It was Yoshimura who finally broke the silence.
"…Right."
He let out a soft sigh, walked over to Touka, and gently patted her shoulder with his large hand.
His voice returned to that usual calm and reassuring tone:
"Touka, looks like tonight's tracking wore you out. When you're too tense for too long, it's easy to start seeing things."
"Go on upstairs and get some rest. We'll take care of that drifter."
Touka could feel the warmth from his hand—and the concern hidden behind his words.
She pressed her lips together tightly.
Her indigo eyes still showed some resistance, but in the end, all she could do was nod.
That strange, invisible force she'd felt earlier… she couldn't explain it at all.
"…Okay, Manager," she said quietly.
She didn't look back at the bizarre screen floating in front of her anymore.
Head down, she walked silently toward the stairs.
With each step, the weight of that unspoken secret pressed heavier on her chest.
The cozy amber lights of the café still glowed.
The jazz music kept playing softly in the background.
But in the air now, a heavy tension lingered—one that refused to go away.
Kirishima Touka disappeared around the corner of the staircase.
Downstairs, the four seasoned ghouls remained where they were, each silently lost in thought.
…
Upstairs – Anteiku, Second Floor Bedroom
Click.
Touka locked the bedroom door behind her.
Leaning against the cold doorframe, she let out a long breath.
The warmth of the café, and the concern from the others, felt like they'd been shut out with the turn of the lock.
All that remained was the sound of her quickened heartbeat—and the faint hum of the city beyond the window.
She walked over and sat down on the bed.
Her eyes locked onto the soft, glowing virtual screen that hovered in the air right in front of her.
[Trade Chat Group]
The title looked like it had been branded into her vision.
Back downstairs, the others couldn't sense it at all.
Even when she'd tried to speak up about it, she found she couldn't say any related words—as if something was choking her voice before it reached her throat.
That invisible pressure still haunted her.
"Was it… just a hallucination?"
She whispered.
Her indigo eyes were filled with suspicion and confusion.
But deep down, she knew—this was no hallucination.
That cold system-like chime.
That perfectly clear floating screen.
It all felt too real.
After a moment of hesitation, she slowly reached out her hand.
Her fingertip passed right through it.
It was like it wasn't even there—no sensation, no temperature.
Touka frowned slightly.
She focused, and in her mind, asked: What is this?
The instant the thought formed, the screen reacted.
Under the simple group name, a new panel unfolded like digital pages flipping open—line after line of text started to appear.
…
[Quick Overview of Chat Group Rules]
1. This group connects countless worlds across the multiverse. Members are from entirely different universes.
2. Communication happens via thought, auto-translated into whatever language the recipient understands.
3. Anyone in the group can send the admin a trade request to initiate a purposeful cross-world transaction.
...
As the rules displayed, a surge of knowledge rushed into her brain like a flood.
Concepts like multiverse, alternate dimensions, world points, and cross-realm trades—they all made sudden, terrifying sense.
It was mind-blowing.
But the more she understood, the more unreal it all felt.
"Connects… to other worlds?"
Touka instinctively slapped her hand over her mouth, barely stopping herself from gasping out loud.
Her pupils shrank. Her heart rate skyrocketed.
To her, the world of ghouls and humans was already complicated and cruel enough.
And now this?
This thing was telling her there were countless other worlds beyond the café, beyond the 20th Ward, beyond even the CCG's reach?
And she—just an S-rated ghoul trying to survive—
had somehow been pulled into a chat group that let her talk to beings from other universes?
It was crazier than being surrounded by a hundred Special Class Investigators.
Her chest tightened as her heart pounded wildly.
Blood rushed to her head.
She forced herself to breathe.
"Phew… calm down…"
She took a few deep breaths, grounding herself.
Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar rules again.
Reading them over gave everything a terrifying sense of reality.
This mysterious group—it shattered everything she thought she knew.
It was like someone had handed her the key to a door.
And behind that door… infinite possibilities, and infinite unknowns.
Fear. Curiosity.
And… maybe just a tiny spark of hope.
It all stirred inside her.
She gave up on trying to explain it to the Manager for now. There was no way she could—not when the group itself had the power to block her words.
It made sense.
Something this powerful would naturally come with rules she couldn't break.
For now, she'd observe.
She needed to see who else was in this group.
What they talked about.
What exactly these "trades" meant.
Until she figured it all out, staying silent and alert was her best bet.
She took a breath, focused—
—and tried to mentally connect with the chat section of the screen.
…
Elsewhere, In a Different World…
Night had fallen over the mountain‑locked town of Itomori.
Far from the chaos of the cities, only the sounds of insects, wind, and the gentle ripple of the lake could be heard.
Halfway up the mountain, the Miyamizu Shrine glowed with light.
The air was solemn.
A sacred ritual was underway.
Tonight was the formal succession ceremony—Mitsuha Miyamizu was becoming the shrine's next priestess.
Clean mats were laid across the shrine courtyard.
Villagers in traditional clothing knelt quietly on either side, their expressions serious and respectful.
At the center, a bonfire burned brightly—casting flickering light over the figure of the dancing miko.