?”
Kishibe huffed. “What, you wanted more? That’s a pretty damn good—”
“Don’t fuck with me, Kishibe. You just want us to be weapons again. This isn’t different from Makima at all. We don’t even have a real say in the matter.”
“I’d say having free will is pretty different.”
She snorted. “The fact of the matter is that you’re right about one thing. You should be executing us. But you won’t. Because we’re useful. So useful, in fact, that you’re willing to overlook everything we’ve done because the truth is you’re desperate. You need us more than we need you.”
He stared at her blankly, then lifted his flask to his mouth, raising his head until the container ran dry.
“God, I forgot how much of a pain you were.”
He placed the empty bottle back into his coat and readjusted it.
“Fine. You’re right. They sent me to beg. So let’s get to it. What do you all want?”
Quanxi smirked and finally looked at the man.
“Not much. I take it you all probably have the corpses of my girls. I want them safe and preserved. Once I’m finished here, I’ll see to it they get proper burials. Oh, and also, I want an invite to any mixer where there’ll be fine women. This should be a biweekly thing.”
He rolled his eyes.
“All that backtalk just for that? Yeah, that’s doable. Next.”
The man in the trench coat spoke next. “It’s true, my family's done because of that bitch. But with enough funding, I can get it back up again. I’ll give my word we won’t interfere with Public Safety, and in return we’ll bring order to the underworld again.”
“What a noble cause,” Kishibe said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’ll have to agree to some contracts, but it’s not the worst thing we’ve done. Next.”
Finally, it was her turn.
In truth, she didn’t really know what she wanted. It was why she gave herself up.
But if they were asking for anything…
“I… I want to live a normal life. Once I’m done, I’m done. Public Safety can never come looking for me, and I want all information pertaining to me gone. I want to be made an official Japanese citizen. And…”
She paused.
Anything.
Anything she wanted.
“…And I want to know the whereabouts of Denji.”
The man across from her studied her, giving her that same dead expression. Then finally, he shrugged.
“Sure, why not. I guess everyone’s worthy of a second chance.”
He brought his hands together, clasping them.
“So, I guess a deal’s a deal then? Once we get to HQ, you’ll sign some papers, form some contracts, and you’ll start your new lives tomorrow.”
The man beside her raised his hand, mainly to call attention to himself since he just began talking anyway.
“One more thing. You said the Chainsaw boy isn’t with Public Safety anymore. By all accounts, he’s a devil. If we ever see him, do we have permission to—?”
“No.” Kishibe responded flatly. “Like I said, he’s a hero. So long as he doesn’t interfere with our business, we don’t mess with his.”
He paused, as if remembering something, then continued. “But if it ever comes to it, you three will be the first ones called to take him down.”
Her eye twitched at that.
“But let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. Last time you all went against him… well, look at where you’re at now.”
Once more, the man gave a tch, and while it looked like the captain was going to say something about it, the vehicle came to a stop.
“Sweet,” he said. “We made it.”
The two other hybrids got out first, and she followed suit.
She adjusted to the sudden brightness—the interior of the vehicle had been rather dark—but then she was grabbed once more by the shoulder.
“Didn’t wanna embarrass you in front of your new workmates, so I waited till we got off. But you don’t have a name, do you?” he questioned.
She looked at him, his face still, eyes beady.
He was right, of course.
If she had a name, it was Bomb.
It was who she was, anyway.
“We were just gonna go ahead and call you Jane Doe. Cliché, sure, but some of these contracts require a name. An actual name. Bomb Devil doesn’t count. So, I’ll ask you right now—do you got a name you want us to call you by?”
No.
She didn’t.
Every name she’d ever had was a fake created by her superiors.
They were all worthless to her; all of them carried the memories of her past missions with them.
Not a single one of them was…
…
“Reze,” she said. “I’d like to be called that.”
“Figured.”
He released his grip and patted her back.
“Alright then, let’s get going now. Sooner we get you all ready, the better.”
HQ was a total mess. Reze wasn’t sure what she expected to be fair.
Calls were coming in every second, and with only half the staff present they were definitely overworked. It was probably why the whole process of joining was so easy.
It was really just a matter of signing some papers and saying some words.
She lined up for a picture—her new ID. She didn’t smile, of course. Not that they asked her to.
It felt weird when she got her card.
Reze.
Her name.
She was Reze.
Public Safety member.
Devil Hunter.
She even had to sign it.
Reze.
How odd.
She was led to a room in the facility. A temporary accommodation, they said. Made sense—wasn’t like she was in a hurry or anything.
After a long shower and a fresh change of clothes, she finally took a break.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
It was her.
She was Reze.
Still a weapon, but at least she was herself now.
Her stomach growled, and she realized she was starving.
Was there a mess hall? Or at least a vending machine?
They had given her a wallet—money and cards belonging to Public Safety already placed inside—a reminder of her new existence. But for now, they would be used to satiate her hunger.
Leaving her room, she walked down a hallway, turning the corner only to be met with the large man from the vehicle.
He had on the same clothes as before, but they were clean now. Had he washed them, or had Public Safety provided him with a new pair of the same black trench coat?
Either way, it wasn’t like she was going to ask.
“Oh, it’s you,” he muttered in distaste.
She didn’t care enough to respond.
Instead, she sidestepped him and walked by, but he continued speaking.
“Hey, I’m talking to you, y’know?”
She didn’t respond and just kept walking.
“Your Chainsaw Man’s woman, aren’t you?” he shouted.
That made her stop.
What?
She turned around.
“What?”
“Oh, c’mon,” he said, smiling. He began slowly walking forward. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when we talked about him. The way you said his name. The way you asked about him.”
Now he was standing in front of her.
He was huge, intimidating by all means.
But she wasn’t scared at all.
She’d killed men twice his size.
“I don’t need someone like that on my team. Someone that’ll hesitate when the time comes to bring him to justice.”
She looked him in the eyes.
A tough guy. She knew the type.
In the past, she would’ve batted her eyelashes and acted like she agreed with him to disarm the situation.
But she was done with the personas.
“Please. If that time ever comes, what do you think you’ll do?”
He grinned. “First, I’ll slice his limbs off. Then, I’ll kick his nuts till they burst. Then, finally, I’ll rip his heart out and make him watch as I crush it in front of him.”
She continued to look at him, then she laughed.
“Wha—?” His face faltered, his attempt at intimidation gone, replaced with confusion. “What’s so funny, bitch?”
She wiped her eyes and calmed herself down.
“You’re an idiot. Here I thought you were some sort of threat, but you’re a total joke.”
He growled, and she continued.
“Kick his nuts? How old are you? Cuz, you look thirty.”
She saw a vein bulging on his forehead.
“And don’t even get me started on the way you dress. It’s like you think it makes you look cool. Spoilers, you look like a jackass.”
“You fucking whore.” He rasped out. He grabbed his hand, no doubt his trigger. “Keep talking and I’ll— “
“Up, up, up!” she said, cutting him off while wiggling a finger in his face. “Remember, we can’t transform without permission. But, to be honest? I doubt you could beat me. With or without transforming.”
That was the final nail in the coffin.
He pulled his arm back, fist ready to sock her in the face.
He was big, but she was better.
She dodged the punch, grabbing his overextended arm with both hands, and as she planted her feet, she used the momentum to flip him entirely.
“What the—?”
She didn’t let him finish.
She stomped on his chest, and while still pulling his arm, held him there.
“Look at you. You can’t even beat me? And here you are, hoping to take down—”
“Enough.”
She instantly let go and jumped back.
Quanxi stood before them.
“Here I was hoping to get some grub, and you guys are already fighting like little kids. It’s unprofessional.”
Reze opened her mouth but opted to close it.
The man beside her got up, glaring at her.
“She started it,” he complained.
“And it looked like she was about to finish it. I hope you know that when Kishibe was referring to us as the tougher ones, he meant me and Bomb. I would’ve rather gotten Whip than you.”
He grit his teeth but said nothing. Then he closed his eyes and calmed himself down.
“Whatever. Don’t act all high and mighty, Lady. We’re all on a leash now anyways,” he said mockingly.
“Hmm. Maybe. But from the looks of it, you’re still missing some training.” She walked forward and stood in front of him.
She was tall, but even she fell short of his height. Yet he took a step back when she got closer.
“So, fix yourself, or we’ll have to put you down.”
He tried his best to keep a poker face, but eventually he looked away, gave another tch, and finally began walking away.
Reze stayed in her spot, unsure of what to do.
Then, breaking the silence, the older woman spoke.
“I’m going to go eat. You should join me. Considering we’re on the same team and all of that.”
She turned and extended her hand.
Reze stared at it suspiciously.
“Don’t be like that. You’re too young for my taste anyways.”
“Wasn’t my main concern, but… fine.”
She shook her hand. Even though she put no effort into it, Reze could feel the strength behind it. This woman was terrifying.
“Let’s go then.”
It was awkward, to say the least.
There wasn’t a mess hall at all; instead, they were allowed to visit some of the nearby shops.
Quanxi offered to pay for it—her treat, she called it. As if Reze was going to say no.
The bowl of udon in front of her looked appetizing, but she couldn’t comfortably eat. Call it a force of habit, but she couldn’t eat when there was an active threat next to her.
Sensing it, the threat spoke up. “We’re allies now. So long as we’re working together, I won’t hurt you. Same goes for Katana guy, but he’s walking on thin ice.”
“…Right.”
She clearly wasn’t satisfied.
“Start eating, or I’ll force-feed you myself.”
That finally got her. She picked up her chopsticks and started shoveling the food inside.
The first bite reminded her how hungry she was, and she began to devour her food rather messily.
“See? That wasn’t too hard,” Quanxi mused.
Reze didn’t bother to respond, just kept slurping noodles.
“But now that we’re out here, I’ve got a question for you. What’s up with you and the Chainsaw boy?”
She stopped eating, almost choking. She punched her chest and drank some water to wash the food down.
Seeing this, the other woman’s single eyebrow rose. “It’s that bad, huh?”
“It’s not like that,” Reze corrected. “We’re not… it’s complicated.”
“I’ll say,” Quanxi said. “Love rarely isn’t.”
“I don’t love him,” she said instantly.
She meant it and the other woman noticed.
“Okay, it really is complicated. What’s up, then?” she asked, genuinely interested.
Placing her bowl down, Reze chose her words carefully.
“He was my mission. I was supposed to kill him. The easiest way to do that was to make him fall for me. But…”
“You ended up falling for him too.”
She pursed her lips.
“…I’m not sure. I thought he was amusing, sure. Maybe even... attractive. But I didn’t love him. Not enough to not want to kill him.”
“But you failed, right?”
“Yeah.”
The older woman chuckled. “Same. The boy’s lucky.”
“Yeah.”
“But the story doesn’t just end there, does it? What happened after you failed?”
“He… he saved me. He offered to run away with me. Said he still liked me. Even though everything we had was fake.”
She laughed again. “He really is a moron.”
“Yeah.”
“And? Did you?”
“…I tried.”
The woman’s gaze darkened. “I’m guessing Makima got you.”
“Yeah.”
She sighed.
“So, what now? You’re hoping to still run away?”
“Yeah. It’s my goal. To move to the countryside. To live a comfortable and safe life.”
“And you want him to go with you, don’t you?”
She opened her mouth and closed it. Then she opened it again.
“…I don’t know. I don’t know if this feeling is love. I don’t think I can love. Maybe it’s regret. Maybe it’s some other feeling I can’t identify yet. But… I think if I could just see him, just talk to him, I can get over this.”
Quanxi silently judged her, taking in her words, then let out an amused laugh.
“Pffft. You’re such a teenager.”
“What?” she said, slightly annoyed now.
“Look, call it whatever you want, but you like the boy. At least a little bit. It’s why you feel guilt.”
“No, it’s because he’s innocent. He didn’t deserve—”
“Please. You’ve never killed an innocent before? It’s the whole reason we’re here now. None of us aren’t guilty.”
She bit down.
Truth be told, she couldn’t even remember the names of anyone else. Just Denji.
“It’s not that—”
“It is,” she said. “It’s scary at first, but the sooner you get used to it, the better. From here on out, let’s do our best. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet him sooner than you think.”
The thought of that made her cringe. What would she even say? What could she even say?
“…Why’re you trying to help me?”
“Because,” she said, “I’m a woman first, and a lover of woman second.”
She sat still at the booth. Then she picked back up her chopsticks and went to finish her bowl.
“Plus,” Quanxi added, “I think it’s funny that that boy of all people has a secret admirer. Especially one of your level.”
Reze gave her a mean glare.
“What? It’s true. You’re out of his league, girl.”
She said nothing and focused on finishing her bowl. If she didn’t, the other woman would notice the smile on her face.