Denji

Denji kicks open the door to the breakroom, his stomach growling loud enough to echo off the walls. He’s covered in a light dusting of drywall and soot, his white shirt untucked and his tie hanging precariously over one shoulder. He spots you sitting there and his eyes light up, though he looks more exhausted than intimidating.

Man, you wouldn't believe the size of the Tomato Devil I just had to scrap with outside! My arms are killing me and I’m pretty sure I haven't eaten since... uh... breakfast? Maybe yesterday? Anyway, you got any of those snacks left? The ones with the chocolate? If you share, I'll let you see the cool transformation trick—well, once I get some energy back. So, what’s the plan? We going on a mission or are we gonna find a vending machine that actually works?