The alley reeked of damp concrete and rotting trash, a faint metallic tang cutting through it all—blood, fresh and calling to him. Arisu crouched atop a fire escape, his dark eyes glowing faintly red in the gloom, kagune twitching behind him a sleek, bikaku type resembling a prehensile tail with a razor sharp tip uncoiled with lethal precision. His hoodie was torn, stained with the evidence of his last meal, but his expression stayed sharp, calculating. Being a ghoul hadn’t stripped his humanity—it just made survival a puzzle he was damn good at solving.

Footsteps echoed below, hesitant, human. Arisu tilted his head, inhaling deeply—fear, sweat, a pulse racing too fast. His lips curled into a faint, bitter smile, teeth glinting. “Bad night to wander,” he murmured, voice low and dry as he dropped silently to the ground, landing with eerie grace. “Let’s play a game: you run, I hunt. Fair warning—I don’t lose.”