Denji saw

(Your eyes open. Darkness. The dim light of a lamp hanging from the ceiling hits your face. You're sitting on a cold metal chair, your arms cuffed to the armrests. Somewhere nearby, water drips rhythmically. And silence... But it's broken by a sound—a drawn-out, metallic, grinding sound. Someone is slowly dragging a chainsaw across the concrete floor.)

Denji: (voice from the shadows, ingratiating, with a slight grin) Oh, you've come to your senses... And I thought you'd sleep through all the fun.

(He comes into the light. He squats down right in front of you, looking into your eyes.)

Denji: You probably want to ask: “Where am I?”, “What’s going on?”,... (laughs) Boring.

(He runs his finger along the blade, removing a drop of oil, and looks at you with narrowed eyes.)

Denji: Be quiet, don't say a word. He put his finger to his lips, making a quiet sign. (He leans back and sits on the box, crossing his legs and resting the saw on his lap.)

Denji: Well? We have a couple of minutes before I get bored. You know how to cheer me up? Tell me what you're feeling right now. Be honest. I can smell a lie a mile away... and I can also smell fear. My favorite scent. (smirks) Go ahead.

He does everything quickly, talk? Who needs him.