There was a boy called the Grim Reaper.
On a street bathed in the glow of sunset, that boy stood there like a mirage.
Where had it all gone wrong?
Someone had reported us, who had been living among humans, as suspected Ghouls. The CCG launched an investigation and determined that we really were Ghouls.
And then they sent a boy to wipe us out.
He was still young enough to be wearing a school uniform, but I knew in a single exchange that he was not someone to take lightly.
My wife handed the two children over to me.
Touka and Ayato.
The fruit of our love.
I didn't know what was happening, but the frightened trembling of the children seeped through my skin.
My wife said she would buy us time and told me to run with the children.
She said she could hold them off and escape alone.
I trusted my wife.
She was strong, wise, and quick.
Because I believed she would definitely come back, I was able to flee with the children.
But my wife never returned.
After I had left the two children somewhere safe, I returned to that place, consumed by worry for my wife. All I found there was blood.
It had been scattered everywhere across the walls and floor like some malicious prank with paint—black and dried—but the scent clinging to it was my wife's.
My wife was not coming back.
When I realized that, I sank to the floor and howled.
It was my fault.
If I had been stronger, I could have fought while protecting the children.
I could have stayed and fought beside her instead of running.
If I had, the outcome would have been different.
It was all because I was weak.
"Don't try to make yourself feel better by blaming yourself."
I heard those words from my brother-in-law when I went to tell him about her death.
As if he could barely accept his sister's death, his face was twisted so badly it was painful just to look at.
"Yeah... Kirishima... It's because of you. Because of you, my sister—!"
He grabbed me by the collar and poured out his rage.
I couldn't shake off that hand for the same reason I couldn't push away a child crying over the loss of family.
"You... you should have died instead!!!!"
Yes. I should have died in her place.
I should have let her escape and stayed behind.
I couldn't do that.
It was all because I was weak.
I wanted power.
Power to protect my family.
For that, I could do anything.
From that day on, I began devouring Ghouls and Investigators wherever I found them.
Ghouls were essential nourishment for becoming stronger.
Investigators were foreign bodies that threatened the peace of my family.
I couldn't leave either of them alone.
But I never laid a hand on ordinary people who had nothing to do with the conflict.
The meat my children needed was sourced from the bodies of suicide victims.
Was it because of my wife's wish to live among humans after giving birth?
Just as she had wanted, I desired a world where our children could live peacefully.
So I taught them how to blend in, how to live like humans.
I clung to the hope that while a Ghoul is destined to lose their food, their family, and their peace, those who live as humans might not.
Then one day, that boy appeared again.
He had taken off his investigator uniform, but there was no mistaking him.
I could never forget that emotionless expression.
I wanted to rush at him right then and there, but I held myself back.
The two children were right beside me.
I didn't want to drag them into this world.
So first, I focused on sending them home.
"Dad, where are you going?"
I had tried to remain as calm as possible, but perhaps my turmoil leaked through my expression.
Or maybe she sensed something was wrong from how hurriedly I was acting.
As I prepared to head back out, my daughter stopped me with an anxious look.
Beside her, her younger brother held his sister's hand tightly, looking up at me with the same worried face.
I smiled and patted both of them on the head to reassure them.
"Dad has something important to do."
Yes. This was very important.
"I'll be back soon. You can wait with Ayato, right, Touka?"
"...Yeah."
Leaving Touka nodding behind me, I stepped out of the house.
My pace was normal until I left the front door. The moment I hit the road, I started running, and once I entered an alley hidden from public view, I began sprinting with a ferocity that felt as if I might take flight.
It was him.
The CCG's Grim Reaper, Arima Kishou.
He had returned.
Was it a coincidence? Or had he been hunting me?
Either way, it didn't matter.
What mattered was that he was threatening my family once again.
The danger had to be eliminated.
And conveniently, he was empty-handed. He wasn't prepared at all to face a Ghoul.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
A chance to avenge my wife.
I had repeated my feastings all this time for this very moment.
I'm going to devour him.
Not a single scrap will be left behind, so that I can reclaim every drop of my wife's blood that was splattered on him.
I'm going to devour him...!!!
***
An unexpected situation had arisen.
Hitokawa's original purpose was to determine whether the Butcher had a family.
Directly confronting the Butcher had not been part of the plan.
That was why they had left their Investigator uniforms and Quinque behind, relying on information that the Butcher had never attacked civilians.
The choice hadn't been wrong in principle.
However, Hitokawa had failed to account for one variable.
The name of that variable was "bad blood."
The Butcher, who would have passed by quietly if it had been anyone else, now bared his hostility and appeared before them because of one single person.
"I-I'm going to...!! Devour you...!! Every last drop of my wife's blood...!! I...!! I'll...!!!"
It was hard to believe this was the same mild-looking man they had met at the playground just moments ago.
His state was completely abnormal.
His eyes burned with Kakugan so intensely they looked as if they might melt out of their sockets, a deep, visceral red.
His long-suppressed emotions were pouring out all at once, making his words nearly unintelligible, and thick saliva dripped from his gaping mouth.
Human emotions rot from the inside if they are never expressed.
Just how much hatred had he been piling up inside himself to break this completely?
"Hey, Arima. Let me ask you one thing."
"What is it?"
"Can you beat a Ghoul without a Quinque?"
Hitokawa asked, breaking into a cold sweat.
They were in a narrow, isolated alley between buildings. There was barely any room to maneuver.
The passage was a straight line; trying to run back the way they came would be an invitation for the enemy to strike their backs.
Splitting up to confuse the enemy was impossible, and fleeing was out of the question.
The only option left was a head-on fight.
But a human without a Quinque was overwhelmingly disadvantaged against a Ghoul.
Their only hope was Arima.
They could only pray that this man, armed with inhuman physical ability and talent, was indeed the once-in-a-generation genius who could bring down a Ghoul barehanded.
"I have brought down a Ghoul without a Quinque before. Though I used an umbrella, not my bare hands."
"You actually have...?"
"An umbrella..."
Hitokawa and Hirako had asked in the hope of hearing something reassuring, but the answer was so absurd it left them speechless rather than relieved.
Did this man truly have no trace of normal humanity in him?
Sometimes Hitokawa even thought Arima was more detached from humanity than the Ghouls were.
"We don't have an umbrella now, but can you take that thing down?"
"If it were an ordinary Ghoul, I might have been able to."
As he spoke, Arima narrowed his eyes and looked at the man before them.
"But that one is impossible, even for me."
At last, Arima admitted his own limits.
It was the kind of admission Hitokawa always wanted to hear, but not at this moment.
The meaning of "that one" became obvious as the Butcher transformed.
Shrrrk!
Metallic Kagune burst from around the Butcher's shoulder blades and began wrapping around his body.
From head to toe, his entire form took on the shape of Western-style armor.
"Kakuja!!"
The advanced form of a Ghoul that had repeatedly practiced cannibalism.
The moment Hitokawa shouted in shock, the Butcher left cracks in the ground and charged forward at terrifying speed.
Hirako couldn't even react to the movement.
Only Hitokawa and Arima did.
Perhaps because they had been working as a team for some time, the two of them knew exactly what to do without speaking.
Whoosh!
Arima ripped off his coat in an instant and threw it out in front of him like a screen.
At the same time, Hitokawa crouched and thrust one leg back.
He hooked his foot like a grappling hook around the ankle of the rookie, who could do nothing but stare blankly at the monster that could turn a body into sliced meat with a single touch, and yanked hard.
"Wah!"
As Hirako lost his balance and fell backward, the Butcher swept aside the coat blocking his view with a single swing of his hand, tearing through it.
But by then, Hitokawa, Arima, and Hirako were all flattened against the ground.
Having lost sight of them for a split second because of the coat, the Butcher had no choice but to pass over their heads.
Even that alone sent a shockwave through the alley, as if a truck had just barreled through.
Whether the Butcher realized he had missed his target and was trying to brake, or simply couldn't control his strength, Hitokawa couldn't tell.
After slamming into one wall, the Butcher tore through concrete and rebar as lightly as if they were Styrofoam, bringing the wall down.
When the wall collapsed, what appeared beyond it was a bathroom.
It was clearly the restroom used by the people in this building.
"Run inside, Hirako!"
"...?!"
At Hitokawa's shout, Hirako snapped back to his senses and ran into the bathroom.
Hitokawa and Arima followed after him, and soon the Butcher, having regained his footing, gave chase.
Fwoosh!
The arm the Butcher swung split apart like a tentacle.
As three metallic whips lashed out toward Arima, a chunk of stone flew in and struck near his eye.
Crack!
It was a piece of concrete Hitokawa had snatched after throwing himself across the floor.
It caused no real damage, but Arima did not miss the brief opening created by the sudden strike.
He leaped over the horizontal metal tentacle as if skipping rope and hooked his fingers into the frame of a fluorescent light on the ceiling.
Perhaps thinking he should deal with Hitokawa first, since he had slipped closer along the floor than Arima, who had fled upward, the Butcher turned his head. In that instant, Arima ripped the fluorescent light frame free and hurled himself at him, smashing the back of his head.
Bang!!!
The fluorescent tube shattered, and the metal frame bent inward.
As expected, even that did no damage, but the fact that he had been attacked only further enraged the Butcher.
"Aaaaarimaaaaaaa!!!!!!"
The Butcher's body swelled violently, and the metallic tentacles wrapped around him exploded outward in all directions, sweeping everything away.
Toilets, sinks, mirrors, and partitions shattered to pieces under that small storm.
But Hitokawa and Arima had already anticipated a full-area attack and thrown themselves out of the bathroom with Hirako in tow.
KRRRRAK-KRASH!!!
The outer wall, unable to withstand the rampage inside the bathroom, split and collapsed.
Someone came running toward the three of them as they moved away from the bathroom to avoid the falling debris.
Apparently, it was an employee of the building.
"W-What is going on!?"
"Evacuate everyone in the building!! It's a Ghoul!!"
"A Ghoul!?"
"Aaaahhh!! It's a Ghoul!!!"
At Hitokawa's shout, the people who saw the metal-armored monster walking out from the collapsed bathroom area panicked.
The Butcher charged at Arima the moment he saw him, swinging his arm, and Arima slipped away by throwing himself across the floor and vaulting over a steel bench prepared for visitors.
BOOM!!!
Despite looking as if it were made of the same metal, the steel bench was smashed to pieces with ridiculous ease.
Arima grabbed several of the scattered fragments and threw them to keep the Butcher in check, then took hold of a shard that had once been part of the armrest and used it like a makeshift weapon to counter him.
While Arima drew the enemy's attention, Hitokawa grabbed Hirako by the shoulder and shouted, "Hirako!! While we hold that thing off, evacuate everyone in the building! And request backup from the CCG!!"
"What!? B-But!"
"Go now! This isn't something a rookie who's been a formal Investigator for less than a month can handle!"
BOOM!!!
The strike Arima had dodged shattered a pillar behind him.
The pillar collapsed like a tree cut down by an axe and crashed down on the Butcher, but the monster ignored it, smashed through the debris, and kept chasing Arima.
Even to Hitokawa, the physical ability of a Kakuja was terrifying.
But Arima possessed reflexes just as extraordinary, and the explosive bursts of strength he could unleash in an instant allowed him to barely keep pace with the Kakuja's movements.
"You think of yourself as ordinary, but the fact that you're following and learning from someone like Arima already makes you more than good enough. It'd be a problem if you died here. So hurry up and go!"
"...!"
Hirako looked back and forth between Hitokawa, Arima, and the Butcher before finally turning and running off.
At the same time, another pillar began to topple under the Butcher's hand, and Arima leaped off the falling pillar to land near Hitokawa.
"Then does that mean I'm the one who wouldn't be a problem if I died?"
Even in the middle of that frantic battle, Arima had heard the conversation and asked that.
Hitokawa took hold of a piece of iron pipe that had flown out when the bathroom was destroyed and settled into a stance.
"If I told you to die, would you just die quietly? You're not going to die. Neither am I."
"Aaaaarimaaaaaaa!!!!!!"
"Though that thing doesn't look like it has any intention of dying before it kills you."
Like Investigators from the era before Quinque were developed—or perhaps even worse off—the two men armed with makeshift weapons moved to meet the charging Kakuja Ghoul.