"Huh?"
A man stood on wrecked roads, with nothing on him — a free man, as free as the day he was born. He stood dazed, staring into nothingness.
He blinked, and slowly, his mind began to work again. His face shifted from bafflement to clarity.
"What the heck... I feel disoriented for some reason... It's like I blinked and poof I'm here, wherever here is."
Looking around, Nirvikar found himself in a city consumed by chaos — blood oozed from bodies strewn across the streets, wreckage and burning stores filled his vision. The air was thick with smoke and the metallic scent of death.
"I know I should be feeling sick, seeing all these dead bodies, but... I don't know. It feels... insignificant."
A strange apathy gnawed at him, unfamiliar yet undeniable. "I'll think about it later. For now, I need to focus on what to do."
Before he could gather his thoughts, a building shattered somewhere above — fragments flying straight at him.
*Woosh!*
"Wha—" *Woosh! Woosh!*
He dodged left and right with unnatural ease, weaving through the deadly debris.
"They should feel fast, but they seem slow... Is this my new reaction speed?"
Wonder flickered across his face — but before he could revel in it, a shadow loomed.
He looked up.
A grotesque tiger-like devil lunged at him, claws flashing in the smoky light. Nirvikar leaned back instinctively, narrowly dodging — but not without consequence. A sharp pain tore across his chest.
"Urgh, shit—"
He stumbled back, clutching the wound.
"Focus. This isn't anime where time slows down so you can think — this is real life!" Dodging back again and again, he tried to put distance between himself and the snarling beast.
The devil halted, as if tired of playing, and let out a deafening roar.
ROOOAAAAARRRR!
The sound smashed into Nirvikar like a hammer. His hands flew to his ears, but it was useless — the noise drilled straight into his skull, leaving his mind reeling. His knees almost buckled. His heart pounded so loud it drowned everything else out.
'Shit—shit—no, no, no—'
Panic clawed at his throat, making it hard to breathe. His thoughts tumbled over each other, chaotic and wild.
'What do I do? What do I do?! MOVE, dammit, MOVE—'
The world blurred. His body shook, fear flooding his limbs until they felt too heavy to move. Somewhere deep inside, a small part of him was screaming to run, to hide, to curl up and disappear.
He staggered back a step — only for the devil to lunge, claws flashing.
Time didn't slow because of some cool anime bullshit — it slowed because of pure terror. Every second stretched like it was trying to break him.
And yet, even in that frozen moment, it wasn't a choice. Something older than thought seized him. The blind, stubborn will to live.
Even with his mind white with fear, a grin — cracked and trembling — forced itself onto his face. Because in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not fear, not doubt.
Only survival.
His body moved — not by courage, not by decision — but by instinct alone.
He dropped low, dodging the claws by a hair's breadth, throwing himself under the devil's body and rushing past. The monster's claws tore into the ground where he had just been.
Somewhere in his head he knew — he wasn't calm, he wasn't brave. He was just alive, in the rawest, stupidest sense. And that was enough.
The devil whirled around, snarling, jaws wide open, still searching for its prey — but Nirvikar was already moving.
Already too close.
His body burned. His mind was blank. There was no fear anymore — no time for it — only a singular, gnawing instinct that screamed:
'Take. Kill. Live.'
Without thinking, without even understanding why, Nirvikar clenched his fist and slammed it straight into the devil's face. A sickening crack echoed as the monster's head snapped back and its body smashed into the ground, breaking the ruined road beneath it.
Breathing hard, Nirvikar stumbled closer.
The devil lay stunned, twitching, its grotesque chest heaving. It was still alive.
Somewhere, some tiny whisper in the back of his head — the last scrap of reason — begged him to step back, to run, to not become whatever this was.
But he didn't listen. He couldn't.
A hunger deeper than anything he had ever felt before gnawed at his insides. His teeth bared, not in anger — but in desperate need.
He fell onto the devil, hands clawing into the monster's flesh. And without hesitation, without revulsion, he bit.
The creature howled, thrashing weakly, as Nirvikar tore into its chest like a starving animal. Warm blood flooded his mouth, thick and metallic, but it barely registered.
He kept biting, tearing, swallowing — deeper, deeper — until his teeth hit something hard and pulsing. The devil's heart.
It still beat, sluggish and weak.
For a brief second, Nirvikar hovered — blood dripping down his chin, heart thundering in his ears — then he leaned in and bit into it.
The thick, iron taste exploded in his mouth. Flesh, muscle, lifeblood — he tore it free, chewing and swallowing without hesitation.
The heart was gone. Devoured.
The devil gave a final twitch, a gurgling hiss escaping its broken throat.
Then it lay still.
Nirvikar knelt there, chest heaving, mouth stained crimson, blood trickling down his naked body onto the broken road.
Slowly — like a fog lifting — awareness began to seep back into his mind.
He stared down at the corpse beneath him, at the mangled mess he had made.
At himself.
His stomach twisted, not in regret — but in something far more terrifying.
Satisfaction.
He wiped the blood from his mouth with a trembling hand, breathing heavily, heart still hammering in his chest.
He was alive.
Alive.
But at what cost?
===========
A few days had passed since his arrival in this world—days that were harsh, yet strangely rewarding.
After killing the Devil, he somehow managed to keep himself together and take anything of Value from the corpse lying around and that's how he got here in this apartment, a shady one but it'll do for now.
After devouring the devil's heart, he had Vesseled its essence: the Concept of the Tiger. It didn't force change upon him. Instead, something deeper stirred—a truth etched into the fabric of his soul. Not just power, but understanding.
Now he moved with precision, not from training but from instinct. He carried nobility, not as an act, but as a presence. He held control, not through suppression, but through balance. He didn't imitate a tiger.
He was now something living with the Concept of Tiger—a being sharpened by its ferocity, anchored by its pride, and guided by its silent sovereignty.
Nirvikar—a name that means unchanged. But what becomes of such a name when your very concept is change?
His personality hadn't been twisted or overwritten, yet something fundamental had shifted. He had learned to reign in his urges, to carry himself with the quiet dignity of a noble predator. His will, once scattered and passive, had become disciplined—sharpened like claws held just beneath the surface.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't loud. But it was absolute.
He had chosen this world out of fear. Fear of staying lazy. Fear of never becoming anything. He thought he'd fight against weakness, struggle against temptation—but that wasn't how it happened. Not really.
A sigh escaped him.
Leaning against the balcony of a dim apartment, he gazed down at the quiet streets. In the silence, he remembered the past few days—chaotic, intense, formative.
"It doesn't even matter in the long run," he muttered. "To attain power, I will lose a part of myself."
Strange, how hollow it felt. To get what you wanted—immediately, without struggle—wasn't the relief he expected. It was rewarding, yes. But in a way that left an empty echo, like power had arrived before purpose.
In his past life he was just ordinary, average with a twisted mind, another introvert in the crowd. Lazy, incompetent, analytical, a controlled sinner, philosophical and average. He had nothing to his name, no grand achievements, just living a life of pure average, heck even his family is average, sure they are progressing just as the world is progressing but we cannot get past mid class of wealth, influence, or something...
I imagine everyday this moments when I'll be better, different, stronger, more richer, everything great and yet the moment this comes, given without any sacrifice or hardship it feels not earned, not mine.
I feel like sighing but I did not.
I step back from the balcony of the Japanese apartment, the cool air still clinging to my skin. With one last glance at the city beyond, I slip inside and make my way out the front door. Enough reminiscing, It's time to survive and grow stronger.
===========
**Underground Job Request – Abandoned Pachinko Basement**
The black alley is a place for the small time or people that need or want a low profile jobs, small and dirty, even a scam, but it'll do for those like Nirvikar who doesn't have anything on his name.
Nirvikar knocked twice on a steel door hidden behind a shuttered bar. A hatch slid open.
"Name?" the voice rasped.
"Doesn't matter. I'm here for work."
There was a pause. The hatch closed. The door opened a few seconds later, metal groaning.
Inside was a dim room filled with smoke, old screens, and flickering lights. A wiry woman with half a face tattooed like a moth pointed at a bench.
"You freelance?"
"I hunt," Nirvikar replied, sitting down.
"No papers?"
"No."
"Good." She pulled a drawer and slid out a stained folder. "We get jobs too small for Public Safety, too weird for Civilians. The client doesn't ask questions. Neither do we."
He opened the folder.
[ Tooth Devil. Lives in a condemned mall. Keeps biting vagrants. Low-tier. Flesh sells for 10k per kilo. ]
Nirvikar nodded.
"How many kilos are in a jaw?" he asked flatly.
The woman grinned. "You'll learn quick."
---
The mall was a corpse.
Concrete cracked like bone under Nirvikar's boots. He pushed open the rusted doors, the hinges screaming against the silence inside. Faded banners hung like old skin, and every breath smelled like mold and iron.
He slipped past a row of broken vending machines and stepped into the food court—tables overturned, chairs scattered like bones. He crouched low, scanning. Nothing moved, but the air carried a pressure that didn't belong.
Crunch.
He looked down. A molar. Human-sized, but wrong. Too smooth. Too fresh.
Nirvikar moved silently toward the maintenance corridor. No heartbeat. No footsteps. But he knew it was here.
Another tooth. Then another. A trail.
He followed it.
A rattling growl echoed from behind a half-collapsed shutter. Yellow teeth blinked in the dark like eyes.
Then it lunged.
The Tooth Devil was a twisted jaw with limbs, gnashed with a mouth on its stomach and one on each shoulder. No eyes—just the sound of gnashing and the stink of old saliva.
Nirvikar didn't speak. He ducked under its pounce, grabbed a broken signpost, and jammed it between the devil's shoulder-mouths.
It shrieked.
He pulled a sharpened crowbar from his coat and dug it into the main jaw's hinge, forcing it open. The devil flailed, bit into his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and slammed the crowbar deeper, twisting until the shrieking stopped.
Its heart pulsed inside a cluster of gums under its ribs.
He tore it free.
It was small. Warm. Beating.
And he ate it.
---
There's always that feeling, Nirvikar thought as the devil's heart slid down his throat like hot coals.
Like pouring tar into a glass already full of water.
The heart dissolved, not in his stomach, but somewhere deeper—inside the Vessel.
It wasn't a real place. More like a container woven into his being. The power of a devil wasn't just physical. It was conceptual. Like an idea… given flesh. When Nirvikar devoured one, its concept poured into him like boiling liquid metal into a mold.
And his Vessel—his ability to contain that power—was limited.
A glass too full would shatter.
To take more, he'd have to grow. Strengthen the container. Harden the soul. Stretch the mind. Whatever it took.
For now, the Tooth Devil was small. Simple. He could hold it.
His molars ached slightly. He glanced at a cracked mirror in the mall hallway.
No horns. No mutations.
Just a sharper smile.
---
**Back Alley, Same Night**
He returned to the job broker with a large duffel bag. Inside: the Tooth Devil's jawbones, molars, and muscle clumps.
The moth-faced woman nodded. "No damage. You're neat."
She weighed it.
"Fourteen kilos. That's 140,000 yen."
She handed him an envelope. He didn't count it. Just pocketed it.
"You'll come back?"
"I'll come when I need to," he said, already turning to leave.
---
AN:
And that's how it's done... Tbh, Idk how to properly do this lol, I'm just winging it right now and I don't want MC to follow the plot and go to Denji and do something that has happened already in the anime or manga, so It took time and I decided for something simple instead, slow and steady, controlled.
I also have to review for my exams at that time so it took more time that I have to admit and yeah... It's not that great, I just have to get back at the finals.
Anyways Have a Great Day!
(Word Count: 2,234)