"Why do you work under a man like that?"
Not long after the President had left the room, Minami resumed humming a light tune while she began arranging the tools for my dissection. I threw the question at her back, and she turned around with a look of genuine curiosity.
"A man like what?"
"Your President. You were almost murdered just now."
I was referring to the moment Minami had stepped between me and the President's predatory gaze. At that time, she had claimed ownership of my body, and the President had asked for a concession.
To any bystander, it would have seemed like a typical negotiation—if the subject matter hadn't been so macabre. Minami had refused, suggesting other targets, and the President had feigned contemplation.
But his eyes told a different story.
His gaze had shifted from me to Minami, but its repulsive nature hadn't changed. He was calculating. He was weighing whether it would be more profitable to keep Minami alive or to kill her right then and there to claim my body for himself.
If the phone hadn't rung at that exact moment, something catastrophic would have happened. Even I, a mere observer, could sense it. There was no way Minami—the one standing in the center of that pressure—had felt nothing.
Yet, she remained as nonchalant as ever. She turned back to her tools and spoke.
"I don't mind. A regular employee's status is lower than a slave's to begin with."
"...You're making it hard to argue with you on a very specific, depressing level."
It felt strange to hear a sharp fragment of painful reality coming from a woman who seemed so far removed from the real world. Conversely, it meant she had survived this long in an environment where she could be murdered at any second.
I couldn't understand it. I didn't understand her desire to become a ghoul, nor did I understand why she worked with people who clearly didn't care for her.
But to her, such things didn't seem to matter.
𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳!!
The tools she had been checking were laid out in a neat row beside the steel bed. Compared to these, the skewer she had been threatening my eyes with was almost cute.
Saws, scissors, sulfuric acid, medical scalpels, hammers, and more. It was a collection of props that looked like they belonged in a Grade-B gore flick.
Ah, I'm really going to die, I thought. There was nothing I could do. Perhaps because I had kicked the President earlier, they had found heavy belts from somewhere and strapped me to the bed. Even struggling was now impossible.
The only tool I had left was my voice—to try and change Minami's mind. But was it even possible? Could a lunatic like her be swayed by words? I didn't have a degree in psychology, but I had to try.
"What did you do before you started this kind of work?"
"Oh? Are you actually interested in me?"
"You're about to tear my body into pieces. How could I 𝘯𝘰𝘵 be interested?"
Opportunities are scarce. I had to find it—the keyword that would strip away her playful smirk. The decisive trigger that would force her hidden, true face to the surface. And I had to find it before she finished deciding between the skewer and the saw!
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"I've had many people approach me, but none of them ever quite satisfied me."
"Then how about me?"
"My, that's an idea. If we meet in the next life, I'll be the one to confess first~."
So death in this life is a certainty. That approach isn't working. Next!
"Why do you want to be a ghoul so badly?"
"I told you already. I admire them because they're wonderful."
"If you admire ghouls, should I introduce you to one? A middle-aged guy who's incredibly strong."
"Really? If he actually exists, that would be lovely~."
No. There's a reaction, but she doesn't believe me. And I can't exactly call Mr. Kuzen to prove it. Next!
"By the way, what about your parents? What do they do? Both of mine have passed away. Especially my father, thanks to that damn President of yours—"
𝘒𝘈-𝘈𝘕𝘎!!
A bone-chilling metallic ring cut me off. It was the skewer. The one Minami had been holding was now embedded halfway into the steel plate right next to my head.
Minami, still gripping the handle of the skewer, looked at me with a thin, bright smile.
"Could you let me concentrate? I need to be mentally prepared before I start my work~."
"..."
I fell silent, staring at the skewer vibrating near my temple. It wasn't just because I was startled by the threat.
'She reacted.'
I found the keyword.
"Parents." That was the trigger that provoked her.
I was desperately trying to assemble a sentence to exploit that keyword and drag her true self out when—
𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘣!
"𝘔𝘱𝘧?!"
Minami clamped her hand over my mouth. Looking at the saw in her other hand, it seemed she had finally made her choice.
"Alright, I've decided. Plucking out eyes is fine, but let's just cut the head off entirely."
"𝘔𝘮𝘱𝘩! 𝘔𝘱𝘩!"
"Don't worry. I'm used to this, so I can give you a very pretty cut. First, the blade will bite into the skin. Then it will reach the thyroid area in the neck. It's cartilage, so it slices easily. It gets a bit harder to move the saw once you get into the muscle and body fat, but as soon as the arteries are severed, your strength will fade. Once I've cut through the trachea and reached the vertebrae, I'll just use an axe to finish it in one go."
She spoke fluently, as if reciting a process she had repeated countless times. There wasn't even any malice in her voice. Like a butcher accustomed to slaughtering livestock, Minami brought the sharp edge of the saw to the base of my Adam's apple.
"𝘔𝘮𝘮𝘱𝘩!! 𝘔𝘮𝘱𝘩!!"
"Then, goodnight, Koma-kun~."
She whispered as gently as if she were tucking a child into bed, and began to apply pressure to the hand holding the saw. The teeth of the blade began to sink into the skin—!
𝘛𝘢𝘱, 𝘵𝘢𝘱.
Suddenly, a knock. A completely out-of-place sound echoed through the world that had been tensed to its limit. Minami stopped her hand and looked toward the door with a peculiar expression.
She looked confused, as if none of the people she knew possessed the basic manners required to knock before entering this room. With a suspicious look on her face, she called out toward the door.
"Who is it?"
As if that voice was the very thing they had been waiting for, the door was torn off its hinges with violent force. And then, a voice that was incredibly familiar to my ears rang out.
𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘔!!!
"It's a delivery of democracy, you bitch!!"
The path Hitokawa chose led to the basement. It wasn't a matter of special intuition. He had simply learned that ghouls, by nature, preferred enclosed, inconspicuous spaces when hiding.
If they were to hide while keeping an escape route through the sewers open in case of an emergency, the probability of them being in the basement was much higher than on the upper floors. He couldn't imagine a ghoul sitting arrogantly on the top floor of a skyscraper, looking down at the world; if one existed, he'd love to see their face.
He had searched every room on the first basement floor, but there was no sign of Koma. A sense of urgency began to gnaw at him; if Koma wasn't on the second basement floor either, it meant his deduction was wrong and he had wasted a significant amount of time.
As he was scouring the second basement, he caught a faint sound. Was it just a rat scurrying by, or the sound of someone talking? Clinging to a sliver of hope, he followed the noise.
Finally, he reached a door at the very end of the hall, firmly shut. The door was made of steel, but the hinges were rusted and worn. He could probably bring it down with a powerful kick. However, doing so would alert everyone to his presence.
Hitokawa decided to test the waters with a light knock.
"Who is it?"
The voice that answered was one he remembered. Hearing it, he had no more reason to hesitate. He kicked the rusted hinges, slamming the door inward.
𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘔!!!
"It's a delivery of democracy, you bitch!!"
His entrance was flamboyant, but his mind remained cold and professional. The moment the door fell, his eyes scanned the room.
There were no other ghouls in sight. Only Minami holding a saw, and his friend, who was seconds away from having his throat cut. Rather than relief that he wasn't too late, he prioritized the elimination of the threat.
The distance was too great. Even a lunge would take two or three steps. If Minami went into a frenzy and decided to slash an artery with that saw, it would be a disaster.
'In that case…!'
He limited himself to a single step.
He slammed his foot down hard on the fallen door. The recoil traveled up his leg, through his body, and into his right arm gripping the steel case. Using that momentum, he hurled the case with a swing like a professional ballplayer.
"...?!!"
Minami reflexively raised her arms to protect her head. But the force and weight of the steel case were significant; a sickening crack echoed from her arm as she blocked it, and the impact traveled to her head.
As Minami collapsed like a rotting tree, Hitokawa lunged. He pressed the switch on the falling case as it hit the ground, drawing his quinque in a single motion. Simultaneously, he kicked Minami squarely in her exposed abdomen, sending her flying toward the wall. He then shifted into a natural stance with his quinque deployed, ready for an ambush.
There was no ambush.
No sound of reinforcements rushing in. It seemed Eto was doing her job well upstairs. Letting out a breath of relief, Hitokawa looked at Koma, who was tied tightly to the steel bed. A laugh, half-relieved and half-exasperated, escaped him.
"What's with the look? You trying to imitate a bagworm?"
"And what's with you? Trying to imitate a veteran ghoul investigator?"
Koma smiled back at Hitokawa, noting that his friend had actually become quite convincing in the role.