𝘚𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵!
The sound of a heavy, moisture-laden mass hitting the ground echoed through the alley. It was the bisected corpse of the ghoul who had been fighting Hitokawa only moments ago.
𝘚𝘩𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬!!
Without a moment's delay, Hitokawa approached the upper half of the torso and drove his quinque into the neck. It wasn't an act of desecration; he simply knew all too well how 'persistent' their kind could be. He was merely performing a confirmed kill according to the Investigator's manual.
"Gack! 𝘎𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘭𝘭𝘭…!!"
As expected, the creature—still clinging to a shred of life—thrashed like a fish pulled from water, but its struggle did not last long. Its death rattle was swallowed by a rising foam of blood. The sound of fingernails scratching against the greatsword embedded in its throat served as a final scream, a desperate plea for a life already lost.
The hand that had been clawing at the blade until the very end finally lost its strength and slumped to the earth. Though it no longer had the power to move, the ghoul's 𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 glared at Hitokawa with a vivid, defiant crimson. It was a gaze saturated with resentment, hatred, and curses.
The mere sight of it made Hitokawa's stomach churn.
'Right. This was exactly how I felt the first time I snuffed out a ghoul's life.'
For a man who had never committed a murder in his life, killing a ghoul—an entity so indistinguishably human—was no easy task. It took a surprising amount of trial and error before he could finally drive a blade into the heart of a being that looked like a human, spoke like a human, and bled like a human.
Because of that, Hitokawa had categorized ghouls as monsters that needed to be exterminated. It was a defense mechanism to preserve his own sanity. But now, that defense mechanism was beginning to tilt precariously, like a tower of sand.
All because of a single child who was turning a ghoul, who 'should be a monster,' back into something 'close to human.'
"Haa…"
He felt just as inexperienced now as he did back in his rookie days. Hitokawa covered his face with his hand. Even when he had cleaved the ghoul in mid-air just now, he could have taken the head from the start instead of the waist. He had hesitated for a split second, and his timing had lagged.
A faint trace of reluctance had seeped into his hands. Whether this was a good or bad thing, he didn't know, but in a life-or-death situation, it was a blatant liability.
Hitokawa started to glare at the girl who was the source of his frustration, but he quickly thought better of it. Seeing Eto slumped there, paralyzed by the shock of crossing the line due to his own rash judgment, his anger vanished.
Learning the sensation of killing. To Hitokawa, it was a negative, but in their current situation, it was a practical advantage. However, thinking about the aftermath of this incident, it was an absolute disaster.
'…Wait, why am I even worrying about what happens after this is over?!'
His cooperation with Eto was strictly until Koma was rescued. Sending Eto to Cochlea—he hadn't backed down from that stance.
'Get a grip! If I don't stay cold, those two will only end up miserable!'
Hitokawa slapped his cheeks, hardening his wavering resolve. Yet, he failed to notice one thing. In the very moment he was emphasizing that humans and ghouls could never coexist, he had already acknowledged Koma and Eto's relationship as that of a 'father and daughter.'
The intoxication that had threatened to seize her brain only moments ago was slowly receding. In its place, a wave of self-loathing for her own actions came rushing in.
What was that about 'Papa would surely scold me'? In the end, she had done nothing but use him as an excuse to turn a blind eye to her own choices. The line had been crossed; there was no turning back.
While a relentless sense of guilt surged within her, another emotion began to take shape in opposition.
It was 'doubt.'
Doubt toward herself—toward the self that had committed the act of crossing the line into murder simply because it was deemed 'necessary.'
It was certainly Eto who had thought it, and certainly Eto who had done it. So why did she feel so 'unfamiliar' to herself?
There was something else. Beyond Eto's reason and will, another force had acted—something she hadn't noticed. What was it?
She could have let it go, but she felt as though she shouldn't. The intoxication that had ruled her until a moment ago… when did it start? From the moment she killed the ghoul? From the moment she blew off the arm of the ghoul targeting the girl? Or… much earlier than that?
A serpent's voice, whispering, tempting her to follow this path. If she followed that long, winding body, what would she find? What would she see?
『𝘊𝘙𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘏!!』
The sound of tearing flesh echoed from the depths of her memory.
The thing…
That I…
Ate…
Was…?
"Hey."
𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦!
A voice pulled Eto out of her deep, sunken thoughts. Jerking as if waking from a light doze, Eto looked up. Hitokawa had approached her side before she realized it.
"Do you still need time to rest?"
"...No. I'm fine now."
"Good. Then let's move. Nothing good comes from lingering here. And…"
Hitokawa glanced toward a corner of the alley. The girl Eto had just saved. The child, who looked to be about Eto's age, was still slumped there with her eyes squeezed shut, even though the ghouls were dead. She was trembling slightly, paralyzed by a fear of the unknown situation.
Who exactly was she? What was her relationship with the dead ghouls, and why was she carrying Q-bullets? There were many questions to be asked. Perhaps they could uncover an unexpected truth through her.
"First, we need to change locations."
Hitokawa began folding the segments of his quinque like origami, stowing it back into its steel case. Eto watched him for a moment before speaking up hesitantly.
"Mr. Hitokawa. There's something I want to ask…"
"Hmm?"
"『What happens if a ghoul eats the flesh of another ghoul?』"
𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.
Having closed the case, Hitokawa turned back to Eto. He wondered at the suddenness of the question, but the firm, serious expression on her face suggested it was of great importance to her. After a moment of thought, he answered.
"Well, let's see… What I learned at the Academy was that to a ghoul, the flesh of their own kind tastes absolutely foul, so it's rarely used as a food source."
"Is that all?"
"Higher-ranking investigators might know more, but… why do you ask?"
"..."
Eto fell silent for a moment, then turned away, her voice barely a murmur.
"...It seems I've laid my hands on the Forbidden Fruit."
"???"
Hitokawa gave her a look that asked what on earth she was talking about, but Eto said nothing more and began walking toward the girl.
My whole body feels like a wreck.
I can handle the pain radiating from the back of my head and my shoulders. But the feeling of being constricted, as if my entire body is bound, is suffocating. Even before I could open my eyelids, I knew my situation was 'screwed.'
"…A long time ago, I used to enjoy playing a game called 'Super Mario.' You know the boss, 'Bowser'? I used to grumble about why that guy was so obsessed with kidnapping a perfectly happy princess in every single sequel. Whether it's for love or whatever, if it's forced, it's no different from violence, right? So when I played as Mario, I made sure to stomp him good."
I spoke as I slowly pried my eyes open. As expected, I found my body wrapped in pressure bandages like an insect caught in a spiderweb. The sensation against my back was cold—ice-cold. I was lying on a stainless steel slab.
But this slab wasn't flat. it was slightly inclined, and at the end, I could see a hole that looked like a drainage vent.
Most unfortunately, I recognized the purpose of this table. My recent habit of binge-watching medical procedural dramas was the problem. They used these steel beds to drain the blood during autopsies.
"But now, my opinion of Bowser is starting to change. He kidnaps people, sure, but he doesn't do anything truly horrific, does he? At least he's not some psychopath who tries to tear his captives limb from limb and then decorate them all pretty. If I met Bowser right now, I think I could apologize for everything bad I ever thought about him."
"Is that so~? Realizing your own mistakes and apologizing… Koma-kun, you really are a polite adult, aren't you?"
Humming a cheerful tune, Minami's face appeared above my head. She had some bruising on her cheeks and forehead—likely from our struggle—but she looked down at me with a favorable gaze, as if her own injuries didn't bother her at all.
Something glinted in her hand as she smiled, descending toward my face. It stopped a mere centimeter or two away. It was a skewer. I doubted she intended to use it for a barbecue.
"But before you apologize, there's something I'd like Koma-kun to answer for me first~."
Minami's smile deepened as she brandished the skewer before my eyes.
"Should I pluck out the right eye first~? Or the left?"