Chapter 7 — The Edge of Choice
The silence after the night raid did not bring the weekend.
It would seem that the solution was simple: the ghoul is an enemy, it must be eliminated. But the words of the ghoul boy and Haruki pierced Kaneki much more than any look from the claw or the quinque.
He did not sleep all night.
"You are still a human." — Haruki's voice rang out in his head.
He looked at the ceiling of the barracks, gritting his teeth. For his actions, he received neither coins nor rewards. But the system gave a different result:
Event: "Manifestation of Humanity"
Reward: Access to the passive stat branch — Resistance to Bitterness of the Forehead and Willpower I
Warning: Private manifestations of morality may prompt tactical decisions. Are you sure you are on the right path?
Kaneki did not answer. He himself did not know. And, perhaps, he should not have known.
Not now.
The morning at the CCG headquarters greeted him as always - formation, briefing, light coffee. There was no news.
Only one new portrait was added to the wall below: another agent, fallen in battle with a Class A ghoul.
Haruka stood silently next to him. On his face - care, in his eyes - the same: sympathy, understanding ... and a slight reproach.
"You could have killed him," she said. "No one would have judged you."
"But I would have judged you."
"And yet you became stronger," she answered quietly. "Inside. That is much more important.
Training ground. 12:13
The training ground was stuffy. Kaneki was training alone. Thick bags, simulated humanoid targets, an artificial simulator of ghoul claws.
He moved very quickly, precisely, each of his blows was calculated to the millimeter.
"Skill: Such Breathing Activated."
"Skill: Pain Threshold I: Adrenaline Mixture Enabled."
Every day he improved. Not for glory. Not for recognition. But because he knew that if he stopped, he would die. And not only him.
Suddenly the door to the training ground opened.
A tall man in a strict dark gray suit walked inside. Short-cropped gray hair, a cold gaze. The legend of the CCG.
Arima Kishou.
Kaneki froze.
He knew who it was. He had heard about him from the first days - "God of Death", the best investigator, a living nightmare for ghouls.
But seeing him in person is a completely different matter.
"You, Kaneki Ken?" Aritma asked. Her voice was even, emotionless.
"Yes sir," he answered, trying not to show his excitement.
"You disobeyed orders. According to protocol, the target should have been destroyed. But he didn't.
A pause. Kaneki looked into his eyes and felt like a clock in a mirror that reflected emptiness.
- Why?
He didn't beat around the bush:
- What I saw in him wasn't a monster, but a child.
- A mistake. - Arima didn't hang around. - A ghoul is a ghoul, regardless of age. Today he cries. Tomorrow, he tears out someone's throat.
- I understand. But I made a choice.
Arima came closer, stood opposite him.
- Then you need the money that you deserve for your hunter uniform. Tomorrow, a training battle. With me. At your own speed. Prepare yourself. If you survive, you might be transferred to a rank 1 combat group.
He turned and left.
Evening. Medical wing.
Haruka was treating the wrist of one of the convicted agents when she saw Kaneki. He was standing by the door, silent, thoughtful.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"The fight with Arima is tomorrow."
"What? You... You're not kidding?"
She came closer.
"It's suicide. Even experienced operatives are afraid to go up against him."
"And I'm not going to lose."
"You don't stand a chance! He's..."
"I know who he is." Kaneki shook the pieces. "But I don't want to be a shadow anymore. I want to find something more. I'm not just a boy with a uniform. I'm a blade. Only he must belong to my principles."
Haruka looked at him with concern, but there was still the slightest admiration in her gaze.
"Then promise. If you survive, you'll have lunch with me.
He chuckled:
— I promise.
Night. Before the battle.
He sat in a crescent moon in the Barracks. The system worked quietly.
Temporary buffs for one fighter are available.
Reflexive Impulse: 30% reaction effect (50 coins)
Presensitivity Zone: Reactive danger avoidance (70 coins)
Combat Adaptation I: Real-time appearance analysis (80 coins)
He had only 135 coins.
He chose:
Combat Adaptation I
Reflexive Impulse
5 coins left. A trifle, but perhaps a saving one.
Confirmation: skills will only be active for 12 minutes from the onset of fear.
"That will be enough. Or not. But I will not retreat."
The next morning. Closed-class training ground. 07:59
The employees watched them through the armored glass.
Haruka stood slightly to the side in a white coat. Her eyes were burning with tension.
"Fight until first blood," one of the instructors announced. "Or until unconsciousness. Let's begin!"
Arima moved first. Without emotion. Abruptly. His speed was inhuman. Kaneki barely had time to react.
"Reflexive impulse active."
"Adaptation: Defeat style - blitz + minimalism. Right strike - 0.8 seconds."
Kaneki dodged. Then again. The third strike almost grazed his temple.
He felt his hand shaking, but he kept moving. He used dodges, low dodges, Dives.
Each of his steps is an analysis of the result.
Each of Arima's movements is pure art.
At the 4th minute, Kaneki decided to attack. A sharp lunge forward. A side step. A strike.
He felt resistance as his hand slid along Arima's armor.
He retreated. For the first time. Half a step.
A look of surprise flashed in the eyes of those around him.
Five, six, seven exchanges of blows.
Finally, Arima retreated and raised her hand:
- Many.
Later, in the locker room, he approached Kaneki:
- You didn't lose. But you didn't win either. You did the impossible: you survived. Which means you deserve more.
He left the pen on the bench.
- Group order to transfer to the first level operational room. Signed. Welcome to the real hunt.
Haruka was waiting for him at the exit.
He approached her with a slight limp. His lip was split, but there was fire in his eyes.
- A promise is a promise, he said.
- Then let's go.
She took his hand. He didn't pull away.
The world didn't become brighter.
Ghouls still devoured people.
The system was still necessary for blood.
But something new appeared inside him.
A thread that connected him to life. To himself. To her.