"No clue. Where ghouls come from? No idea." Amon said, shrugging without a second thought.
"Fair enough." Altair replied. "Most people don't know, and they don't bother or have time to care. They're too busy fighting ghouls. And the ghouls? They're obsessed with filling their bellies and getting stronger to avoid being eaten by their own kind. Eating another ghoul makes them more powerful, after all."
"Here's the funny part." Altair said, chuckling. "The CCG created a ranking system for ghouls, from low to high, with SSS as the top tier. Once they rolled it out, ghouls started killing each other over it. Some felt insulted by their low rank, others wanted to prove they deserved a higher one. They'd fight CCG investigators or each other just to show off and climb the ranks."
Altair smirked. It was absurd, ghouls taking pride in the CCG's ratings, like pirates in another world chasing infamy.
"Whether it's investigators hunting ghouls or ghouls running from them, they're all so caught up in the fight they don't stop to ask why they're fighting." He continued.
"Why? Because ghouls kill and eat people." Amon said, stating his reason for joining the CCG, to wipe out every last ghoul.
"That's one reason, but not the real one." Altair countered. He turned to Touka, who'd been listening intently. "Waitress, is my coffee ready yet?"
He hadn't come to Anteiku just to chat; he was here for coffee, after all.
"Oh, sorry! It's coming right up." Touka said, bowing apologetically before hurrying to the counter. The elderly owner had already prepared two Americanos.
"Thanks, Touka." The old man said softly, placing the coffees on a tray.
Touka nodded, carrying the tray with the coffees and a parfait to Altair's table, setting them down neatly. "Enjoy."
Altair took a sip of his Americano. Bitter, no flavor, just as expected. But to maintain his "refined" American persona who "loves morning coffee." He powered through. He slid the parfait to Est, who dug in with her small spoon, then resumed his lecture.
"The CCG, as the anti-ghoul agency, has never figured out where ghouls come from. Why do ghouls exist? Doesn't that seem odd?" Altair asked.
Amon frowned, thinking. "Maybe it's just hard to investigate?"
"Never underestimate a government agency's resources. If they want answers, they'll get them, unless someone's covering for the ghouls." Altair tapped the table lightly. "You know, in America, there are countless bio-labs running all kinds of experiments. Some study viruses targeting one group, then sell the results to another. It's a game of profit."
"You can't just say that…" Amon said, shocked, wondering if this guy was even a real American. Spilling secrets like that could cause trouble.
"No worries." Altair waved it off. "You're Japanese. Who'd believe you if you told? America's got bio-labs in Japan, and your government doesn't bat an eye. What's your word worth?"
Amon was speechless. Only an American would talk to a Japanese person like that.
"Back to my point." Altair continued. "Labs sometimes leak viruses. If those cause trouble, they send special teams to clean up. But if the leaked viruses can be controlled, guess what? They assess the risk. If it doesn't hurt their interests, and better yet, makes money, they let the viruses run free. They hire people to fight them while ensuring they're never fully wiped out. That way, people need their protection, and their value rises as the threat persists. It's a profitable cycle."
Altair sipped his coffee, smiling at Amon. "Doesn't that sound a bit like Japan's CCG and ghouls?"
Amon's forehead beaded with sweat. The cafe fell silent, everyone reeling from the implication. The owner paused mid-wipe, his cloth frozen on a glass.
"No way." Amon stammered. "The CCG fights ghouls. They wouldn't…"
"Have you ever seen the CCG's leaders? The ones pulling the strings, like the Washuu family?" Altair asked.
No, they hadn't. The Washuu clan, the CCG's shadowy backbone, rarely appeared.
"It's impossible." Amon said, his voice cracking. "If the CCG's leaders are ghouls, what's the point of what we do?"
"Exactly." Altair said. "You're just pawns for the elite ghouls, cleaning up the wild ones in the streets. When you die, they replace you."
"Got any proof?" Amon demanded.
"Nope." Altair admitted. "But it's easy to find. Grab a Washuu, test them. Not with those flimsy CCG gates that check RC cell levels, ghouls can game those with the right tricks." He pulled a syringe from his armor and set it on the table. "Use this."
"What's that?" Amon asked, eyeing it.
"A ghoul suppressant." Altair said. "Remember what I said about ghouls? They're humans with excess RC cells, granting special powers at the cost of eating human flesh. Their RC cells reject other food. This suppressant? It does nothing to humans. But for ghouls, even SSS-rank ones, it deactivates their RC cells permanently. They can eat normal food again and revert to being human."
Altair tapped the table, grinning. "Imagine a ghoul who thinks they're a god, suddenly stripped of power and made mortal. What do you think they'd do?"
***
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