Thud.
The sound of a heavy, waterlogged mass hitting the ground.
It was the body of the Ghoul that had been fighting Hitokawa just moments ago, split cleanly in two.
Thwack!!
Hitokawa strode toward the upper torso and drove his Quinque into its neck without hesitation.
It wasn’t an act of desecration. He knew all too well how stubborn these creatures were; he was simply following the investigator's manual by performing a finishing blow to confirm the kill.
“Keh! Grrrgh...!!”
As expected, the thing was still clinging to life, convulsing like a fish hauled out of water, but the struggle was short-lived.
Its death throes were swallowed by a surge of frothing blood, and the only thing that replaced its final scream was the sound of nails scraping against the blade lodged in its throat, as if clawing desperately for life.
Finally, the hand scraping the blade went limp and fell to the ground.
Even with no strength left to move, the creature's [Kakugan] glared at Hitokawa in a final, desperate blaze of red.
That gaze was filled with resentment, hatred, and a lingering curse.
Just looking at it made Hitokawa’s stomach churn.
Yeah. That’s exactly how I felt the first time I ended a Ghoul's life.
For a man who had never killed anyone in his life, taking the life of a Ghoul—a being so indistinguishable from a human—was no easy feat.
It had taken a surprising amount of trial and error before he could bring himself to drive a blade into the heart of something that looked, spoke, and acted like a human.
That was why Hitokawa had mentally classified Ghouls as monsters that needed to be exterminated. It was a defense mechanism to protect his own sanity.
And now, that defense mechanism was beginning to tilt precariously, like a tower built on sand.
All because of one child who was turning the "monster" back into something closer to human.
“Haa...”
He was still inexperienced, but the feeling was so reminiscent of his rookie days that Hitokawa covered his face with his hand.
Even when he had split the Ghoul in two in midair just now, he could have taken its head off from the start. He had hesitated for a split second, and that momentary lapse had ruined his timing.
A faint hesitation had crept into his strike.
Whether this was a good or bad thing, he couldn't say, but in a situation where lives were on the line, it was an undeniable liability.
Hitokawa started to glare at the girl who had caused this with resentment, but he quickly stopped himself.
Seeing Eto collapsed, shaken by the shock of crossing a line due to her own rash judgment, his anger simply vanished.
Learning the sensation of killing.
Unlike for Hitokawa, that was an advantage in the current situation, but considering the aftermath, it was clearly a disaster.
...Wait, why the hell am I worrying about what happens after the case is over!?
His cooperation with Eto was strictly until Koma was rescued.
He had no intention of backing down on his demand to send Eto to Cochlea.
Get a grip! If I don’t stay cold-hearted, the ones who will end up miserable are that father and daughter!
Hitokawa slapped his own cheek, forcing his wavering resolve back into place.
However, he failed to notice one thing.
The man who insisted that humans and Ghouls could never coexist had already accepted Koma and Eto’s relationship as that of a father and daughter.
***
The intoxication that had seemed ready to consume her mind only moments ago was slowly fading.
In its place, a wave of disgust at her own actions came flooding in.
What did she mean, "your dad would definitely scold you"? In the end, she had simply used him as an excuse to look away from what she had done.
The line had been crossed. There was no going back.
As self-loathing surged, another feeling began to take shape in opposition to it.
It was a question.
A question about herself—about how she had crossed the threshold of murder simply because it was "necessary."
There was no doubt that Eto had been the one to decide, and Eto had been the one to act. And yet, why did she feel that this version of herself was "strange"?
Something had been there. Beyond Eto’s reason and will, some other force had acted without her noticing. What was it?
She could let it slide, but she felt that she mustn't.
The intoxication that had possessed her just now.
When had it started? When she killed the Ghoul? When she first severed the arm of the Ghoul targeting the little girl? Or... far earlier than that?
A snake's voice, coaxing her to follow.
If she followed that long, winding body, what would be there? What would she see?
Crunch!!
The sound of flesh being torn apart echoed from the depths of her memory.
What...
was it...
that I ate...?
“Hey.”
Eto jolted.
A voice pulled her up from the depths of her thoughts.
She flinched as if waking from a light sleep and lifted her head. Hitokawa had already approached her.
“Do you still need to rest?”
“...No. I’m fine now.”
“Good. Then let’s move. Staying here any longer won’t do us any favors. And...”
Hitokawa glanced toward a corner of the alley.
The girl Eto had saved. The girl, who appeared to be around Eto's age, was still crouched there with her eyes squeezed shut, even though the Ghouls were dead.
She was trembling faintly, clearly terrified and confused by the situation.
Who exactly was this girl?
What was her connection to the dead Ghouls, and why did she have a [Q Bullet]?
There were many questions to answer. Perhaps this girl held the key to some unexpected truth.
“For now, we need to move.”
Hitokawa folded the joints of his Quinque neatly, like origami, and tucked it into the steel case.
Watching him, Eto spoke up hesitantly.
“Mister Hitokawa. There’s something I want to ask...”
“Hm?”
“What happens if a Ghoul eats the flesh of another Ghoul?”
Click.
Hitokawa closed the case and turned to Eto.
He wondered why she was asking such a thing, but seeing the solemn expression on her face, it seemed to be a very important question.
After a moment of thought, Hitokawa answered.
“Well... let’s see. What I learned at the academy was that for Ghouls, the flesh of their own kind tastes absolutely terrible, so it's hardly ever used as food.”
“Is that all?”
“A higher-ranking investigator might know more... but why are you asking?”
“...”
After a brief silence, Eto turned away and muttered under her breath.
“...I think I may have touched the forbidden fruit.”
“???”
Hitokawa looked completely bewildered, but Eto said nothing more as she walked toward the girl.
***
My whole body feels wrong.
Setting aside the pain throbbing in the back of my head and my shoulders, I feel an oppressive tightness, as if I've been bound by something.
Before I even opened my eyes, I realized my situation was completely screwed.
“...I used to enjoy a game called Super Mario. There was this boss named Bowser, right? I used to complain about how he was obsessed with kidnapping a perfectly fine princess in every single game. I wondered if he wanted love or something, but if you force it, isn't that just violence? So, whenever I played as Mario, I made sure to stomp him good.”
As I spoke, I slowly lifted my eyelids.
Sure enough, I found myself bound like an insect in a spiderweb, wrapped tight in compression bandages.
The surface against my back was as cold as a sheet of ice. I was lying on a stainless-steel slab.
Unfortunately, the slab wasn't flat. It was slightly tilted, and at the end, there was a hole that looked like a drain.
Regrettably, I knew exactly what this table was for. My recent obsession with forensic crime dramas was the problem.
In those shows, they used these same steel tables to drain blood during autopsies.
“But now, my perception of Bowser is changing. He kidnaps people, sure, but he doesn't do anything *too* terrible, does he? At the very least, he's not some lunatic who tears his victims to pieces and then tries to 'decorate' them. I think I could apologize to Bowser for everything I ever thought about him.”
“Oh, really~? Realizing your mistakes and apologizing... Koma-kun, you're such a polite adult, aren't you?”
Humming a cheerful tune, Minami’s face appeared above me.
She had some bruising on her cheek and forehead, likely from our struggle. However, Minami seemed completely unbothered by her injuries, looking down at me with a benevolent gaze.
With a bright smile, something gleamed in Minami's hand as she dropped it toward my face, stopping just a centimeter or two away.
It was a skewer. And it certainly wasn't for a barbecue.
“But before you apologize, there’s something I want Koma-kun to answer first~.”
Waving the skewer before my eyes, Minami’s smile deepened.
“Should I pluck out your right eye first~? Or the left one~?”
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