Ghoul.
Its origin lies in Arabic mythology, where it was used to refer to a monster that fed on corpses.
Myths and legends are usually worn down by the passage of time, and yet for some reason, this one name—Ghoul—has survived into modern society.
Its meaning had grown even more specific than simply a corpse-eating monster.
A monster that hides among people in human form, and cannot survive unless it feeds on human flesh.
In modern times, they are called Ghouls.
**
The first thing he saw was darkness.
Then came the sound. The faint movement of a rat traveling through the sewer echoed low against the concrete walls.
Then came the stench. In a place where no fresh air reached, only the thick smell of mold lingered.
A dark, grim, foul place.
A place ordinary people would never go near.
But by the same token, there were those who had no choice but to draw close to such places precisely because they were anything but ordinary.
Step. Step.
A figure walked deeper into the sewer.
A coat gone black with grime and a hood pulled low over the head. At a glance, he looked more like a homeless man than anything else.
But a normal homeless man would never come this far underground.
Under the hood, narrow slit eyes were filled with vigilance toward everything around him.
Step.
The man suddenly stopped walking.
...He sensed someone behind him.
"...!!"
Whoosh!
He spun around violently, and his coat flared out.
Inside the billowing coat, something reddish flashed by, and in the man's wide-open eyes, a light like a flame flickered for an instant.
But before he could unleash it, he recognized the figure behind him and stopped moving.
"Kuzen, was that you?"
It was an acquaintance of his.
A man in a stiff suit and a luxurious fedora, utterly out of place in a place like this.
The fedora-wearing man had approached without a sound or a trace of presence, but the slit-eyed man seemed used to it and let it pass.
"Is that the child?"
The slit-eyed man's gaze moved to the bundle cradled in the fedora-wearing man's arm.
Wrapped in soft cloth, it gave off a gentle, hopeful breathing sound, like a sprout pushing up from this desolate place.
"Would you take care of it for me?"
"Understood. I'll do my best to raise it well."
"I'm sorry. For asking you to take on something like this."
"No. Compared to the debt I owe you, this is nothing..."
As he spoke, the slit-eyed man reached out both arms to receive the bundle the fedora-wearing man was offering.
That was when it happened.
Thud!
""...!!!""
Blood suddenly sprayed out.
Something pierced through the slit-eyed man's chest, and the fedora-wearing man slapped away, with a swift motion, something that had been lunging for the bundle.
"H-How...?"
The slit-eyed man looked down at the hole blown through his chest, then followed the fedora-wearing man's gaze and turned to look behind him.
This was supposed to be a place where only the two of them existed.
No one was supposed to know. No one was supposed to come.
And yet, from the far end of the wide passage, more than one presence could be felt.
A mechanical, sly, blasphemous mass was approaching.
"So we finally found you, Kuzen."
Chew, chew.
From the center of the black shadow draped across the corridor, a man walked out, making an openly vulgar chewing sound.
He wore the same style of fedora as the man called Kuzen, but the red gaze visible beneath the brim was not the kind that looked upon an ally.
"Kuzen!! Run!"
The slit-eyed man, with his chest pierced through, still forced together what little will he had left and blocked the advancing shadows.
"Noroi! No!"
"Go now! You can't fight like this! Think about what you're holding in your arms!"
Kuzen tried to step forward, but at his friend's words he stopped.
In Kuzen's arms.
Unaware of the malice pouring toward him, a soft, sleeping breath could be heard from the bundle cradled there.
His friend was right.
He could not fight like this.
"...I'm sorry."
"Don't be sad. It's not as though either of us were ever meant to live out our days in comfort."
Giving his friend one last smile, the man called Noroi threw himself at the approaching shadows.
KABOOOOOM!
Leaving behind the exploding blast and murderous intent, Kuzen ran and escaped that place.
The friend he had trusted had been exposed to the enemy.
Then what remained was...
"...Only that child."
Breaking free of the sewer's darkness, Kuzen launched himself toward the city's nightscape.
Like an owl cutting through the night sky.
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