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Tokyo, 20th Ward.
Anteiku café.
In the cramped attic, Touka Kirishima slowly let out a long breath, pressing down—for now—the shock and faint longing stirred by the magic she'd just felt through the group chat from another world. She rubbed her tired eyes and closed the group interface in her mind, the one only she could see.
Going to another world to watch magic duels… it did sound tempting—especially for someone trapped in the brutal swirl of ghoul vs. human and ghoul vs. ghoul. A display of power within rules carried a luxury of civilization she rarely saw.
Rei Ao would be taking them, and that sparked a quiet thread of anticipation in her heart.
But that would have to wait.
Break time was over. Work called.
She quickly changed into Anteiku's dark server uniform, smoothed her short navy hair, and tried to rein in the chill that belonged to a ghoul, making herself look more like an ordinary, slightly aloof part-time waitress.
She pushed open the attic door and headed down the narrow stairs. There were more customers than before in the afternoon rush, and the air was richer with the smell of coffee and pastries.
But as she reached the turn of the stairs, ready to step into the first-floor dining area, a figure blocked her path.
Renji Yomo.
He still wore his server's apron, but the usual gentle smile was gone from his face, replaced by rare gravity and caution. He gave Touka a small nod, signaling her not to go down yet, and flicked his eyes toward a spot by the window.
Sensing trouble, Touka's heart tightened; she followed his gaze.
At the booth by the window, the clumsy human part-timer Ken Kaneki was standing there, looking a little ill at ease. Sitting across from him was a woman.
At first glance she seemed the picture of gentle composure: a well-tailored white dress tracing an elegant figure; a waterfall of smooth purple hair with softly curled ends; rimless glasses over eyes that curved like they were smiling. She lifted a delicate coffee cup with her pinky slightly raised—her posture flawless. Sunshine streamed through the glass, wrapping her in a soft halo.
It looked peaceful and lovely, like a scene from an art film.
But every muscle in Touka's body went taut in an instant.
A deep-red glint—her kakugan—flashed in her eyes and was forcibly suppressed.
Ghoul.
And… not an ordinary one.
Beneath that gentle facade seeped a tightly veiled yet almost tangible stench of blood—thick, chaotic, crazed with hunger. Like rotten roses mixed with iron rust. Even across the room, it stabbed at Touka's sharpened ghoul senses.
The mood in the café shifted. Other patrons kept chatting or sipping coffee, but Touka could feel it: the ghouls among them were watching the purple-haired woman with open wariness—and the faintest hint of fear. Their bodies were coiled, prey in the presence of a natural enemy. Even the soothing jazz in the air seemed to tighten a string.
"Who is she?" Touka asked under her breath, teeth almost clenched. She'd never seen this woman in the 20th Ward, but the strength and danger rolling off her triggered a primal unease.
Yomo's gaze stayed locked on the seemingly harmless figure by the window. His voice was very low, heavier than she'd ever heard it. "Kamishiro Rize. From the 11th Ward. A binge-eater whose appetite is out of control. Codename—'Glutton.'"
Glutton.
Touka's pupils shrank hard. The name coiled around her heart like a cold snake.
Last night's findings: SS rating, frenzied feeding, a Special Class "Dove" investigator stationed in the 20th Ward…
It all connected.
The source of the ward's chaos and danger was sitting at Anteiku's window like a refined lady, chatting and laughing with their clueless human part-timer.
The scene was… wrong. Completely at odds with everything "Glutton" meant. A shameless madwoman who devoured humans for sport—why would she patiently sit there, smiling gently, and make small talk with an ordinary teenage boy?
There was only one answer: the prey had entered the predator's sights.
Ken Kaneki.
The little white rabbit who'd wandered into a ghoul's den, trailing an irresistible scent, had already been added to Kamishiro Rize's hunting list. That gentleness was nothing but a cruel game—the tease before the kill.
Touka looked at Kaneki again. He seemed soothed by Rize's tenderness; some of the tension had left his face. He even showed a small, shy smile, listening intently—eyes behind his glasses full of guileless innocence and… stupidity.
Pity—cold and edged with irritation—rose in Touka's chest. This human kid had no idea what kind of monster he was talking to. He was one step from death.
"What do we… do?" Touka's voice came out dry. She looked to Yomo, a deep crimson flicker ghosting in her eyes. Were they really going to let the culprit behind the ward's unrest do as she pleased?
Yomo shook his head, heavy with helplessness. "Manager says hold position. No rash moves. Kamishiro Rize is too dangerous. For now, we can only watch from the shadows."
He stressed those words, and the powerlessness in his tone was clear. Protecting Anteiku and the people under its roof took absolute priority. To provoke an SS-class lunatic—and the Doves who could show up at any time—just for a human?
The price was too high.
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