The Vixen's Gambit: Tonight We Hunt

"Denji, what were you doing running off like that?"

When Denji returned home, he was met with puzzled inquiries.

"Uh, I don't know..." Denji scratched his head.

Yeah, everyone had come to celebrate his birthday, so why had he run off?

He looked at the large cake. It was definitely made specially for him. The slightly messy frosting suggested it wasn't store-bought, but homemade. Someone must have spent a long time on it. He'd never had anything like this before... He vaguely recalled something similar from the past, but he hadn't gotten to eat it then, had he?

Whatever. It was his birthday. He should be happy.

"...Let's cut the cake."

For some reason, Denji just couldn't muster any joy.

Was he being too melodramatic? His friends and family were all here, they'd thrown a party and gotten him gifts, so why this lingering emptiness?

He felt a deep unease, a hollowness in his chest.

It felt like even Pochita was sad…

"Power, this big piece is for you."

"Ah, uh-huh..." Power nodded glumly as Denji offered her a large slice of cake, but she made no move to eat it.

Given Power's personality, the fact that she hadn't devoured the entire cake the moment it appeared was already a testament to her restraint. But now...

"Sorry, Denji, I don't have much of an appetite." Power said dejectedly. "I feel… off. I don't know why."

In fact, it wasn't just Power and Denji. Most of the people in the room seemed subdued.

"It looks like today's not a good day for a celebration." Reze stood up tactfully, preparing to leave. "We'll come back to celebrate another day."

The guests began to filter out, until only three remained in the Hayakawa household.

Denji, Aki Hayakawa, and Power.

Power silently returned to her room and collapsed on her bed, while Denji sat listlessly in a chair, looking like he'd lost his soul.

"What's going on...?"

Aki Hayakawa was utterly perplexed. Just minutes ago, everyone had been cheerful and excited. Why this sudden shift in mood?

"I'll clean up."

Colorful streamers from the party littered the room, and various items needed to be put away. As Aki cleared the table, something caught his eye.

"...Why is there an extra place setting?"

"Hee hee hee..."

A strange giggle made Aki frown. His already sour mood worsened. "Future Devil, what are you planning?"

"I'm not planning anything. It's already too late for that." The Future Devil, resembling a cross-shaped branch, slowly materialized in Aki's vision. "I just find this amusing."

"I just wanted to let you know... something has changed. I'm not powerful enough to know what exactly, but..." A malicious glint flickered in the Future Devil's eye. "Your despair in the future will be very entertaining."

"Crazy."

Aki ignored the Future Devil's taunting laughter and tossed the extra place setting into the trash—

"—..." He hesitated, then retrieved it and placed it back in the cupboard.

Well, taking his frustration out on the dishes wasn't right...

Makima dismissed the bird that had been monitoring the Hayakawa household and sat alone in her dark office, lost in thought.

Shoko's parting words echoed in her mind.

Meet again in a new world?

Yes, if there was a human world and Hell, other worlds could exist.

If Shoko's disappearance meant she'd gone to another world… Makima's expression was unreadable.

While monitoring the world, Makima had noticed something strange: minor devils, like the Tomato Devil and the Pencil Devil, had suddenly vanished.

Not simply killed on Earth and returned to Hell, but completely disappeared, erased from both worlds as if devoured by Chainsaw Man. But devils consumed by Chainsaw Man ceased to exist, their concepts erased, like the War Devil, Nuclear Weapons, or anything related to alternative endings.

Yet, these devils' names remained. Their concepts still existed in the world – just like Shoko.

These minor devils didn't possess Shoko's wish-granting abilities.

If other worlds existed, did that mean these devils had been transported there, unable to return? And had Shoko also…?

It was a far-fetched theory, but it was Makima's only hope.

And she had some evidence to support it.

Makima looked at the rectangular object in her hand.

It appeared to be an electronic device, its front entirely covered by a touchscreen. Makima guessed it was something similar to a cellphone. Her animal spies had found it in a dark alley, abandoned.

But its technology was at least a decade ahead of anything currently available on Earth.

If it didn't come from this Earth, where did it come from?

"A new world..." Makima murmured, clutching the device.

"No matter where you are, no matter what you've become."

"I will find you."

The birthday party seemed to have been ruined.

Everyone had come to celebrate, excited and happy, but because of him, it had all fallen apart.

"Pochita, are you sad, or is it me...?"

Denji tossed and turned in bed, the unease in his chest lingering. With Pochita merged with his heart, he could no longer distinguish whose emotions were whose.

Whatever. He'd change into his pajamas and sleep. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning.

With that thought, Denji got up and opened his wardrobe.

"Huh? Where did this come from...?"

He pulled out a neatly folded pink shirt covered in bunny prints. He'd long outgrown this size, and the shirt was riddled with holes and faded. Why had he kept it in the center of his wardrobe?

Should he throw it away? As Denji pondered, an envelope fell out of the shirt.

"What's this...?"

Denji opened the envelope and shook it. A greeting card fell out.

[Happy Birthday, Denji]

[I should have given this to you two years ago. Sorry for the wait~]

[Go live the life you were meant to live. I believe it will be a happy one.]

[With love, ]

Besides the card, the envelope contained only a single sheet of paper.

It was an acceptance letter, addressed to Denji, from a school.

"School…?"

Denji had never attended school, and he'd always envied those who had – but he'd never mentioned this to anyone.

Not even Power or Aki.

"Who are you...?"

Denji's hands trembled. He'd never felt such a desperate need to know someone's identity.

But the sender's name on the card was blank.