Ken looked inside.

The first thing he saw was a huge computer system holding various machines: monitors, computers, and a lot of CPUs.

A man in glasses was furiously typing away—apparently the tech specialist, Ken would guess.

Turning his attention, he saw an aqua-blue-haired woman training in a gym area, currently punching and kicking the sandbags rather hard.

There was also a corridor leading somewhere Ken didn’t know.

Click-Clack, Click-Clack, Click-Clack, Click-Clack, Click-Clack, sounded their footsteps.

Ken winced as he heard the rhythmic noise, accompanied by grunts and thuds.

“CAN YOU KNITWITS HAVE A LITTLE AWARENESS? IF I WERE AN ENEMY, YOU’D ALL BE DEAD,” exclaimed a voice.

Wincing, the woman turned around and replied, “Boss, can you tone it down a bit? It’s not even 7 a.m. yet.”

“I’LL SHOW YOU LOUD. EVERYONE TO THE BAR IN 2 MINUTES-”

The man beside Ken, who had de-squirified at this point, interrupted quietly but loudly enough for them to hear,

“Anyone who’s late is on infiltration duty.”

Out of surprise, the man Ken pegged for a stoic shouted, “Even me?”

Not letting his devious grin go, the boss replied, “Ashnah’s quirk exists, right?"

With that, the boss walked out, followed by Ken, as the other two hurried to stop what they were doing and get up there.

Ken reached the top of the stairs, went through the hallway, passed the break room, where he was able to drop off his empty can, and arrived in front.

Looking out the window, they seemed to still be in the area, judging by the rough-looking road and buildings he could see.

'But…'

Ken looked at the interior of the shop: wooden floors shining, leather seats prim and pristine.

If it weren’t for the sign celebrating their 5th anniversary, he would have thought this was a recently opened shop.

Still, like the leader, Ken sat in a booth, across from him but facing his body towards the bar.

Behind it, a beautiful woman in a waiter uniform was drying glasses.

She had a professional smile on her face as she waved to the awkward Ken, who gave a stiff one back.

The first to arrive was the computer man in a pitch-black suit, followed by the girl training, now cleaned up.

Sitting down on a stool, Ken got a good look at the man. He had black hair and blue eyes, a cold demeanor, and a professional appeal.

If it weren’t for the environment, Ken would have speculated he worked as some CEO or at the very least an assistant.

Then there was the girl who was training, and Ken, now that he got a good look at her, suspected that she was probably twins with the one behind the bar if her hair, stature, and face were any indication.

They both had light blue hair and golden eyes, though one wearing a waiter uniform and the other dressed like they were going to a late-night bar made them distinguishable.

Their demeanor was also different; one had a kind, amicable smile you’d expect from store employees, while the other had an excited smile reminiscent of a dog.

The sisters were behind the bar chatting, and the last person sauntered in. A messy-haired woman dressed in a plain purple top had only underwear on her bottom.

She had a lazy look and walked—or rather, stumbled around as if she’d just woken up.

Which was confirmed right after,

“Reiki! Even if you just woke up, have some decorum and dress yourself properly.”

Then the computer man threw a beige skirt and a doctor's lab coat at her.

The woman, though too tired to even give a real response, grunted, threw the coat on, and wrapped the skirt around her waist; thus, she became "covered," though her disheveled appearance may trigger certain people's desires if they preferred such a thing.

She sat on a stool closer to the door and laid her head in her arms, facing the leader.

“Now that everyone’s here, let's introduce our newest member.”

Standing up nervously, Ken said, “I’m Ken Kaneki; nice to meet you.”

Ignoring him, the messy woman asked, “Boss, why did you hire some 10-year-old kid?”

"12, soon to be 13, to be exact, but yes… why exactly is he here?”

Ken was shocked. He hadn't even been here for a few hours, and they already knew his age. ‘What more do they know?’

“Facial recognition software,” the computer man said, finding amusement in Ken's shocked expression.

“His skills, besides, we never judge based on age but ability,” the boss said, giving a pensive look at the girl.

“Now, introduce yourselves, your abilities, and things about you so he can get to know everyone here.”

Standing up, the computer man said, “Seneca, I’m good with computers and deal with the technical and financial aspects of things around here. My abilities also lie in the field of technology, particularly viruses.”

“Alright, my turn,” said the sister, whom Ken found training in the gym.

"I'm Ashnah; I deal with spying, getting information, and handling missions a lot. I can sneak into places without a trace.”

“I’ll go next,” the kinder sister of the two said.

“I’m the sister of Ashnah, Naia. I can also get information, but I deal with the extraction process from people and often work with my sister on missions. I work in the bar as the face of this place.”

Everyone's eyes then fell on the red-haired figure in the doctor's coat, who had fallen asleep at some point.

Being poked by Ashnah, she groggily woke up.

“Oh, it's my turn. I’m Reiki, the team's medical specialist. I contain prisoners we bring in, examine everyone's physical state, deal with things by helping by keeping everyone in top shape…”

She then whispered, perhaps thinking that everybody would move on quickly enough to not catch her next words.

"also a professional booze tester, though Sake’s also up my alley for a fee.”

“Ahem! Alright, it's back to me. Ken, I’m the leader around here, Ehno. I previously worked in the military, have a lot of combat training, and work as the figurehead of our group in the outside world. You can just call me Boss.”

Figuring he’d also need to talk, Ken cleared his throat.

“I’m Kaneki. My quirk allows me to create tendrils from my back, which I can control, making me proficient in combat. I’m well-versed in dealing with people and consider myself somewhat level-headed.”

Seneca spoke up immediately after. “I didn’t get such an impression when watching you fight the boss, and now, such a drastic change isn’t normal. Do you by chance have a split personality?”

Nodding, Ken replied, “Something along those lines. Though it should be a little more intricate than that, I suspect there’s some other version of 'me' that can take over at times. I should be able to do the things ‘he’ can with enough training.”

At least, that's what Ken figured out when using Tokyo Ghoul and Rize as references.

Although he was puzzled as to how this other him came to be, he hadn’t been tortured or forced to count backward for hours.

Maybe his mother was a ghoul and baby him had her organs transplanted into him, but then size came into question.

There was also the possibility that he did have a quirk that was just eerily similar to a ghoul's ability, and that quirk was sentient.

Humming to himself, the leader seemed to be in a pleasant mood after hearing that information.

“Excellent. That other you is far too brash, like a wild animal who doesn't think. If you can use the same abilities, then all I need to do is train you to have his ferocity while keeping your current cautiousness.”

Ken nodded, trying to distract himself from worrying about what the sh*t-eating grin the boss had on his face meant.

“Well, that settles introductions. Ken, I’m assuming you're going to be staying here regularly.”

‘I don’t plan on staying “there” unless needed.’ Ken nodded while thinking so.

“Alright, Naia, continue closing down the shop. Seneca, calculates the cost of his living here and other things, then assign shifts for him to compensate but make them at night. Ashnah, you're with me.”

Then, turning to Ken, he continued, “Ken, you can sleep in the lounge area for now until we clear out one of our spare rooms. Ask Naia for any other things like blankets, pillows, etc. You're also free to have the coffee beans in the back; nobody comes here for the coffee.”

With that, the boss grabbed his blazer, and with Ashnah, his, just when they reached the door, the boss turned around.

“Oh right, Ken, did you get your information from Giran?”

Though he said it as a question, it seemed more like a statement. That jogged Ken's memory, though.

‘Right, that guy said I was the only person he told, so how did these guys get information on where she was?’

Ken's thoughts and questions remained unanswered.

He didn’t think he was close enough to ask for the source of their information, and he couldn’t confirm if Giran was lying.

So Ken merely nodded to the duo, who turned around after getting an answer.

Their backs then quickly disappeared into the darkness of the night.

As they became indescribable figures in Ken's eyes, everyone scattered to complete their duties.

Ken walked to the break room to grab some substitute “food” and take in the fact that he'd been recruited to this “group."

But as he’s about to enter the room, Naia unexpectedly speaks.

“Oh, right, I forgot. Welcome to our home, Kihi (忌避). Please enjoy your stay!”

He turned around to see a smile on her face before she delved back into her task of wiping the counters.

.

.

.

“Why did you sell it to the boy?”

A conversation was being had in an all-too-familiar room. If Ken were here, he’d recognize that stupid grin and extravagant atmosphere anywhere.

“What boy? I seem to have forgotten; you may need to jog my memory.”

“We're not here to play, Giran.”

The words were spat out so ferociously that passersby would think Giran was Ehno’s nemesis.

“Oh~ You're talking about that white-haired one. Yes, I remember him coming in a little while ago.”

“Why?”

“He’s a customer.”

“Cut the crap; a boy of that stature has no money to give-”

A hand was placed on Ashnah’s body, her black mask covering her entire face while being shaped like an ancient oni, giving nothing of her identity away.

“-I’ll ask one more time. Why did the stingy Giran, who never makes a deal without an equal return, sell information to a penniless boy?"

“Fine– Fine, I’m just pulling your leg. Think of him as if he were an investment.”

Ehno raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he lay on the fine leather couch.

Giran sat forward, interlocking his hands on the porcelain wood and resting his chin atop it.

“To mold him, you probably saw the look in his eyes; one slight push and he’d be falling over the edge. Couple that with his request, and it wouldn’t be too hard. Make him kill a few people, slip in an innocent, then he cracks and becomes a pure killing machine.”

Ehno analyzed the disturbing contents.

It revealed that Giran didn’t know much about Ken, not about his disorder nor his quirk, so although there was something more to his words, Ehno fulfilled his goal of probing the man.

Standing up with his partner at his side, he turned to the door, leaving behind one sentence.

“He’s ours, so you can forget about playing with him.”

As they left, he could hear Giran mumble, “With you, the crazy band of devils? Things are going to get serious around here.”

The door shut behind them, and they walked the long hallway alone. Once outside and sure they were alone, Ehno spoke.

“Thanks for the support.”

“It’s fine, Boss; that was the personality that most suited the situation.”

A light chuckle flew out of Ehno’s mouth.

“Good cop Bad cop, huh?"

As they disappeared from the window, Giran picked up the phone.

He debated sending someone to tail them, as it had become standard for all his customers who personally met him, but decided against it since even he didn’t have infinite resources.

He dialed the numbers as he remembered his meeting with the boy.

He was so focused on reading the contract that he subconsciously ignored small movements, like the shuffling of a leg or the fast twitch of a hand.

Using that opportunity, Giran used his quirk to muddle while the boy was in a stupor, too late to react before one hand touched his being.

Its effect wasn’t anything significant—just some minor amnesia for a few minutes—but it was enough.

Normally, Giran would refrain from using it on his clients, lest they have an unusual immune system and become unaffected by it, but that boy was too useful.

The gain he could get if and when it succeeded outweighed the detriments, and it worked.

The boy's height, weight, and other health factors had been recorded by the silver-haired man.

And now he was about to reap the results of his risky endeavor. The phone started ringing as he called a special person.

RING

RING

RING

RING

CTCH

The call was picked up, yet nothing could be heard besides an incessant humming.

Not being puzzled by that, Giran spoke first.

“I’ve found someone you may be interested in.”

Although he couldn’t see it, Giran felt like an invisible grin had risen from behind the screen.

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