Fortunately, the woman didn't notice the Kakugan that had manifested due to Eto's morning hunger and heightening emotions.
I quenched my parched throat with the water Eto had brought. The coolness spread through me, calming my frayed nerves. I set the glass down and turned my attention back to the stranger in the room.
"Aaah~ my head is killing me~. Hey, give me something to drink, too. Do you have any iced tea?"
The woman was sprawling across our floor as if she owned the place, complaining about a headache. She looked to be about my age, maybe slightly younger. Her long, brown hair rippled like waves—perhaps a natural curl—and the face beneath it was refined and beautiful enough to turn heads on any street.
However, her behavior did quite a bit to ruin that beauty. As she rolled around on the floor, her sweater and jeans rode up in a way that was, frankly, quite unseemly. Eto, who was still holding the bamboo tea tray, watched the woman—who had not only occupied our floor but was now brazenly demanding a drink—with a smile that didn't reach her twitching cheeks.
"Daddy, can I hit this woman?"
𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬.
Eto's grip tightened, and visible fissures began to spiderweb across the bamboo tray.
Stay calm, Eto. If you hit her, a normal human will die instantly.
I beckoned Eto over and had her sit on my lap. As I stroked her hair, her sulky expression slowly began to melt away. Once I was sure she had calmed down, I turned back to the woman.
"Anyway, who are you? You're definitely the person I was drinking with last night, right?"
"Huh? I told you all about it yesterday. You don't remember?"
She lifted her head from the floor to look at me. Seriously, just stand up already.
"I blacked out. I think the alcohol was too strong. I don't remember anything."
"My god! You mean you forgot that passionate night we spent together!? You heartless man!"
"What kind of night could I have possibly spent with you? For the record, we are both fully clothed. My belt has remained a steadfast guardian of our family's peace and honor."
"I mean, it was just a joke~☆ I wanted to see if you really didn't remember. Tehe!"
"..."
As she stuck out her tongue and gave herself a playful little knock on the head, I seriously considered giving Eto permission to strike. In fact, Eto's expression was so fierce that she looked ready to transform into a hunting dog the moment I shouted "Bite!"
Don't be angry. Our Eto is a good girl, a very good girl... Okay, she's calm.
"Jokes aside, I'm being serious. Who are you? And why were you sleeping in my house?"
"Hmm~? Where should I start? First, my name: Miina Shinooto. But you can call me Miina-chan~."
"So, Shinooto. Why were you sleeping in my bed?"
"Wow, a total shut-out? Fine—anyway, it all started when both you and I were completely hammered..."
And thus, she began her explanation of the night I couldn't remember.
The night before...
"So they really were stolen rounds..."
𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.
Hitokawa held the revolver loaded with 𝘘 𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴, aiming it at the ceiling. His desk was littered with various documents, but at the very top was a report with the serial numbers of the bullets written in red ink. The results had come back faster than the expected one or two days because the police had already been searching for these items.
The revolver delivered to Koma was part of a shipment stolen from a police firearm warehouse six months ago. There were signs of an external break-in, but the perpetrator was unknown, and the methods used were so baffling that the police had been at a total loss.
And now, one of those items had been delivered to Koma. Why?
"Should I report this...?"
This was more complicated than he'd thought. This was a police theft case with no suspect. By receiving the item, Koma was now effectively involved. Even without thinking deeply, Hitokawa knew this would bring nothing but trouble to his friend. Yet, he couldn't just turn a blind eye. A lethal weapon had been put into circulation, after all.
"What do I do..."
Worrying wouldn't solve anything. Deciding to meet with Koma again the next day, Hitokawa shoved the revolver into his drawer and locked it tight. It was past 1:00 AM. He was the only one left in the office. He turned off the lights, donned his heavy coat, and stepped out of the CCG building.
"Ugh… it's still cold."
Despite his daily training to hunt Ghouls, the February night wind was cold enough to send shivers down his spine. He walked through the streets, rubbing his arms. The entertainment districts where young people gathered would still be noisy, but here, among the sterile government buildings of the CCG, the streets were deserted after midnight.
𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱.
...Someone was behind him. Judging by the sound, there were two of them. They weren't just passing by; they were clearly closing the distance, targeting Hitokawa on the wide road.
They wanted something from him.
…Ghouls?
He wondered if any Ghoul was crazy enough to attack an investigator near a CCG branch, but he noticed their footsteps were irregular. They were stumbling, as if intoxicated.
If they were Ghouls who had lost their minds—or Ghouls who harbored a deep enough hatred for investigators—they might target an officer walking alone at night. There were no witnesses, it was two against one. Hitokawa was at a disadvantage.
The footsteps were right behind him. Hitokawa tightened his grip on his steel briefcase.
𝘛𝘢𝘱!
He felt one of them lunge, timing their jump perfectly. But the movement was sluggish. Hitokawa reached for the release switch on his briefcase, preparing to swing.
"HITOKAWA-AAAAAA~~!!"
"Wait—Koma?!"
The moment he opened the case, he saw his friend's face—bright red and grinning ear-to-ear. Koma lunged forward, reeking of alcohol, and executed a perfect, professional wrestling lariat.
𝘛𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘤𝘬!!!
"𝘒𝘢𝘩?!"
Hitokawa, staring in disbelief, was struck in the neck by Koma's swinging arm and sent rolling across the pavement. As his vision spun, he desperately tried to make sense of the situation.
'What? Why is Koma here, and why did he just hit me with a lariat? Is he drunk? Drunken wrestling? Why?!'
Hitokawa rarely saw Koma drink. Usually, Koma claimed to be a lightweight and only drank exactly enough to stay sober. He had never seen his friend truly intoxicated.
Then, a memory surfaced—something his former superior, Shinichi Hashimoto, had once said.
—Mr. Takaki used to have a very strange habit when he drank; he'd perform pro-wrestling moves on his close friends. He said it started because he felt bad for not playing with his son enough when things were peaceful, so he'd play-wrestle even while drunk... I wonder if Koma-kun inherited that same habit?
"WHAT KIND OF FATHER-SON DUO HAS A DRUNKEN WRESTLING HABIT?!"
Hitokawa screamed as he tried to stand, but Koma's next move was faster. A Body Press, slamming his entire weight down onto his opponent.
"Hey, you bastard! This is concrete—urgh!!"
𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘥!!
Hitokawa's scream was cut short as Koma flattened him. Koma immediately transitioned into a perfect triangle choke. It was a flawless hold that even a Ghoul Investigator couldn't break.
"𝘈𝘫𝘢-𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢!!"
"'𝘈𝘫𝘢' 𝘔𝘠 𝘈𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚𝘚!!!"
As Hitokawa screamed, a woman appeared. Like Koma, she reeked of alcohol. She was beautiful, but Hitokawa was in too much pain to appreciate it. Miina Shinooto, equally hammered, knelt beside them and began pounding the pavement with her palm.
"One! Two! Three~~!! Koma Takaki is the winner!!"
"Yay~!!"
Miina grabbed Koma's arm and hoisted it high, declaring him the champion. Joining in on the mood, Koma held up a peace sign with his other hand. Hitokawa, groaning from the unprovoked assault, finally managed to pull himself together and stand.
"Koma, you bastard… what the hell are you doing…?"
"Hmph! For some reason, after I started drinking, I felt this surge of energy! I wanted to see where my limits were! You were my tenth consecutive victory!"
"That means nine other people were victimized like me?! You're going to get reported, you idiot!"
"It's okay~. He said he was hot and took off his shirt, but he made sure to wear a mask while he fought!~"
"That makes it even more malicious! What did those poor people do to you?! No, wait—who the hell are you!?"
Hitokawa addressed Miina, but neither of them was listening.
"Man~ but that Manager was the toughest opponent at the start~."
"I think we just walked out after smashing a table, I hope she's okay. Eh, she'll be fine."
"Wait! You beat that 'Human Beast' Manager?! Are you the type whose combat stats increase when you drink?!"
Hitokawa dreaded to think what had happened at Koma's workplace.
"Alright~ I've still got power to spare! Let's aim for a 100-win streak tonight!!"
"Wow~ sounds like fun!"
"Stop it, you lunatics!! How many more victims do you need before you're satisfied?! Hey! Don't walk away! Get back hereeeee!!!"
Hitokawa ran after them, desperate to stop Koma and Miina before they found their next target.
"...Hold on. Time out."
I stopped Miina's story and covered my face with both hands.
…What the hell am I doing with my life?
It was true that when I was close with my father, we used to play-wrestle while watching it on TV, but how did that end up as a drunken habit? A wave of guilt washed over me for Hitokawa and the nine other "victims" of my midnight dojo-crashing.
No, wait—did she say I beat the Manager? How am I supposed to look her in the face tomorrow? Will I even survive the shift?
While I was drowning in regret and shame, Eto, still sitting on my lap, spoke up.
"Daddy! I want to do pro-wrestling, too!"
She seemed to have developed an interest in the sport after hearing the story. Of course, that was absolutely out of the question. My literal life would be in danger.
"...Eto. Pro-wrestling is a dangerous sport. You shouldn't do it recklessly."
"Eh? But in that magazine I saw before, it didn't look dangerous at all. You know, that 'wrestling' Adam and Eve did."
"..."
Never before had Eto's memory felt like such a dangerous weapon as it did in this moment.