"But..."
Doctor Sumire, who was scrutinizing the Gastrea samples, suddenly stopped and sharply turned to face Asahi behind her.
"... compared to the Gastrea, I'm more interested in you."
Sumire narrowed her eyes, carefully assessing the "person" before her. She took the trouble to drag herself out of her private lab today because she wanted to see him with her own eyes. With Sumire's status, she fundamentally didn't need to worry about the logistics of receiving research materials; she could just sit in her room and wait for the samples to be delivered every day.
Although he had covered most of his body with coarse cloth, from his height and his face, it was clear he was not using his true human appearance to meet people; he seemed to be equipped with some kind of full-body armor. However, instead of removing the armor as usual, this person chose to wear a cloak over it to avoid attention, which honestly felt a bit like hiding one's head but exposing one's tail.
"Is it an extreme lack of a sense of security?"
Sumire had encountered such cases before. But for some reason, she felt the person in front of her was not one of them.
His ability to conceal his true strength had even fooled someone like Kagetane Hiruko, so of course a researcher like Sumire couldn't see anything extraordinary. But it was precisely that "inability to see anything" that made her pay close attention.
She could not see through this person.
"How interesting. Since when did a person like you appear in Tokyo?"
Asahi frowned, not replying. Sumire smiled lightly, not disappointed.
"Alright, here is your money. The samples are very high quality. If you have more, just keep coming here. I'll buy as much as you bring."
"Thank you."
Asahi reached out to take the money, revealing the shape of his Dragon Form arm. The researcher's eyes widened, as if she wanted to memorize this image.
He paid no mind, took the money, and turned to leave, leaving her to watch his retreating back, arms crossed over her chest, until he disappeared down the hospital corridor.
...
"Hmm... Magata Public Hospital. Seems like a good place."
Asahi thought to himself. He then followed his planned route to a store, bought some tools, and put them into a new cloth bag; the old one was stained with Gastrea blood, so he had discarded it.
Although Asahi felt that not much time had passed, the sun had already begun its descent. It was now late afternoon.
Because he had to shop, this trip took longer than usual. It was time to return to meet the children.
However, on his way back, he suddenly encountered a pursuit scene in front of him.
A little girl with long, messy hair, wearing a crumpled, old, and stained dress, carrying a basket of food, was frantically running away from a crowd of adults chasing her. The girl's face was pale and sallow, and her whole body was thin, as if she hadn't eaten or rested properly for a long time.
When such a situation occurs, it can only be because this girl is a Cursed Child.
Gasp! Gasp! Gasp!
The girl, carrying the basket of food, slowed down more and more. Her breathing was becoming chaotic. Although the Gastrea virus granted Cursed Children physical abilities far exceeding ordinary people, it depended on the situation. In her weak physical state and with insufficient nutrition, it was a miracle if she could exert the strength of a normal person.
"Red eyes! It's a Cursed Child!"
"Damn it! Catch that monster!"
"Get her!"
Hearing the shouts getting closer, the girl tried harder to run, but clumsily tripped over her own feet, tumbled forward, and fell flat on the ground. The basket of food was crushed, sending canned goods, bread, and bruised vegetables scattering and sticking to the dirt.
"No..."
The girl whimpered weakly, but as soon as her little head peeked up, it was immediately and violently pressed down by several rough hands, slamming onto the pavement. Those people had absolutely no pity.
"Let me go..."
"We got the monster!"
"Thieving scum! You are the dregs of Tokyo!"
"You deserve to die, Gastrea!"
"Go to hell, you red-eyes!"
The girl struggled, but compared to the rough hands trying to pin her down, the curses and insults from the surrounding people were the sharpest weapons. She had heard this too many times, too much, but every time it felt like a knife cutting into her heart.
"Why..."
"Why am I treated like this..."
"Is it just because of these red eyes... why do those people say I killed their families..."
"I didn't... do anything..."
"Perhaps, I was born a sin, a monster?"
Because they had been influenced for so long and so deeply, the Cursed Children hated humans, but also viewed themselves as something sinful and inferior deep in their consciousness. This could not be blamed on the children; they were still too innocent, too naive to confront something called "society" or "imposition."
The pitiful ones only wanted to hurt each other. Both ridiculous and truly sad.
But then, he arrived.
The pressure on her head suddenly vanished, and the filthy sounds around her stopped. The Cursed Child girl opened her eyes in surprise; the world around her seemed to have been purified.
She looked up and saw a tall figure standing in front of her, dressed in a dark brown coarse cloth cloak that covered his entire body. His outstretched arm looked like a meticulously crafted and beautiful machine limb, gleaming with silver light, holding the arm that had pressed her down. It truly mismatched the cloth cloak, like an emperor wearing beggar's clothes.
Everyone around, except for the Cursed Child girl, whether it was the chasers or those who had cursed her, fell silent for a moment. This was because this bizarre figure suddenly became "tall" and strangely imposing.
His Dragon Form, even when he was maximally restricted, was still an existence of world-ending catastrophe level. He only needed to release a little bit of his aura to scare those people half to death.
But that didn't last long. Without realizing it, he had stopped using this method frequently. This was because Asahi had pondered over a lesson.
The Strong, are also the Wicked.
If he truly abused this power, warping the will of the weaker at any time, oppressing the weaker with violence, then no matter what his goal was, he would still be a wicked person.
It's not that he couldn't use it; he just shouldn't over-abuse it. For example, in this situation.
When he felt it was quiet enough, Asahi retracted his aura. Everyone nearby suddenly snapped back to attention, as if they had just experienced an illusion.
"Why are you chasing this little girl?"
He asked the man in front of him. Although intimidated by this strange individual, the man still had to speak up and reply.
"This kid always steals around here. We just wanted to catch her."
"That's right, she committed a crime."
"Could that be... a Civil Security Officer? Is that why he's defending that monster?"
Whispers began to circulate around them. Although they intentionally spoke softly so he wouldn't hear, Asahi still caught every word.