Hitokawa remained hidden on a nearby rooftop, his eyes fixed on the two ghouls as they moved away from the derelict building. He had heard that many ghouls didn't give a damn about their own kind, but it seemed these two possessed a scrap of conscience—or at least, a twisted version of it.
Well, this worked. It served the purpose of drawing them away from the hideout. However, there was one fatal flaw in the current situation.
"...Who is that child?"
"I have no idea!!"
The problem was simple: Eto was still standing right next to him.
The girl currently leading the two ghouls wasn't Eto; she was a complete stranger. While Eto had been hesitating over her performance, a real 'lost child' had appeared and snatched the lead role.
Hitokawa looked at Eto, feeling as though absolutely nothing had gone right lately.
"Why didn't you just go when I told you to?! Now some random kid has hijacked the plan!"
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to fake a natural crying fit?! Even child actors have to undergo years of systematic training to pull that off!"
To put it simply: she had fumbled her lines, hesitated, and let a pro—an actual grieving child—beat her to the punch. Honestly, asking Eto to play a wide-eyed innocent in front of the scum who kidnapped her father had been a tall order. It was a miracle she could suppress her bloodlust at all; if they had so much as mentioned Koma in passing, she likely would have detonated on the spot.
"Is it really that hard?! Just go back to being a brat who throws a tantrum in front of a toy store!"
"𝘏𝘢! Toys! I stopped asking for those the moment I realized every toy cost an extra hour of my dad's labor!"
"You realized the weight of parental sacrifice way too early, you overachieving filial daughter!!!"
"You're welcome!!!"
By the time they finished wasting their energy on the useless bickering, the two ghouls had followed the girl a significant distance from the hideout. Eto and Hitokawa, both breathing heavily and glaring at each other, realized it was finally time to strike.
"So, do we ambush them?"
"Yeah. I'd like to say that, but..."
"Is the kid the problem?"
"...."
Eto leaned against the railing and narrowed her eyes as Hitokawa fell silent. The pre-dawn fog had begun to roll in between the skyscrapers, blurring the silhouettes below. The wind was blowing the wrong way, keeping any scents out of reach.
"It's hard to tell from here, but given the hour and the way those two are reacting... she's definitely a ghoul. Are you hesitating?"
She was right. Hitokawa was wavering because of this third, unexpected ghoul. Currently, he had set aside his identity as an investigator to save his friend. He was an ally of a ghoul to fight other ghouls.
But now, an unrelated ghoul had appeared, and he found himself paralyzed by his own internal conflict. The heart of a friend who needed to save Koma clashed with the instincts of an investigator who couldn't let a monster go free. He didn't know how to treat this new variable.
A small girl searching for her lost mother. But a ghoul.
A weeping, vulnerable child. But a ghoul.
His head throbbed. Having spent so much time with Eto—who felt more human than most people—only made the confusion worse.
"...A poor ghoul child, weeping for her mother. Why the hesitation?"
Eto turned away, her voice dripping with biting sarcasm.
"Just take her to Cochlea, too. She can eat well and live long without ever knowing if her parents are alive or dead."
"𝘜𝘨𝘩..."
Hitokawa winced as if he'd been physically stabbed. Imprisonment and isolation. That had been his unwavering stance for Koma and Eto. Clearly, Eto had been holding onto that resentment. While Hitokawa's hesitation signaled a shift in his rigid worldview, Eto didn't have the luxury of patience. Every second was precious.
"There's no more time to leave Dad in there. If you're going to stall, I'll just go by myse—"
Eto's sentence cut off abruptly. Hitokawa looked at her, and saw her eyes fixed on the ghouls below, her expression one of utter disbelief. She pressed a hand to her ear, focusing her senses, and her face contorted in horror.
"My god.... We have to save that girl right now!"
"What!?"
𝘛𝘢𝘢𝘵!!
Before he could ask for an explanation, Eto kicked off the railing and plummeted dozens of meters toward the street.
"Hey, brat. Where exactly did you lose this 'mommy' of yours?"
The Senior Manager spoke in a threatening tone, clearly losing patience with being led around by a child. They had agreed to go to the spot where she last saw her mother, but the girl seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the labyrinthine alleys.
"...."
The girl remained silent, causing the Senior Manager to scowl. He loathed it when those weaker than him ignored him or overstepped their bounds.
"Hey! Are you ignoring me, you little brat?!"
As he stomped toward her, baring his teeth, the girl suddenly spun around.
"...Huh?"
A sound of sheer bewilderment escaped the Senior Manager's throat. A small metal object was pointed directly at them. He recognized it instantly, which only made the situation more absurd.
It was a pistol.
The girl held the gun with both hands, her arms shaking violently as she aimed it at the Senior Manager.
"Have you lost your mind? We offer to help you find your mother, and you pull out a toy?"
"M-Mommy... is gone...!"
The girl's voice was a thin, trembling reed. She was crying, just as she had been when they met, but the look in her eyes wasn't sorrow or fear. It was pure hatred.
"You... you people killed her!!!"
"What kind of nonsense is—"
"Team Leader, move!"
"...Eh?"
As the Team Leader frowned at the girl's outburst, the Senior Manager's calm voice cut through the air. In that same instant, something tripped the Team Leader's ankle, sending him sprawling.
It happened almost simultaneously with the girl pulling the trigger. A flash of fire erupted from the muzzle. The bullet, which should have hit the Team Leader in the chest, merely grazed his shoulder as he fell.
To a ghoul, it shouldn't have been a serious wound. And yet....
"𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘎𝘏! 𝘐𝘛 𝘉𝘜𝘙𝘕𝘚! 𝘐𝘛 𝘏𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘚!!"
A searing, agonizing pain surged through him. It felt as if a red-hot iron had been shoved into the wound. The injury refused to close, and blood continued to pour out.
The Team Leader thrashed on the ground before finally regaining a sliver of composure, his face twisting with rage as he forced himself up.
"You little bitch!!! What did you do to me!!!"
But by the time he regained his footing, the Senior Manager had already ended the confrontation. A young girl's body was never meant to handle the recoil of such a weapon. She had fired the shot, but the kick had sent the gun flying from her hands. Before she could scramble for it, the Senior Manager had closed the distance and crushed the pistol under his heel.
He held the girl by the scruff of her neck, dangling her in the air with the same placid expression he'd worn since the beginning. He scanned her face with a clinical coldness, as if inspecting a new piece of 'material.'
"S-Senior Manager! What is going on here?!"
"Ah. Forgive me. You're a terrible actor; I was afraid if I told you the truth, she'd catch on."
The Senior Manager smiled apologetically and kicked the crushed pistol into the air. The Team Leader caught it and inspected the magazine.
"Red rounds...? This is a Q-bullet!!"
"Indeed. Aside from a Quinque, it is one of the few things capable of harming us."
The girl kicked at the Senior Manager's chest repeatedly, but he didn't budge. He leaned in and sniffed her clothes, his eyes gleaming with realization.
"I thought so.... She was hiding a cloth soaked in ghoul blood beneath her coat. Did you wander the streets looking for ghoul corpses just so you could mask your scent? Impressive, child. I almost fell for it."
"Mask her scent?! She tricked us?! Y-You mean this brat is...?!!"
"Yes. A human."
"𝘎𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘩!! A human dared to wound me?! Give her to me, Senior Manager!! I'll rip her apart!!"
"Calm yourself. We cannot kill her yet. She belongs to 'Him.' You know his... hobby."
"Ah...."
The Team Leader fell silent, the realization taking the wind out of his sails. Still, he ground his teeth and glared at the girl with murderous intent. The Senior Manager nodded as he watched the girl continue to struggle against his grip, her spirit unbroken.
"Yes, yes. I understand. It must be frustrating, having your revenge snatched away at the finish line. I don't know 'who' sent you that pistol, and I don't know 'who' told you where your mother's killer was hiding. Honestly, having a superior with such eccentric hobbies makes life very difficult for the subordinates."
"𝘜𝘨𝘩... 𝘨𝘶𝘩...!!"
The girl thrashed, her eyes locked onto the Team Leader with savage intensity. Watching her, a memory surfaced in the Senior Manager's mind.
"Oho, that's it! That rebellious gaze. I remember now. You're the daughter of that woman we used before, aren't you? Did you see your mother after she was... beautified? It's quite a comfort, really. You'll never be lonely, because you'll think of her every Christmas."
"...!!!"
The girl's eyes widened, and fresh tears spilled over. The image of her mother, transformed into something so horrific she wanted to rip the memory from her brain—the shock of seeing the photograph that had been delivered with the pistol was a trauma that still haunted her.
"You... 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘗𝘌𝘖𝘗𝘓𝘌 𝘋𝘐𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘖𝘔𝘔𝘠...!!"
"Don't be so sad, little one. We are professionals in this field."
The Senior Manager slowly hoisted the girl higher. Then, twisting his body, he prepared to hurl her head-first into the pavement.
"Soon, you'll be beautifully decorated and placed right beside her...!!"
His arm swung with a manic grin.
But there was only the sound of whistling wind. The girl didn't hit the ground. Instead, red droplets splattered across the concrete.
'Red dots...?'
He wondered where they came from. First one, then two, then three—until a dozen joined together into a widening pool of crimson.
𝘚𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘴𝘩!!!
The sound of a fountain erupting made the Senior Manager realize exactly where those red dots were coming from.
It was the blood geysering from his own severed arm.
"How about we put something else on display instead of this girl?"
The Senior Manager and the Team Leader both spun toward the unfamiliar voice. There, standing in the alley, was a small figure draped in a blanket.
The figure, appearing no larger than the girl it was protecting, set the child down gently, along with the severed arm that had come with her like a grisly accessory. Both ghouls felt it instantly.
This wasn't a fake like the girl. This was a true ghoul. The dark-crimson light glowing from behind the Owl mask was proof enough.
"Perhaps a cenotaph built from your own bones?"