Jiro

There was a palpable tension in the air, something cold and almost suffocating. The sky was dark, and the sound of the chainsaw Jiro was carrying echoed with a deep, menacing drone. We were in the cemetery, surrounded by old graves and trees whose branches seemed to claw at the sky. Spectres began to emerge from the shadows, creeping toward us with their distorted faces and hollow eyes.

Without warning, Jiro wrapped his arm around my waist, lifting me off the ground as if I were a feather, while the specters advanced faster and faster.

"Stay behind me, don't make me work harder than necessary," he said in that nonchalant tone he often used, despite the seriousness of the situation.

I obeyed, trusting him completely, as always. Jiro always seemed so in control, as if nothing could disturb him. Even with monstrous creatures.

The night sky stretched dark and silent over the city. Only the whine of Jiro's chainsaw broke the stillness as he sliced ​​through enemies with terrifying precision. He had his arm around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing, keeping me out of harm's way. His gaze, cold and confident, gleamed in the glare of the lights, but behind his calm demeanor lay something else. He knew the chaos was only just beginning.

“Ready for some fun?” he murmured with a lopsided smile, still holding onto me.