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Shou Maruzai was in charge of the operation's command, but right at the start, the action encountered a setback. The Aogiri Tree's resistance was much tougher than he had anticipated; the organization had hired professional human mercenaries as a vanguard, creating a messy, high-friction obstacle for the CCG's tactical units.
Maruzai's angry roars echoed continuously over the radio. Kael, unable to endure the auditory assault, pulled off his headset and rubbed his ears. "That old guy really has a high-decibel output," he muttered.
"Indeed," Mado Akira agreed, stepping forward to tighten Kael's tactical vest. The proximity allowed Kael to catch the scent of her hair—a sharp contrast to the smell of gunpowder and asphalt.
"Akira, what brand of shampoo do you use?"
"Is now the time for a lifestyle survey?" Akira rolled her eyes, but her hands didn't stop. To her, this gear was the only thing standing between a successful mission and a body bag.
"It smells good. I'm using it next time," Kael hinted.
"...Talk about it after we're off the clock," she replied. She understood the implication: to use her shampoo, he'd have to be at her place. In the shadow of a high-risk operation, the invitation felt like a tether to the future.
"Mind if I join the conversation?" Mado Kureo leaned in, his uneven eyes squinting at the intimate scene.
"Actually, I do mind, Senior Mado," Akira rebuffed him instantly.
The radio crackled with new orders. The front lines had finally broken the mercenaries. Maruzai ordered the decapitation teams to move in. Their goal: destroy the base and eliminate the executives.
As they breached the facility, Kael snagged a red-cloaked Ghoul and pinned him against a concrete pillar. "Excuse me, where is Jason?"
The Ghoul's eyes were wide with terror as he watched Mado Kureo and Amon clearing the hallway behind them. "I... I don't..."
"Don't be nervous," Kael cooed, his voice a masterpiece of "Calculated Empathy." "Confess, and I guarantee you'll survive. You'll get a permanent room in Cochlea—treatment usually reserved for S-Ranks. Think of the prestige."
The Ghoul's mental firewall collapsed. He pointed down the eastern corridor. Kael thanked him by gently—but firmly—slamming his head against the wall, knocking him into a peaceful unconsciousness for the cleanup crews.
"You're too merciful, Kael," Mado Kureo lectured.
"Senior Mado is right," Kael replied perfunctorily, his eyes already tracking the thermal signatures ahead.
"How did Investigators find this sub-level?" "Let's just delete them and move on."
Two voices echoed from the darkness. The Bin Brothers, S-Rank executives, stepped into the light.
"Split up," Mado Kureo decided, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of new Quinque material. "Amon and I will take these two."
"Can you handle the torque, Senior?" Kael teased.
"Watch your tone, First Class," Kureo grunted. "Amon, make sure the 'elderly' doesn't have to carry the whole load."
Kael took Akira down a side passage, leaving the Bin Brothers to the obsessive Mado and the heavy-hitting Amon. As they rounded the next corner, they ran straight into a tall man in a sharp white suit and a hockey mask.
Yakumo Oomori. Jason.
"Jason!" Akira gripped her Quinque, her body tensing as she recognized the S-Rank predator.
CRACK.
Jason cracked his knuckles—a sound that usually signaled the start of a nightmare. He looked at Akira, a sadistic grin spreading beneath his mask. "I was worried I'd be bored. Thanks for the entertainment."
Nico, the alluring male companion at his side, gently stroked Jason's back. "Don't waste too much time, dear."
"Shut up! I've been holding it in!" Jason roared, then immediately softened. "Sorry, Nico."
The two shared an affectionate, twisted moment. Kael let out a loud, dramatic dry heave. "Sorry. I'm actually feeling a bit nauseous. If you're going to be that disgusting, do it in private."
"I'll educate you first," Jason growled, pulling out his beloved pliers.
"Wait, wait," Kael raised a hand. "I have a math question for you, Jason. What is one thousand minus seven?"
The air in the room froze. Jason's expression twisted into a mass of scars and wrinkles. He lunged with the pliers, but in a flicker of steel, his right arm hit the floor with a dull thud.
"AAAAAGH!"
Kael's slash was so fast that the pain only hit Jason's brain seconds later. Enraged, the Ghoul sprouted his Rinkaku—multiple tentacles lunging like spears. Kael side-stepped with "Cyber-like" precision, his blade severing the Kagune as if they were silk ribbons.
Jason retreated, his regeneration frantically trying to seal the shoulder stump. He roared, his body beginning to swell as he entered his Half-Kakuja state, armor plating his upper body.
"Brat! I'm going to crush you!"
He charged, swinging a massive Kagune-formed arm. Kael didn't flinch. He delivered a vertical slash that cleaved the armored arm, followed by two swift strikes that severed Jason's legs. The 1.9-meter monster collapsed into a stump.
Kael grabbed Jason by the hair, pulling his face close. "Focus. Answer the question. What is one thousand minus seven?"
"Nine... nine hundred... and ninety-three..." Jason murmured, his mind completely broken, regressing to the trauma of his own torture.
"He's junk now," Kael noted, tossing the broken Jason toward a stunned Nico.
"Jason? What happened to him?!" Kirishima Ayato appeared in the window, his eyes wide as he saw the "Human Stump" on the floor. Beside him stood Tatara, the high-ranking executive of Aogiri.
"Time is almost up," Tatara said, looking at Kael with icy indifference.
"The signal is jammed," Akira reported, checking her comms. "We're cut off."
"It's a trap," Kael realized. He turned to Akira. "Go. Find the others. Tell them to evacuate. Now."
"But—"
"That's an order, Second Class Mado," Kael's tone was absolute. Akira bit her lip, looked at him one last time, and bolted.
Ayato lunged to stop her, but Kael threw his Quinque like a javelin, pinning the "Black Rabbit" to the wall by his cloak.
"Throwing away your weapon?" Tatara asked coldly. "A fatal error."
Kael cracked his knuckles and settled into a standard boxing stance. "Who says I need a weapon to dismantle you?"
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