Thirty Minutes Later.
Kurumi Tokisaki had long since departed, leaving only the Port Mafia's cleanup crew to handle the scene.
Several black Port Mafia vehicles were parked outside the factory, with fully armed members standing guard, wary of potential enemies while protecting the important figure inside.
Within the factory, the newly arrived Mori Ōgai surveyed his surroundings.
Standing amidst over twenty corpses—all withered away unnaturally—his expression remained eerily calm. He even crouched down, leaning in close to examine one of the bodies.
"Boss, here are the documents you requested."
"Good work."
Taking the files from his subordinate, Mori flipped through the resumes of the Oumi Alliance members until he found one that bore a faint resemblance to the corpse before him.
Comparing the photo of a young, muscular gangster to the shriveled, elderly remains—and confirming the matching tattoos—Mori fell silent.
Without a doubt, these corpses had all been gangsters between twenty and forty years old just half an hour ago.
Yet, for some unknown reason, they had rapidly aged, as if their very life force had been drained, leaving them as withered husks before death claimed them.
Well… perhaps not entirely unknown.
Kurumi Tokisaki—that mysterious, dangerous girl—had done something to them, resulting in this grotesque form of "natural death."
"No fatal wounds, no signs of poisoning, no visible suffering before death. Just like elderly people passing peacefully in their sleep." As a doctor, Mori quickly pieced together the facts. "It seems this, too, is the work of Miss Tokisaki's ability. I grow more and more curious… just what is her power?"
He stood up, addressing the waiting cleanup crew. "Handle the aftermath. Dispose of these bodies discreetly—except for one. Preserve it in the morgue. I'll conduct an autopsy myself when I have time."
"Understood, Boss."
The mafia members filed in, beginning their grim task.
"Truly chilling."
A tense, irritated voice sounded beside Mori. "Sometimes I wonder… between humans and me, which one is the real monster?"
"Ah, Chūya. You've finally arrived." Mori turned to the man in the tailored suit and fedora. "So, what are your thoughts after seeing this?"
Nakahara Chūya—one of the Port Mafia's five executives, leader of the armed forces.
The organization's strongest trump card, a superhuman feared even by the government. In a way, his existence was the reason officials turned a blind eye to the Port Mafia's crimes.
At his peak, he could level a city without breaking a sweat. Even on a global scale, few could rival him.
"Thoughts? Don't make it sound like you invited me to a damn show." Chūya clicked his tongue in annoyance. "If I'd known you were dragging me out here tonight, I would've 'missed' your message and gone to bed."
"But isn't this precisely the performance our new member has given us?" Mori spread his arms. "I provided the stage, yet her act still managed to astonish me."
"Boss, you're overworked. Doctors make the worst patients—go see a psychiatrist." Chūya's eye twitched. "I've seen my share of corpses, and killed more than I can count, but this… honestly, it just disgusts me. Where the hell did this monster even come from?"
"I'd like to know the answer to that myself." Mori shrugged. "But Miss Tokisaki wasn't recruited by me. She came to us willingly, and for… certain reasons, I allowed her into the organization."
"And you're sure that was the right call?"
"If by 'right' you mean 'profitable for the Port Mafia,' then yes. Absolutely."
"…Hope you're right."
"You seem quite hostile toward Miss Tokisaki, Chūya." Mori glanced at him. "You haven't even met her yet. No need for such animosity. You're colleagues now—you'll be working together eventually. I'd prefer my executives to get along."
"Yeah, well, she's the first person I've hated before even meeting." Chūya scoffed. "Boss, when you pick people, could you maybe consider my feelings? Every damn time you take a liking to someone, I can't stand them."
"That sounds like a you problem, Chūya." Mori chuckled. "The people I favor bring value to the organization. Whether or not they click with you is something you'll have to adjust to."
"And in your eyes, Kurumi Tokisaki is valuable?"
"Naturally."
"Even after seeing this?"
"Seeing what?"
"These corpses—drained of their life, tossed aside like garbage."
"To me, they're just corpses." Mori's voice was eerily calm. "Beheaded, poisoned, shot, bled dry, or having their life force sucked out—death is death. Is there really a difference?"
"Tch… if you say so." Chūya's expression darkened. "Just give me her file. I might hate her methods, but if we're stuck working together, I'll try to tolerate her… After all, nobody could possibly be worse than Dazai."
"File? I don't have one."
"…What?" Chūya's eyes widened.
"Exactly what I said." Mori smiled innocently. "Her ability, her real age, name, nationality, past—none of it exists."
"Have you lost your mind?" Chūya stared at him like he was insane. "You let some shady nobody into the organization?!"
"As I said… special circumstances."
"Boss, you—"
Chūya wanted to argue, but after working under Mori for so long, he knew—when the boss said "special circumstances," it meant even he wasn't privy to the details.
Which meant Kurumi Tokisaki's induction into the Port Mafia was already set in stone.
Protesting would be pointless.
With an irritated "tch," Chūya turned on his heel and stormed out of the factory.
Left alone, Mori's gaze swept over the withered faces once more, his eyes darkening.
"Have we truly encountered a man-eating demon this time…?"
Recalling his conversation with Kurumi Tokisaki, he murmured under his breath.
"I wonder… is this fortune, or misfortune?"
--+--