The dark red claw held Yoshitoki Washuu firmly in its grip. Amano Hiro turned to face the CCG officers who raised their guns but dared not move.
His deep, electric-tinged voice resonated across the night:
"Don't move, I'll give you a good show."
The words made Yoshitoki Washuu's body stiffen. Could it be... this monster really knew the Washuu family's secret?
As if to confirm his suspicion, that menacing voice whispered at his ear with the teasing of a cat playing with a mouse:
"Let's see... how long you can hold out."
Before the words had even faded, the nails on his other claw suddenly elongated—
Puchi!
The five sharp claws pierced through his chest without obstruction.
With the tearing of fabric, his uniform was shredded violently, revealing five gaping, bleeding holes.
Amano Hiro carefully observed the wounds slowly writhing as they began to heal and let out a mocking, cold laugh:
"No matter how much you suppress your regeneration, a ghoul's healing speed far surpasses that of a human."
His voice rose sharply, ensuring every investigator could hear:
"Stop struggling. In front of your subordinates, release a kagune—let them all see the true face of this esteemed Director!"
Yoshitoki Washuu gritted his teeth, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and retorted word by word:
"You... you won't... succeed... in your evil plan..."
"Director," Amano Hiro tilted his head, his tone laced with mock indignation, "don't make me sound like the villain here, alright?"
In an instant, the situation shifted again!
Seeing his secret on the verge of exposure, Yoshitoki Washuu shouted sharply at Arima Kishou: "Kishou! What are you waiting for?!"
Arima Kishou reacted immediately. The muzzle of Narukami sparked with blinding electricity as a thick bolt shot straight at Amano Hiro!
But Amano Hiro had anticipated this. With a swift sidestep alongside Yoshitoki Washuu, he effortlessly dodged. His electric-laced voice carried a clear teasing:
"That won't do—the show hasn't even started yet."
At the same time, Itsuki Marude had regrouped, holding his quinque as he charged again, shouting: "Carnage! Release the Director immediately!"
Amano Hiro did not release his grip. Instead, he lifted Yoshitoki Washuu high like a shield and faced Marude.
"Special-Class Investigator Marude, take a good look—does this look like human recovery?"
Marude's gaze snapped to Yoshitoki Washuu's chest. The five shocking blood holes from moments before had completely healed, leaving only traces of coagulated blood.
This defiance of all logic made his pupils shrink and sent a wave of shock through his mind.
The surrounding investigators exchanged bewildered glances, their faces full of doubt and hesitation.
"This is the CCG's latest research!" Yoshitoki Washuu shouted urgently, trying to stabilize morale.
"A trial drug that enhances regenerative ability! I personally participated in human testing! Do not let this evil ghoul manipulate you!"
Then, in a resolute tone, he commanded: "All units, heed my order! Do not consider me—attack with full force! Drive 'Carnage' out of here!"
Yet, the combination of his command and the unnatural healing ability left most officers frozen in doubt.
Only Arima Kishou stepped forward once more and launched an attack.
Amano Hiro countered with a fierce strike, forcing him back, then left Marude with words heavy with meaning:
"Special-Class Investigator Marude, you've seen the show. I trust... you'll judge for yourself. Heh heh heh..."
Before the words could fade, his dark red energy surged violently. Countless sharp spikes materialized around him out of thin air!
"Everyone, hit the deck!!" Marude's roar nearly broke his voice.
Shu shu shu!
The dense sound of air being torn apart was like the whispers of the Reaper. Dark red spikes rained down indiscriminately from all directions!
Officers who failed to dodge in time were pierced, screaming as they fell.
When the deadly "downpour" ceased and Marude lifted his head, the center of the battlefield was empty.
The dark red terror was gone.
The Director was gone.
All that remained was a ruined battlefield, littered with chaos and unanswered questions.
Arima Kishou stood calmly in the rubble, exhaling slowly. Behind his glasses, his eyes were as serene as a deep pool, staring toward the direction Amano Hiro had disappeared.
The night wind swept over his blood-stained white uniform but could not disperse the lingering stench of blood and gunpowder.
As the dark red figure vanished, the sounds of battle gradually quieted.
Aogiri Tree members melted into the shadows of the streets like a retreating tide, leaving a scene of devastation and scattered corpses.
The surviving investigators stood motionless amid the wreckage, faces a mixture of dazed relief and disbelief.
Some unconsciously repeated bandaging wounds, others stared blankly at the remains of the command vehicle.
Everything that had happened tonight had far exceeded anything they could comprehend.
Marude stood beside the command vehicle turned scrap, his knuckles pale from gripping too hard.
He silently scanned the battlefield, taking in the frozen forms, and finally forced the words out through clenched teeth:
"Clear the battlefield. Rescue the wounded."
The command fell like a stone into still water, awakening the stunned investigators.
They suppressed their tumultuous thoughts and threw themselves into rescue work.
Stretchers weaved between the rubble. Blood-soaked bandages glimmered under the moonlight.
Every movement was urgent and mechanical, as if staying busy could temporarily erase the night's horrifying truth.
The concrete on the rooftop cracked under pressure. Debris flew.
The massive dark red figure landed with a thunderous impact, casually tossing the unconscious Yoshitoki Washuu to Yoshimura Eto's feet.
The dark red shell covering his body receded like a tide, revealing Amano Hiro's lean form.
He adjusted his collar, a playful smirk curling his lips:
"How was it? Pretty good harvest for tonight's performance, huh?"
Beneath her bandages, Yoshimura Eto's lips curved into an unmistakable expression of delight. Her voice brimmed with excitement:
"Yes, a very fruitful harvest."
She stepped forward and looked up at Amano Hiro.
"Hiro, your strength is truly astonishing."
Amano Hiro gently kicked the unconscious Yoshitoki Washuu with the tip of his shoe.
"Are you satisfied with this gift? You've... probably already collaborated with Kanou Akihiro, right?"
"Nope-" Eto raised a finger, her tone sly and teasing. "It should be 'we,' not 'you,' Hiro."
She glanced at the "gift" at her feet, her tone filled with meaning:
"But this gift is perfect. The Washuu pureblood... as a donor, it couldn't be more fitting."
"If you're satisfied, that's enough." Amano Hiro put his hands in his pockets and turned toward the edge of the rooftop.
"I need to see where my little darling wandered off to."
Before the words had faded, he leapt into the night sky.
The wind roared past him as a pair of dark red wings suddenly unfurled from his back, propelling him like an arrow into the darkness, quickly merging with the night.