Splash—
The intermittent sound of water falling on bathroom tiles echoed softly through the apartment. Sitting on the small sofa, Fueguchi Ryouko felt as though her heart was suspended, trembling in midair. Perhaps this was the feeling people described as "waiting for death is worse than facing death itself."
She feared what that man might do to her, yet at the same time, desperately hoped sacrificing herself could protect Hinami. This complicated, contradictory feeling made her restless, like sitting on a bed of nails.
Pat, pat…
Suddenly, the sound of bare feet padding against the wooden floor snapped her spine straight. She watched tensely as the Investigator sat down opposite her, dressed in a simple shirt and shorts.
"You'll sleep here in the living room tonight. Tomorrow I'll go rent a new place outside. Although I imagine news about today will spread through the branch tomorrow, you two should just stay at home. If you need anything, just tell me directly. Alright, I'm exhausted—I'm going to bed."
With that, Lancer stood decisively and returned to his bedroom.
Lying in bed, staring blankly at the faded ceiling, Lancer couldn't help but bitterly smile to himself.
Knowing too much really is troublesome… Am I just a hypocrite?
It wasn't like Lancer had never killed female Ghouls before. Setting aside earlier instances, just comparing their figures or looks—neither Ryouko nor Hinami, who hadn't even fully developed yet, came close to Kamishiro Rize. When facing Rize, he'd easily mustered determination to kill, gripping his spear firmly without hesitation. But confronted with a trembling child and a mother desperately shielding her daughter, he found himself utterly incapable of delivering a killing blow.
In those crimson Ghoul eyes, Lancer saw not cruelty or madness, but helplessness and fear.
On impulse, he'd taken them to a CCG medical facility, removing their Kakuhou and injecting them with RC suppressants. Yet, now that he thought about it clearly, this wasn't a solution at all—he couldn't provide them with the food they needed.
The "food" in Cochlea was sourced from executed criminals. But what about Lancer himself? He would never consider such methods. The mere act of not killing them personally was already his greatest hypocrisy. Was he supposed to feed them human corpses?
Humans and Ghouls could never coexist.
This was an undeniable truth, universally acknowledged. Predators and prey couldn't live together in harmony. Those rare cases of friendship or even romance between humans and Ghouls were just exceptions—exceptions that couldn't represent an entire species.
The only true solution was to eliminate Ghouls' need to feed on humans. But at least within the plot he knew, no such thing existed. And with just two months remaining before he returned from this world, there was nothing he could do.
This was exactly why Lancer considered himself a hypocrite.
He had spared their lives simply to satisfy his own conscience, yet in doing so, perhaps doomed them to suffer even worse pain in the end. After all…
Click.
Just as he lay lost in troubled thoughts, the sound of his door opening made him sit bolt upright, hand instinctively reaching for the Quinque hidden beside his pillow. But before he could react further, he froze in place completely.
Fueguchi Ryouko stood at the doorway, hair still dripping wet, wrapped only in a towel.
Her face burned red from embarrassment; clearly, she had never imagined herself standing before a stranger like this. She trembled visibly from fear, yet despite everything, she did not back away. Or perhaps, at the very moment she pushed open this door, she had resolved to do whatever it took to protect her daughter. As she saw Lancer staring at her blankly, sadness overwhelmed her heart. Her husband had only died yesterday, and yet here she was…
Seeing the tears welling at the corners of Ryouko's eyes, Lancer—previously frozen in shock—suddenly panicked.
Although he'd once jokingly boasted he could charm a girl with a pen and conquer a mature beauty in bed, in reality, he was just a small-time otaku who hadn't even watched AV, merely familiar with games from Alice Soft, Yuzu Soft, and ILLUSION. Facing an actual woman, barely covered by a towel, so pale and soft right before his eyes, nearly overloaded his brain completely.
Ryouko had turned her face away due to shyness and thoughts of her husband, but after waiting awkwardly without feeling any action, she cautiously turned back. Upon seeing Lancer's current state, she almost wanted to laugh.
The Investigator sat wide-eyed on the bed, mouth slightly agape, unsure where to look. One hand still gripped his Quinque, while the other waved aimlessly through the air as if lost…
If not for their current situation, she might have truly laughed out loud.
Despite looking mature, he's just like a child.
However, without further hesitation, she began stepping closer. Yet when she reached the bedside, Lancer abruptly stood and pressed his hand firmly against her shoulder.
But what happened next completely stunned her—Lancer didn't pull her closer, but instead gently pushed her back toward the door.
"Haa…Huff…"
Lancer took a deep breath, forcing himself to avert his gaze completely.
"Believe it or not, I didn't kill you both for purely personal reasons, so you don't need to do this. I hate most Ghouls because they've completely abandoned their humanity, and I don't want to become like those monsters."
As he said this, images of torn, dismembered human corpses flashed vividly in his mind. Some bodies even bore signs of extreme torture—sexual abuse included—inflicted before death.
Lancer didn't want to become a "monster." That was why he'd rejected becoming a half-Ghoul. But to him, "monster" didn't only refer to the physical—it also meant the heart. If he crossed this line tonight, he feared he'd lose himself completely.
"What's between us is just a deal. If you really feel indebted, you can just clean the apartment for me from now on."
With that, Lancer released his grip on her shoulder, walked past her into the living room, and gently lifted Hinami into his arms.
"You two take the bedroom tonight. I'm going to sleep; tomorrow I still need to report to the branch."
After carefully placing Hinami onto the bed, he picked up the white Quinque case from beside the bed and returned to the living room, lying down on the sofa.
Fueguchi Ryouko stood frozen in place, utterly confused. She glanced at her daughter peacefully sleeping on the bed, then back at Lancer's figure, his back turned to her on the sofa. Filled with complicated emotions, she finally closed the bedroom door softly.
Yet Lancer, lying on the sofa, opened his eyes again immediately after the door shut. He stared awkwardly down at the tent in his pants, a deeply complicated expression on his face.
No matter how righteous his words, or how fiercely his heart resisted, his body had responded honestly. Just recalling the scene of a freshly bathed young widow willingly offering herself to him sent an overwhelming heat surging through him.
"Forget it. Time to train…"
Opening the modified study room, he grabbed a wooden spear and immediately took up the stance for "Charged Strike." Now that other people were living here—especially Ghouls with heightened senses—he obviously couldn't rely on his own hand for relief. Thus, he could only burn off his excess energy through training.
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T/N: LMAOOOO good boy! shut up u stupid readers that are like OUGHH WHAT ARE U DOING YOU SHOULDVE DOVE IN, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO tsk be human stupid