[Flashback: Three Hours Ago]
[SCANNING NEW WORLD...]
[World: UNKNOWN]
[Threat Level: CALCULATING...]
[World Progress: 0/100%]
The Book flickered.
[THE BOOK]
[Previous World: Demon Slayer — Kimetsu no Yaiba]
[Status: COMPLETE ✓ — 100/100%]
[All skills retained.]
[COMPANION ENTRIES — UNLOCKED]
[Shinobu Asakura]
[Mitsuri Asakura]
[INVENTORY]
[Standard Nichirin Katana(KIRA)], [Beretta M9], [Lock-picking tools], [The Book: (Classified Artifact)]
He opened his eyes.
He was standing in an alley. Above him, the gap between the skyscrapers framed a rectangle of night sky smudged orange by light pollution, no stars visible.
Beside him
"WHAT IS THAT."
"A vending machine," Manjiro said, not looking away from the street.
Mitsuri was pointing at a vending machine.
"It has… there are things inside it…"
"Drinks. Yes."
"Best not to touch it," Shinobu said lightly, stepping out from the shadows. She glanced around the strange towering city. "The writing system is modern Japanese... but the dialect and slang on these posters are highly evolved. Fascinating."
Mitsuri was still staring at the vending machine.
"Shinobu-chan," she said carefully. "Can I have one hundred yen."
"No."
"I don't even know what one hundred yen is, but I want to put it in the glowing box."
Mitsuri looked at the vending machine. At Manjiro. At the vending machine.
"So, I can't"
"Not yet," Manjiro sighed
"Neither of us has any money of this era," Shinobu pointed out.
"But eventually…" Mitsuri pleaded, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.
"Eventually, yes." Manjiro promised.
Beside him, Mitsuri finally looked past the alley, taking in the city spread out ahead. The blinding neon signs, the exotic cars passing by, the impossibly tall buildings made of glass and steel. To a girl from the Taisho era, it looked marvelous.
"Manjiro-kun," she said.
"What."
"I think I'm going to like it here."
He looked at her, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "If you're impressed by this, wait till you see more. But first things first."
They needed a place to stay, identities. A reason to exist without attracting attention.
[Flashback End]
---
[Current]
"Mesdames et Messieurs!"
The spotlight shifts down from the darkness, illuminating the high balcony. Tsukiyama Shuu stood there, arms spread wide, basking in the hungry applause of the masked elite. He wore a maroon suit, a single white rose pinned to his lapel, his crescent-moon mask doing nothing to hide his grin.
"Welcome to tonight's main course!" Tsukiyama's voice echoed through the underground coliseum. "Tonight, we have a true delicacy. A feast of despair!"
Down in the pit, the arena floor was bloodstained. In the center sat an iron birdcage.
Inside the cage, Manjiro sat on a velvet chair.
Behind him cowered two other humans, the ones he had seen unconscious in the back of the van. The woman was curled against the bars, weeping. The man...
"First time?" Manjiro asked pleasantly.
The man looked up. "...Sorry?"
"Being kidnapped." He gestured around. "First time?"
"Yes..." He caught himself. "Why... yes, obviously it's my first time..."
"Mine too, actually." Manjiro tilted his head thoughtfully. "Though I've been in worse situations. Once I tied weights to my ankles and jumped off a bridge. That was more uncomfortable than this."
'What,' the man thought.
The woman had stopped crying. She was staring at the back of Manjiro's head, tears still wet on her face, her panic easing for a moment.
"...Why," the man said carefully, "did you do that."
"Because I'm more at ease when I'm near death's door." Manjiro shrugged. "Anyway. What are your names?"
'This man is going to get us killed. We are going to die next to this lunatic. That is somehow worse than just dying.' The man thought.
"Kenji," he said anyway, automatically. Then caught himself. Why am I introducing myself.
"Wondering why the small talk?"
"I find small talk very calming." Manjiro turned back to face the arena, propping his chin on his hand. "You should try it. Better than crying, probably. No offense," he added to the woman.
She blinked. "...None taken?"
"Good." He smiled at her.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. "...Yui."
"I'm Manjiro. And for what it's worth, I don't plan on letting either of you die tonight."
Kenji stared at him.
"You say that like it's up to you," Kenji said.
Manjiro looked at the iron gate across the arena. Beyond it, something very large was moving.
"It is," he said nonchalantly.
Around the upper rings, the masked guests leaned over the railings, murmuring to each other over glasses of dark red wine. In the shadows of their masks, their eyes glowed an unnatural red.
"Ah. I see," Manjiro muttered to himself, resting his chin on his hand. "So it's one of those diddy parties..."
"Ain't no party like a Diddy party…"
"…which means I should probably leave before the main event."
Up on the balcony, Tsukiyama thrust a hand toward the heavy steel gates at the far end of the arena.
"Now... let us tenderize the meat!Ouvrez la porte!"
"Open the gate!"
The Kakugan. Black sclera, irises glowing red. From his knowledge this confirmed the world he ended up in.
<
In his transparent world, he can see the conscious release of Red Child (RC) cells, a trigger brought on by hunger and the anticipation of a kill.
The two humans behind him registered a meager 250–300 RC factor. Baseline livestock, as far as the room was concerned. The masked guests above carried RC factors exceeding 8,000.
Manjiro himself carried a baseline 999 RC factor
The iron door of the cage creaked open.
From the tunnel's shadow, something large emerged. Bloodstained apron. Burlap sack for a face. Dragging a saw.
Whirrr.
The Butcher revved the saw as the masked guests cheered in anticipation
"Wait, wait," Manjiro said, standing up slowly from his velvet chair
Tsukiyama paused, leaning slightly over the railing, intrigued.
"I've spent my life searching for a refined way to exit the stage, but I must say... this is dreadfully uninspired. A brainless butcher with a toy like that? I expected someone with your 'fashionable' tastes to understand that less is always more" Manjiro asked, looking from the Butcher to the masked crowd above
The guests all stared down at the pit looking at Manjiro.
A woman in a silver mask leaned slightly toward the man beside her. "Did he just..."
"Yes."
"Hm." She picked up her wine glass and said nothing further.
Further along the ring, two men who had been in the middle of a quiet conversation stopped. One of them slowly tilted his head at the pit.
"Bold," he said finally.
"Stupid," the other replied.
An older ghoul near the back who was watching with detached interest suddenly stood up and leaned, "First time I've seen one stand up," he said to no one in particular.
Nobody responded. They were all watching now.
The massive Butcher tilted his head slowly, as if his brain was trying to understand. "…Wait… are you… mocking… me?""
Then, the Butcher SCREAMED, deeply offended. "MEAT DOESN'T TALK!"
The Ghoul charged at him.
Up on the balcony, Tsukiyama set his wine glass down. He watched the boy closely, sniffing the air. There was no scent of fear. None at all.
'What a spicy little dish', Tsukiyama thought.
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[A/N]
Do you guys still remember the basics of Tokyo Ghoul (RC cells, kakugan, clans, etc.), or should I briefly re-explain things as the story goes?
If most people remember it, I'll skip the detailed explanations and keep the pacing fast. If not… I'll give quick refreshers so nobody feels lost.