Chainsaw Man:Reincarnted as Kobeni's brother

planning

Inside his dimly lit room, Ryota stared into space, lost deep in thought. Shadows danced on the walls as the world outside continued to turn, unaware of the storm brewing inside this man's mind.

He imagined the world witnessing their sins played out in the sky — a macabre theatre for all to see, the weight of their transgressions hanging above their heads. Would that shock them into self-reflection?

In a corner of his room, a vial of blood sat on a shelf, and it seemed to pulse with a life of its own. With it, he could weave a network of information, a silent and unseen web where every heartbeat could be monitored.

As he gazed at the vial, his thoughts wandered to the devils he could command, the might they held, and the changes they could bring. An army of devils, bending to his will, their powers instrumental in reshaping reality.

Ryota's fingers tapped rhythmically on his desk, considering the world leaders, the policies they set, and the strings he could pull. What if wars were prevented, alliances forged, a world restructured by his design?

He then thought of the military, the might they wielded, and how easily they could be swayed with just a drop of his blood. Their loyalty would be unwavering, with dissenters quickly silenced.

His gaze then shifted to a newspaper on his desk. The economic headlines screamed of recessions and inflations. What if wealth was redistributed, markets controlled, and an economy reborn under his directives?

Ryota picked up a book from his bed, a work by a famous academic. He pondered on the potential of molding minds, of shaping thoughts to align with a peaceful ideology. The pen, after all, was mightier.

As he pondered the world's populace, the norms, the behaviors, he envisioned a world where deviant tendencies were suppressed, where everyone marched to the beat of the same drum, their wills not their own.

A globe sat on his nightstand, and Ryota touched it, imagining a world merged, where the lines between human and devil were blurred. Such a world held dangers but also unparalleled power.

His reflections took a darker turn as he thought of the inevitable resistance, of those who would oppose his vision. Would they unite? And if they did, what then?

All these thoughts, these fragments of a grand design, flashed through Ryota's mind as he sat in his room

Ryota sat back, trying to process the myriad thoughts rushing through his mind. "Mere words," he whispered to himself, "are just sounds. They carry weight, sure, but humans have free will. And that free will can be the most unpredictable, chaotic force."

His fingers interlaced, resting on his lap. "I can try to put them under restrictions, but someone, someday, would defy those chains, just as I did."

He contemplated deeply, eyes slightly narrowed. "Fear is primal, the most basic of instincts. Flow, the art of taking the path of least resistance, and delusion, the art of seeing what one wants to see — they're human nature. And comfort... everyone seeks it. If I can manipulate these, if I can tie them into one cohesive force, I could... control."

But there was one significant obstacle. Now that he had transformed into a devil, he no longer had the luxury of making contracts with other devils. He had power, sure, but not the right kind.

His thoughts drifted to Makima, the Control Devil. Her unique abilities allowed her to manipulate other devils.

Ryota's brow furrowed in deep contemplation. "Makima... her powers, her control. I need her on my side." The stark realization hit him: while he had significant strength and influence, he lacked the specific abilities of the Control Devil — the very powers that could make his grand vision a reality.