The almost vampiric need for human sustenance was unknown by Genji until now. Gabriel hadn't explicitly said as much, but there was plenty of room to read between the lines. Filing away this new information, he resolved to somehow witness a 'feeding session' before deciding what course of action to take. If he took action. Honestly, it all depended on the moral character of whomever the other man happened to target. Nothing of value would be lost were he to feast on another killer or cutpurse.
Placing a hand on his chest as if deeply wounded, he sarcastically retorted, "As my heart is one of the few organs I have left that is fully operational, I will choose not to take your assessment as an insult." Genji didn't necessarily consider it heroic to care for others on occasion; he only considered it a part of being human. That was something he wouldn't let go of readily.
As for the tournament, he shrugged. "It does not look to be so bad as giving the combatants wooden swords with which to fight, but it is hardly up to our standards." Or rather, the standards of the now defunct Overwatch. Made up of 'soldiers, scientists, adventurers, and oddities,' their training sessions didn't call for wearing kid gloves. It was best to go hard, to know what team compositions worked and what didn't before heading into battle together. Not until his last sparring session with Lena did anyone even know she possessed the ability to skip ahead and rewind time.
"We could spice things up by entering, ourselves, but we'd best be prepared to flee the torch and pitchfork wielding mob." Because by the standards of many, Gabriel's new form wasn't the only monstrosity within eyesight.