"Welcome~"
As the bell on the café's door chimed, a young man dressed in a pale gray suit nodded slightly to the smiling girl at the counter.
"The usual."
Without another word, he took his seat by the window, silently staring out at the street.
He really is a strange one…
Ever since that day Touka learned his true identity from Yoshimura-san, her emotions had been tangled and complicated. He wasn't just an Investigator—he was a highly efficient executioner. She desperately wanted to kill him, but feared drawing unwanted CCG attention to the café. So she buried those feelings deep inside. Yet what she never expected was that even though she had given up on attacking him, he seemed to have inexplicably taken a liking to this café.
From his first visit until today, more than ten days had passed, and he appeared almost every single day. Usually he'd come around five or six in the afternoon, though sometimes as late as seven or eight. On those late evenings, he always carried the faint scent of blood.
An ordinary human might never notice, but for a Ghoul, that scent was far too familiar.
Today, Lancer sat at his usual seat by the window, silently drinking coffee and eating dessert. Normally, he'd leave after about half an hour.
But today was unusual—after finishing his food, he didn't leave. He just sat there, staring blankly outside.
What was wrong with him today? He'd arrived later than usual; perhaps something Ghoul-related had happened?
Seeing the café empty except for him, Touka hesitated briefly, but finally approached him, carrying her complicated feelings toward Investigators.
"Lancer-san, is something bothering you today?"
At Touka's question, Lancer's shoulders flinched visibly, as though startled from deep thought, before turning around with a bitter smile.
I really am an idiot… to forget this is the enemy's home turf.
After that bitter smile, however, he sighed once more.
"It's nothing important, just… some work-related things…"
At the mention of "work," Touka's ears immediately perked up. Information about the CCG was extremely valuable. If she could get something from him, it would be ideal. Still, she knew she couldn't appear overly interested, lest he suspect her identity.
"Is it something you can talk about? If it helps, you can tell me—but if not, it's fine."
"It's not really a secret. Today, the CCG organized a small-scale extermination operation…"
Lancer could clearly sense Touka's tension spike beside him. He knew exactly why—but right now, he just desperately needed someone to vent to.
Within the CCG, some of his views bordered on heresy. Ever since arriving in this world, he'd lived under relentless stress, and when he finally wanted to talk, he realized he had no one.
His heart heavy and thoughts muddled, he hesitated briefly before continuing.
"At first, it was just another typical operation. Given my recent record, I led the attack myself and personally exterminated two Ghouls. But then I received a distress call from a teammate. By the time I reached him…"
"Your teammate was killed by a Ghoul?"
Touka, as a Ghoul herself, felt an instinctive thrill hearing that a CCG Investigator might have died. Unfortunately, Lancer shook his head.
"No. He was badly injured, but we managed to save him. The real problem was his opponent… Although I've only been an Investigator for a few months, my instincts tell me the Ghoul never intended to kill him…"
At this point, Lancer's throat felt unbearably dry. He instinctively searched his pockets for cigarettes, found none, then took out a piece of gum instead, chewing it as he took a deep breath before continuing.
"Later, after investigating, we concluded that Ghoul belonged to the 'Corpse Collector' type."
Lancer had obviously skipped some details, but those weren't important. For Investigators, only two classifications mattered: Human or Ghoul. Everything else was irrelevant.
Yet Touka trembled slightly, breathing unevenly.
She had somewhat accepted Lancer's identity as an Investigator over the past few days, enough to hold a normal conversation with him. But whenever Ghouls or "Corpse Collectors" were mentioned, her heart still felt chaotic. Without thinking, she blurted out a question she absolutely shouldn't have asked:
"Were you… the one who exterminated that Ghoul?"
"No."
"If it had been you, though… would you have done it?"
"…"
This time, Lancer didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared blankly out the window, lost in thought. Finally, he responded vaguely:
"That's exactly what I've been struggling with."
But for some reason, Touka wasn't ready to let it go.
"Have you found an answer?"
"…"
Again, silence was her only answer. But soon enough, Lancer turned back toward her, his expression unusually solemn and serious.
"I think I would—because I'm an Investigator."
Touka had hoped for an unusual answer. Given his hesitation, his conflicted emotions, she had expected confusion or doubt, even if he gave the same answer in the end. Yet instead, he spoke with absolute conviction.
"But why? Corpse Collectors don't attack humans…"
"There is no 'why.' They're Ghouls, and I'm human. Maybe you're right—maybe Corpse Collectors truly never harm humans. But that only applies as long as they remain 'Corpse Collectors.' What if one day they aren't? Or what about their children? Can we really be sure they'd continue this lifestyle forever? No one knows—no one can guarantee it!"
Before Touka could finish, Lancer had cut her off. His reason filled her with disgust—made her want to vomit. But…
If he truly felt this way, why did he suddenly look so exhausted afterward, as though all strength had left him?
Exactly as Touka suspected, Lancer—who'd survived a Ghoul attack and even nearly gotten spawn-killed—harbored a deep-rooted loathing toward "Ghouls" as a species.
From a purely human perspective, both ordinary Ghouls and Corpse Collectors were potential threats. Exterminating them was entirely justified. If he hadn't known the truth of the "plot," he would have gladly hunted them, proudly calling himself a hero for humanity.
But precisely because he knew the plot, he knew that Ghouls had feelings—they experienced joy, anger, sorrow, and longing. He understood that some genuinely desired peaceful lives among humans…
That was why he couldn't completely steel his heart.
Sometimes… ignorance truly is bliss…
Despite being only in his early twenties, perhaps from the endless blood he'd spilled over these past few months, he found himself bitterly reflecting with a melancholy unusual for his age.