Not long after they left, several military transport vehicles and black CCG sedans roared in, stopping abruptly at the perimeter of the Washuu estate, now reduced to ruins.
A group of fully armed combat personnel and over a dozen elite investigators carrying quinques jumped out of the vehicles.
The team immediately formed tactical formations and began a dragnet search of the site.
In the end, all of them converged around the most conspicuous feature: the enormous crater.
At the center of the pit lay large amounts of melted, twisted, charred kagune fragments, warped by extreme heat and emitting a pungent odor.
"Deploy quinques. Approach carefully," the lead First-Class Investigator ordered in a low voice.
All investigators activated their quinques simultaneously. Blades and shields gleamed coldly in the night.
They advanced slowly toward the center of the crater as if facing a formidable enemy.
Although their orders were to "retrieve the bodies," no one dared lower their guard against beings like Carnage and the One-Eyed Owl. What if they were not dead?
"Re. Report." One investigator who reached the central area first spoke with a trembling voice.
He let out a breath of relief, only for his heart to leap back into his throat. "Th. There's nothing. No remains of any bodies found."
No bodies meant the targets might still be alive.
That conclusion sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"All units on high alert. The targets are likely still alive," the leader barked immediately.
Everyone tensed and scanned the dark, shattered ruins in fear,
afraid that the next second those grotesque kagune would shoot out from the shadows and tear them apart.
After remaining on high alert for several minutes and confirming there was no movement,
the leader took a deep breath and connected to headquarters via encrypted communication.
"Reporting to headquarters. Site search completed. No retrievable mission targets found. Repeat. No bodies located."
....
In the underground conference room, the message from the communicator was clearly audible.
The calm on Washuu Tsuneyoshi's face shattered instantly. His aged hand clenched tightly,
veins bulging before he slammed it violently onto the hard redwood conference table with a loud bang.
"What? Clarify. What exactly happened?" he roared into the communicator, his voice filled with disbelief and fury.
Standing beside him, Washuu Masatate immediately issued orders into the device, his tone equally cold and urgent.
"All units, immediately conduct a comprehensive search of the surrounding area. Leave no corner unchecked. We want to see them alive or see their corpses."
"Yes. Understood."
With the command issued, the search teams on the scorched earth moved again, but an invisible fear had already settled in every heart.
Many of the on-site personnel felt a sense of despair. It seemed they would not be going home tonight. That was the shared thought of nearly everyone present.
....
Rize and Eto supported Amano Hiro as they quickly retreated into the dense forest near the Washuu estate.
Finding a concealed thicket, they carefully helped him sit against an ancient tree, planning to wait until his condition stabilized further before heading back.
Rize crouched beside him, her amethyst-like eyes fixed unblinkingly on his closed face as he recovered, worry etched deeply between her brows.
Eto leapt silently into the treetops like a wildcat, her sharp gaze piercing through gaps in the leaves as she looked toward the scorched family compound in the distance.
When she saw several transport vehicles with flashing lights and numerous figures moving about,
she let out a low sneer. "As expected, the cleanup crew is here. They moved fast."
Time passed slowly in silence. The RC cells within Amano Hiro, far beyond common sense and enhanced by Carnage, were working frantically at unprecedented efficiency.
Damaged tissue was repaired, and even his severed limb began regenerating at a visible pace.
In just over ten minutes, injuries that would have killed any ghoul ten times over had mostly recovered. At the very least, movement was no longer a major issue.
He slowly opened his eyes, a lingering sharpness flashing within them.
"For the Washuu Clan to dominate for so long, they're certainly not fools."
His voice was still hoarse, but analytical and cold. "Tonight's empty-city tactic followed by missile bombardment trap was ruthless. They almost left us there for good."
He flexed his newly regenerated arm, sensing the slight weakness in his body and gaining a new understanding of his own strength.
Powerful confidence surged again. At least after this battle, he now understood his own limits.
As long as he did not deliberately provoke organized military forces and avoided that kind of dense saturation bombing, Tokyo could still be traversed sideways.
He stood up and brushed dust and scorch marks from his body, his movements regaining their usual sharpness.
"Let's go back first. Sooner or later, we'll settle this account with the Washuu Clan."
At the same time Amano Hiro and the others quietly withdrew, the carpet search of the estate ruins concluded.
"Report. All areas have been cleared. No signs of life detected."
This news made every search member secretly breathe a sigh of relief. Their taut nerves finally loosened.
At least they would not have to face those three monsters who could withstand missiles.
The leader did not dare delay and immediately connected to headquarters on the encrypted channel.
"Reporting to headquarters. Site search completed. Confirmed no signs of life. Repeat. Targets not located."
However, the other end of the communicator fell into an eerie silence. There was no response, not even the usual static.
A trace of doubt rose in the leader's heart. Just as he was about to report again, suspecting a communication malfunction,
that familiar voice finally came through, delivering only two cold and curt words.
"Withdraw."
"Understood." The leader responded immediately, then turned and ordered all personnel. "All units assemble. Withdraw. Return to headquarters."
With the command issued, everyone regrouped quickly and retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind only the quietly burning family ruins.
....
In the underground conference room, the air was so heavy it was suffocating.
All the Washuu Clan executives sat silently in their seats, occasionally glancing at Washuu Tsuneyoshi at the head.
There was no expression on the face of the family head. No rage.
No dejection. He simply sat there quietly, eyes empty as if his soul had left his body.
Yet beneath that calm exterior, he was exploding with fury.
If he were not a ghoul with formidable vitality, he might have already died from the extreme anger, his blood vessels bursting.
To set this killing trap, he had expended immense effort, called in countless favors, paid enormous costs,
and even blown the ancestral home that had stood for over a hundred years into the ground.
And what was the result?
Carnage, that grave threat, was still alive.
Right under his nose, he had endured saturation bombardment from thirty missiles and then escaped.
Such massive investment and painful losses had yielded nothing.
The intense frustration and humiliation gripped his heart like red-hot iron tongs.
Overwhelming rage battered his reason, leaving his mind blank and unable to form any effective response.