"It is an indictment."
Haruki's jaw tightened. Sota's voice remained calm.
"You inherited an organisation shaped by agreements with vampires. You use its resources to protect people. You limit exploitation. You punish those who prey upon the vulnerable."
"You have studied us."
"I respect you."
"I would prefer hatred."
"I know."
For the first time, Sota's smile carried sadness. It vanished quickly.
"You have made an unjust structure less cruel," he said. "That is admirable. It is also why the structure survives."
Haruki stared at him. Sota had prepared the argument for him specifically — not a general accusation, a blade fitted to the shape of Haruki's guilt.
"You think improvement is complicity," Haruki said.
"I think reform becomes complicity when its purpose shifts from changing a system to proving the system can be tolerated."
"And what do you offer instead?"
"Truth."
"Truth does not feed people."
"No. People feed people."
"It does not stop panic."
"No."
"It does not prevent governments, religious groups and corporations from exploiting what they discover."
"No."
Sota nodded after each answer. No evasion. No false certainty. Haruki almost preferred zealotry.
"You have no plan," he said.
"We have many."
"That means none."
"It means no single person should decide what follows revelation."
"You would release something you cannot control and call the chaos freedom."
Sota's gaze remained steady.
"Is control always preferable?"
"When lives depend on it."
"Whose lives?"