Yellow "CRIME SCENE: DO NOT ENTER" tape was stretched across the entrance of the blood-drenched alley.
Curious onlookers cast lingering, prying glances, wondering if a murder had taken place. Those guarding the entrance behind the tape weren't police officers; they wore long white coats. These were Ghoul Investigators. This was a "Ghoul Case."
Workers in jumpsuits emblazoned with the CCG logo carried unrecognizable bundles on carts, moving them toward waiting vans. These were heavy black plastic bags, large enough to hold two or three grown men. One of the bags had a small tear, and a portion of its contents spilled out onto the pavement.
When the onlookers realized those were human eyeballs, their curiosity instantly vanished, replaced by dry heaving as they scrambled away in terror.
Hitokawa sat on a set of stairs facing the alley, staring blankly at the scene. A man walked up and stood beside him. It was Shinichi Hashimoto, Hitokawa's superior.
"Good work on the report, Hitokawa."
"The culprit... who is it?" Hitokawa asked, his voice parched and hollow, cutting straight to the point.
His appearance had deteriorated significantly in just one day; he looked utterly ravaged. Hashimoto let out a soft sigh before answering.
"The official results will take time, but a quick cross-reference suggests a high probability it's the 'Insect Ghoul' from the previous attack. As of this hour, CCG Headquarters has officially designated it 'Insect,' set its threat level to Rate A~, and ordered all hands to prioritize its swift extermination."
"...."
"Also... we found traces of Insect near Takaki Koma's residence. It's almost certain the creature abducted him. We found a small amount of blood believed to be Koma's, but the volume was low. There's a high chance he was taken alive."
"...."
"Too many things are happening at once. You look exhausted. Leave the rest to us and go get some rest."
"...."
"Hitokawa?"
Hitokawa continued to stare at the alley where CCG personnel were swarming like ants.
"...Did you see inside that trash can, sir?"
"No. They were already recovering the remains when I arrived. The forensics team took site photos, but I haven't seen them yet. Is there a problem?"
"It was set up... like some kind of art installation."
"What did you say?" Hashimoto's brow furrowed at the word 'art.'
"The moment I opened that lid, I saw the faces of people I knew. Their heads had been severed, and their features were forcibly distorted into specific expressions. Euphoria. Rage. Grief. Mirth. He'd set those faces afloat in a pool of blood, and then he'd attached severed limbs around them like decorative accents. Like some cheap, third-rate piece of 'art.'"
Hitokawa let out a sharp, jagged laugh and covered his face with one hand. His hand trembled, veins bulging—whether from rage or sheer terror, it was impossible to tell.
"I'm not the type to frequent museums, and I don't have a lick of aesthetic sense... but looking at that sickening 'masterpiece,' I felt like I knew exactly what that monster was thinking. Mr. Hashimoto, that thing is a complete lunatic. He's not like other ghouls who 'kill to eat.' His goal is to show off the 'beauty' he creates! And a psychopath like that has my friend!!!"
𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘔!!
His bare fist slammed into the concrete stairs. His skin tore and blood began to seep out, but Hitokawa didn't even notice. Understanding the agonizing weight in Hitokawa's heart, Hashimoto lowered his head for a moment before continuing.
"I am just as concerned for Koma as you are. The subjugation team will move out shortly. We cannot overlook the loss of four professional investigators. A large-scale search operation will begin soon—"
"Mr. Hashimoto."
Hitokawa stood up. He clenched both fists with absolute resolve and looked his superior in the eye.
"Take me off that operation."
"What?"
Hashimoto's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected Hitokawa, who was more incensed than anyone, to lead the charge. His expression hardened into a cold mask.
"What is the meaning of this? You want to be removed?"
"I know that as an investigator, I'm bound to follow the mission. ...But the 'Golden Hour' for a human abducted by a ghoul is twenty-four hours."
Veteran investigators always emphasized the twenty-four-hour window for rescues. Abductions happened often; ghouls sought stability, efficiency, and above all, 'freshness.' When they attacked at random, they often had to flee, leaving behind large amounts of meat they couldn't finish. Instead, the more cunning ones would kidnap a human and eat them slowly, limb by limb.
Though it varied by individual, a ghoul usually makes its move within twenty-four hours—whether they kill the victim outright or keep them alive in a mangled state.
"If I wait for the subjugation team to mobilize, we'll miss that window. In the worst case, he's dead; in the best case, Koma loses an arm or a leg. I can't take that gamble."
Hitokawa Tomoru could not forgive himself if that happened. And more importantly, he feared that if Koma were lost, that brat—who was even now desperately searching for her father—would truly lose her sanity this time.
If Koma died, Hitokawa's hatred would be directed at ghouls. But Eto's hatred would be directed at the entire world.
No one wanted that ending.
Hitokawa bowed deeply to Hashimoto, knowing full well he was being unreasonable.
"The CCG as it is now might be able to exterminate a ghoul, but it cannot save my friend. I'm begging you. Please, authorize me to act independently!"
"...."
Hashimoto remained silent. Hitokawa did not lift his head. If a refusal came, he was prepared to press his forehead against the dirt until he bled to change the man's mind.
"...I have a debt."
"...?"
Hitokawa looked up slightly at the sound of that lamenting voice. Hashimoto was looking up at the sky, as if recalling a ghost.
"I owe the Takaki family. His father, Harima Takaki, lost his life to save mine. Because of my own weakness, I robbed Takaki Koma of his father. If I do nothing while Koma is in danger... I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror."
"Mr. Hashimoto..."
"Twenty-four hours. For exactly twenty-four hours, I won't care where you go or what you do. I'll block any interference from the higher-ups. However, if there are no results after twenty-four hours, you must steel your heart and return."
Without another word, Hashimoto turned back toward the crime scene, signaling that the conversation was over.
"...I will bring back results."
Hitokawa nodded solemnly and pulled out his phone. He had already made up his mind, but as he prepared to go through with it, he hesitated. To think he would be asking for help from the very thing he considered his life's enemy. He steeled himself and pressed the call button.
The CCG alone wasn't enough. Just tracking the Insect Ghoul, who had vanished without a trace, would take more than twenty-four hours. To find someone hidden within the cracks of the ghoul world, he needed the strength of someone from that same world.
As the line connected, Hitokawa murmured into the receiver.
"The culprit is a ghoul in an insect mask."
"...Understood."
Eto gave a curt reply and ended the call with Hitokawa. She was standing inside a gift shop in the city center. The clerk at the counter flashed a warm smile, assuming the small child had come to buy a present.
"Here is your change, dear. My, what an interesting mask you're buying. Are you having a party at home?"
Eto took the change and the paper bag, flashing a bright, innocent smile.
"It's not at home, but yes, there's going to be a party."
"Oh, is that so? Well, have a wonderful time!"
"I will. Thank you very much."
Eto bowed politely and left the shop. Clinging to the paper bag like a child excited about a new toy, she walked briskly through the crowds before slipping into a deserted side street.
In that instant, Eto's aura shifted.
Her face was no longer visible. As soon as she was out of sight, she had donned the mask from the bag. Though she was now covered, it felt as though she had stripped away a disguise; a bone-chilling cold radiated from her in all directions.
"Yes... truly..."
A smoldering, predatory voice echoed from behind the mask. It was a character mask of a popular children's figure modeled after an 'Owl.' From the right eye-hole of the mask, a terrifying, dark-crimson light flared into existence.
"...It's going to be a blood-spattered party."