Reality.
A dark alley.
After sending the transaction request, Touka leaned against the cold, damp wall, struggling for breath and conserving every bit of strength she could. Anxiety gnawed at her as she waited.
How will the group owner come? When will he come? How will he help me?
Questions and anticipation churned—
Fwoosh—!
A blinding shaft of white light speared in from the mouth of the alley. The glare, like a blade of judgment, struck her squarely, leaving her pallid face and blood-stained body nowhere to hide.
"Found her! She's here!"
A cold male voice, tight with suppressed excitement, rang out.
Damn it—discovered!
Touka's face went even whiter; her heart seemed to skip a beat. She forced herself through the stab of pain in her abdomen to get up and run, but the weakness of blood loss slowed her for an instant.
In that instant, hurried, jumbled footsteps pounded at the alley's exit.
More Doves were coming!
She turned to bolt the other way—only to see several figures appear at the opposite end as well, black trench coats looking especially grim in the dim light.
!!!
Only now did Kirishima Touka realize she'd been made long ago. They'd even let her bandage herself so she'd think she'd slipped the net—when in fact they'd been tightening it to perfection.
"Hah… hah…"
Panting like a cornered animal, a hard glint flashed in her crimson kakugan. She tore off the makeshift bandage. Fresh blood surged from the wound with the violent motion, but she no longer cared.
A deep-red ukaku—like shards of crystal—flared open from behind her shoulder blades, casting a dangerous, uncanny glow in the dark.
This was her last stand.
But when she tried to take wing and break out above, she found investigators with quinques on the walls and fire escape overhead—she had no idea when they'd slipped into position. Cold muzzles leveled at her.
No way out.
"What a beautiful ukaku…"
A hoarse, snakelike voice, tinged with a sickly obsession, drifted from ahead. The line of men at the front of the encirclement parted, and out stepped a lanky man with a shock of messy white hair. A twisted, ill-fitting smile warped his face. Hook-sharp eyes locked onto the kagune unfurled behind Touka, as if he were admiring a peerless work of art.
Kureo Mado—First Class Investigator, CCG. A madman notorious for cruelty and rabid hatred of ghouls. Obsessed with crafting quinques, and the powerful, rare kagune he coveted as materials most of all.
"Give up the pointless struggle, little rabbit."
Step by step, Kureo Mado advanced, hefting a huge, boxy weapon wrapped in white cloth—his quinque.
"Be a good girl and become part of my new collection. It'll hurt less that way."
"Or… would you like to feel what it's like to be taken apart?"
His laugh made the skin crawl. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was the ghoul.
"Damn it!"
Touka clenched her teeth. Her ukaku trembled, primed to fight to the death. Even if she died, she would never let her kagune be turned into a weapon to slaughter her own kind.
At that hair-trigger moment—
"Apologies for spoiling the fun."
A calm, gentle voice, carrying a strange penetrating quality, suddenly rang through the dead-still alley, reaching every ear clearly.
"But this young lady is an important transaction target of mine. So, I can't hand her over to you."
All the investigators—even Kureo Mado—were stunned. They turned toward the voice.
The dingy, filthy, blood-reeking alley rippled and warped like the surface of a pond struck by a stone. The light at the mouth of the alley blurred. The surrounding walls began to flow like melting wax.
!!!
Eyes widened all around at the incomprehensible sight.
Then, at the center of those warped lights and shadows, a tall, straight figure emerged as if walking out of an ink painting—blur resolving into clarity.
Black, tousled hair.
Deep-set eyes.
A face too handsome to seem mortal.
And that detached, sovereign air—outside it all, yet in control of everything.
Rei Ao.
He stepped through the filthy puddles with unhurried ease, as if striding a palace red carpet, his gaze landing unerringly on the blood-smeared, speechless Kirishima Touka. His brow creased slightly.
"You're pretty badly hurt."
His voice was even, unreadable—yet, in her desperate straits, it made Touka's nose prickle.
He… really came!
Someone now stood at Touka's side—without warning, without anyone seeing how. No footsteps, no breath, not even a blip on any detection device.
What was he?
A new kind of ghoul?
A special kagune ability? Spatial transfer?
Kureo Mado narrowed his snake-like eyes, raking up and down this bizarre man who had appeared from nowhere. Hoarsely, he asked, "Young man… are you a ghoul as well?"
His hand tightened imperceptibly on the handle of the quinque case. If it was a ghoul, he would cut it down.
Rei Ao smiled faintly and shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you. I'm not a ghoul—at least biologically, I qualify as human."
He paused, his gaze sliding over Mado, tone turning lightly amused. "And a perfectly normal male in every respect. For example, I happen to think your daughter, Akira Mado, and I might get along quite well."
"???"
Mado's twisted smile froze; his pupils shrank to pinpoints.
Akira… How does he know Akira?! And that she's my daughter?!
Family information on investigators is strictly confidential within the CCG!
A chill shot up Mado's spine to the back of his head.
This man was too uncanny.
"You… threatening me?"
Mado's voice dropped to a deadly register, his killing intent barely veiled.