Kuroto felt as though fate had played a cruel joke on him.
Just last night he had been watching the raw chapters of Chainsaw Man Part 2, cursing Fujimoto for being a genius with a disturbingly twisted imagination.
Then he woke up.
Instead of his apartment, he found himself lying inside a cramped rented room.
On the small table beside the bed sat a printed work schedule labeled:
Second Way Coffee Shop
Two names were clearly written on the sheet.
Reze
Kuroto Shiranui
"..."
The silence was deafening.
It took Kuroto three full days to accept reality.
He wasn't dreaming.
He wasn't role-playing.
He had truly transmigrated into the world of Chainsaw Man.
A world where devils were born from humanity's fears.
A world where people could be torn apart in seconds by creatures that fed on terror.
A world where Reze would die.
More importantly, according to the fragments of memory left by the original owner of this body, the Bomb Girl arc had not yet begun.
There was still about one month before the story officially reached that point.
Which meant that Denji had not yet visited the coffee shop.
And Reze was still quietly carrying out her mission—
a Soviet-trained weapon disguised as an ordinary girl, waiting patiently for the opportunity to approach Chainsaw Man.
And Kuroto…
Was her only coworker.
"System? Cheat? Any kind of hack?"
Kuroto muttered cautiously into the empty room.
A line of cold mechanical text suddenly appeared in his mind.
[Regret Recycling System — Bound.]
[Core Mechanism:]
When the host personally rewrites a character's predetermined tragic fate, the wasted power contained within that fate will be converted into a demonic contract ability usable by the host.
This compensation will manifest as "Fate Compensation."
[The greater the tragedy concentration, the stronger the compensation.]
[Current recyclable target unlocked:]
Reze — Bomb Devil Hybrid
Tragedy Concentration Rating: SSS
Kuroto froze.
SSS-level.
He understood exactly how terrifying that rating was.
Reze.
A girl captured by the Soviet Union as a child and subjected to brutal experiments.
She had no childhood.
No family.
Not even a real name.
"Reze" was merely a mission code name.
She was raised as a weapon.
Sent to Japan as an infiltrator.
And when she finally met Denji, she almost—just almost—developed the desire to run away and live freely.
But that fragile hope was crushed.
She was intercepted and killed by Makima's forces before she could escape.
Later, she would be resurrected—
only to fall under Makima's control, reduced once again to nothing more than a tool.
From beginning to end…
That girl never lived a single day for herself.
Kuroto clenched his fist.
He wasn't some shōnen protagonist blessed with courage and destiny.
He was just an ordinary person.
So ordinary that before transmigrating, the thing that bothered him most about the manga…
Was Reze's ending.
But now he was here.
He knew the plot.
He knew the turning points of her fate.
So the question became:
What could he do?
The Next Morning — 7:00 AM
Kuroto pushed open the back door of Second Way Coffee Shop.
The store was small.
The décor looked outdated.
Behind the counter there was barely enough room for two people to stand.
The coffee machine hummed quietly, filling the air with the bitter aroma of cheap roasted beans.
Then he saw her.
Reze stood at the sink with her back facing him, carefully wiping a row of glass cups. Her short hair curled slightly at the tips, and her apron hung loosely around her waist.
When she heard the door open, she turned around and gave him a perfectly timed smile.
"Good morning, Kuroto."
Kuroto's heart suddenly began pounding.
Not purely because of attraction.
But because of something far more complicated.
He knew exactly what hid behind that smile.
It was trained.
A professional smile.
The kind of expression taught to an undercover operative who needed to appear "normal."
A smile belonging to a girl who had never truly experienced kindness.
"…Morning."
His voice came out slightly hoarse.
Reze tilted her head.
"You don't look very well today."
"Didn't sleep much."
"A nightmare?"
Kuroto forced a bitter smile.
Compared to a nightmare, transmigration was far more absurd.
"Something like that."
Reze didn't press further.
She simply turned back to continue wiping the glasses.
But Kuroto noticed something strange about her movements.
Every action was extremely precise.
The pressure of her fingers.
The rotation of her wrist.
The speed of her motions.
Everything looked like something that had been practiced hundreds of times.
Normal people didn't wipe glasses like that.
But normal coworkers wouldn't notice.
Kuroto inhaled slowly and stepped behind the counter.
This marked the first day of his new life in this world.
The shop wasn't busy.
Only seven or eight customers came throughout the morning.
Kuroto and Reze stood behind the counter side-by-side.
Most of the conversations were started by Reze.
Her disguise was flawless.
She talked about the weather.
A ramen shop that had opened nearby.
The news broadcast playing on television.
Every sentence sounded natural.
Like a friendly girl from the neighborhood.
But Kuroto knew the truth.
Reze had been trained in intelligence work.
"Building relationships with targets" was part of her education.
Everything she said was deliberate.
Calculated.
Including her interactions with him.
That realization made Kuroto feel uneasy.
"Kuroto," Reze suddenly asked, "what kind of coffee do you like?"
"Uh… Americano, I guess."
"With sugar?"
"No."
Reze smiled faintly.
"It's pretty bitter. Are you sure?"
"I'm used to it."
She prepared a cup and handed it to him.
Their fingers brushed slightly.
Cold.
Kuroto paused.
He looked up at her.
Reze had already turned her gaze away casually.
Her body temperature was lower than normal.
Devil hybrids like her possessed bodies that were no longer entirely human.
Kuroto took a sip.
The bitterness spread across his tongue.
But he said nothing.
Reze watched his expression.
Then she chuckled softly.
Not the polite laugh she used with customers.
A tiny, almost unconscious laugh.
Kuroto froze.
He had never seen that smile in the manga.
2:00 PM — Afternoon
The shop was empty.
Reze leaned against the counter absent-mindedly.
Kuroto pretended to scroll through his phone while his mind raced.
One month.
That was all the time he had.
In one month:
Denji would arrive.
Reze would approach him.
Then the stormy-night kiss.
The escape.
The battle.
And finally—
Death.
To change that future, Kuroto had to accomplish several things.
First:
Gain Reze's genuine trust.
Not the trust of a coworker.
But the trust of a person.
Second:
Make her want to live.
Not for a mission.
Not as a weapon.
But for herself.
Third:
Accomplish everything without attracting Makima's attention.
Fourth—
Survive.
The first three tasks were difficult.
But the fourth was the most important.
Because right now…
Kuroto was just an ordinary human.
No devil contract.
No combat training.
No supernatural abilities.
In this world, a normal person's life was as fragile as paper.
"What are you thinking about?"
Reze's voice suddenly sounded beside him.
Kuroto nearly dropped his phone.
She had approached without him noticing.
She stood very close.
Close enough that he could smell something faint.
Coffee.
And underneath it—
A trace of gunpowder.
"N-nothing."
Reze studied him for two seconds before stepping back.
"You're acting strange today."
"How?"
"You used to talk a lot. Today you're very quiet."
Kuroto's heart tightened.
Was the original owner of this body talkative?
Damn it.
He hadn't inherited enough memories.
"Maybe the nightmare affected me," he muttered.
Reze didn't pursue the topic.
But her gaze had changed slightly.
Not suspicion.
More like evaluation.
The look of a trained operative judging whether someone nearby was behaving abnormally.
Cold sweat spread down Kuroto's back.
He reminded himself:
Don't rush.
Right now Reze was still a weapon executing a mission.
Any sudden move would trigger her vigilance.
What he needed wasn't to heroically "save" her.
He needed to be like water.
Slow.
Unnoticeable.
Let her grow used to his presence.
Without even realizing it.
6:00 PM — Closing Time
Reze removed her apron and grabbed a canvas bag.
"See you tomorrow."
She turned back at the door and spoke in a neutral tone.
Like someone completing a routine social gesture.
Kuroto watched her slender figure disappear into the evening streets.
He knew she wouldn't go straight home.
She would first circle several blocks.
Confirm that nobody was following her.
Only then would she return to the safe house assigned by the Soviet handlers.
A place with no personal belongings.
No warmth.
Just a temporary shelter.
Alone.
"Reze."
Kuroto suddenly called out.
She stopped and looked back.
Kuroto opened his mouth.
Countless words gathered in his throat.
But in the end he only said:
"I'll bring snacks tomorrow. What do you like to eat?"
Reze paused.
The pause was extremely brief.
So brief that if Kuroto hadn't been watching her closely, he would have missed it.
"…Anything."
She turned and walked away.
Her steps were slightly faster than before.
Kuroto leaned against the doorframe and stared at the empty street.
Then he sighed.
Inside his mind, the system notification appeared.
[Weak emotional fluctuation detected in target: Reze.]
[Fate Deviation Value: 0.01%]
0.01%.
One month.
0.01%.
The road ahead was still long.
But at least…
It wasn't zero anymore.