In a smoke-filled corner, a petite girl wearing a Clown Mask clutched the severed crystalline arm and took a deep lungful of its scent. Yet no matter how hard she sniffed, she couldn't detect the smell from before.
"What's going on... Why doesn't it smell like anything anymore?" Roma frowned and tried biting it a couple more times, but couldn't even leave a tooth mark.
She fiddled with the severed end, but still couldn't smell anything edible.
The Clowns lurking in the shadows had also joined in this chaos.
Suddenly, as though sensing something, she whipped around and found a small figure behind her, wearing an Aogiri Tree cloak and covered in bandages knotted over her face.
The figure had appeared without a sound. Roma had almost failed to notice her.
"This smell... It seems a little familiar." Roma twitched her nose. When she caught that scent, she couldn't immediately tell whether the other person was human or ghoul.
For ghouls, identifying someone started with a sniff.
But this scent was different, markedly unlike even Eyepatch's.
The next second, Roma discovered that the crystalline arm in her embrace had vanished-along with her own arm. Agonizing pain shot from the stump.
With a scream, Roma Hantō immediately rolled around in pain, crying for help and begging for mercy. "I surrender, I surrender! Don't kill me!"
"It smells like meat that's been rotting for decades..." Eto held up the crystalline arm with her newly regrown, pale arm. With her bandaged hand, she tossed Roma's severed arm aside like a piece of trash.
"When we attacked the prison last time, Tatara mentioned that a scrawny, elderly female ghoul had been held in the same area as Mr. Shachi."
"Escaping from Mr. Tatara even in a weakened state... You're pretty impressive yourself." Eto watched