"..."
Body usage rights again.
Mai and Megumi both turned toward Haruto. Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Mai asked bluntly:
"Ayame Yomogawa… she's a woman too, isn't she?"
Haruto tilted his head, eyes narrowing in faint amusement. "Of course. I'm not into men."
"Tch! That's not much better—being a pervert doesn't make you look any less shameless!"
Her voice snapped like a whip, full of frustration. What gnawed at her was not only his promiscuous attitude, but his utter lack of hesitation when it came to such things. She had already accepted Saeko Busujima, yet to hear that another woman was added so casually made her chest tighten in irritation.
To Mai, a pervert was still a pervert.
Haruto stretched lazily and waved them off, his tone light, almost teasing:
"Relax. I don't feel like arguing with you two. Do whatever you want—I'll be back soon."
With a faint ripple in the air, his figure vanished.
"He really disappeared!"
Megumi reached out, swiping her hand through the spot where he'd stood. Her palm touched only empty air.
Mai, seeing world-hopping for the very first time, blinked in awe—only for her lips to curl into a sharp sneer a moment later.
"Hmph. Running off like that… his mind's probably overflowing with dirty thoughts."
Megumi turned her calm gaze toward her, quiet eyes that seemed to pierce far deeper than words.
Then she asked, without hesitation, "Mai-san… do you like Haruto-kun?"
"Eh—?!"
Iwato Station
"Ayame-sama, we can't hold out any longer. You must escape first!"
The plea came from Kurusu, a young yet formidable samurai highly trusted by the Yomogawa family and especially close to Ayame herself.
But to say such words before the people… it was a spark thrown into dry grass.
"What? Ayame-sama will abandon us?!"
The crowd erupted into panic.
Ayame immediately stepped forward, her voice steady, firm. "Calm yourselves! I will never abandon you. Protecting Iwato Station is the duty of the Yomogawa family. That has never changed."
"B-but, Ayame-sama…"
Kurusu tried to argue again, but a sharp glare silenced him.
Ayame's heart sank. Why would Kurusu, normally so wise, speak such words now? If despair spread, their fragile unity would shatter. The only hope she clung to was the trade she had made—the deal that was supposed to bring salvation.
Yet how much longer could they last?
Just then, a girl stepped forward, carrying twin steam rifles with effortless confidence.
"I'll clear the way for you."
"Mumei?" Ayame blinked.
The girl was a guest of her father, known only by the name "Mumei." Beyond that, Ayame knew little about her.
Before Mumei could advance, however, another voice cut through the tense air—calm, playful, yet carrying an edge like a blade.
"Save your strength. This isn't your battlefield."
All eyes turned. A man was walking casually toward Ayame. His clothes were unlike anything they'd ever seen, out of place amidst soot and steel, yet he strode with the unshakable ease of someone who belonged everywhere.
Kurusu's instincts screamed. He immediately raised his steam rifle. "Who are you? Who allowed you near Ayame-sama—"
Boom!
The next instant, a violent gust tore through the air. Kurusu's body slammed into a wooden post, the thick beam splintering under the force. Blood spilled from his lips as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The crowd froze in stunned silence.
Haruto Amakawa slowly withdrew his raised foot, his expression devoid of warmth. His playful aura had vanished, replaced by something glacial. He glanced at Kurusu as though the man were no more than an insect.
"I don't like it when people point guns at me. Do it again, and you won't wake up."
"—!"
Shock rippled through everyone present.
Even Mumei's pupils shrank. She had broken her own restraints to gain superhuman speed, yet she hadn't been able to catch his movement.
Is he… also a Kabaneri?
Haruto turned back to Ayame, his tone suddenly lighter, almost mocking. "Your man insulted me. Before we complete the trade, I'll be collecting a little interest."
Before she could react, he caught her chin and pressed his lips to hers.
The crowd gasped in outrage.
Ayame-sama?!
"Ayame-sama!" a samurai cried, fury blazing in his eyes as he raised his weapon.
But Ayame quickly raised her hand to stop him. She could feel it—the cold indifference in Haruto's gaze. If another barrel was aimed at him, he would kill without hesitation. She couldn't afford to lose her men so recklessly.
It was only a kiss, she told herself. After all, she had already signed away the usage of her body. She had prepared for this.
And yet—her breath hitched. This wasn't just a kiss. It was deep, consuming, overwhelming.
When Haruto finally let her go, her chest rose and fell, her face flushed crimson.
He licked his lips, smirking. "Interest collected. Time to get to work."
[Ding! Trade initiated. Live broadcast beginning.]
Haruto walked past the crowd, ignoring their wide eyes. His gaze locked onto the street ahead, where dozens of Kabane feasted upon corpses.
Mumei stepped forward, concern flashing in her eyes. "Do you need help? Even a Kabaneri couldn't handle that many alone."
Haruto chuckled, low and amused.
"If I needed help with trash like this, my power wouldn't be worth a damn."
He raised his hand into the air and spoke.
"Freeze"
Crack.
A sound like shattering glass echoed, faint but unmistakable.
A moment later, a wave of bone-chilling frost exploded outward, sweeping down the street like a living storm.
"Huff—!"
Everyone shivered, their breath misting in the air. They stood frozen, staring as the world before them transformed.
The street, once drenched in blood and chaos, had become a field of ice and silence.