[Flight Number: JLXXX Tokyo Haneda - Canada (with layover), one-way ticket. Passenger Name: Kiyotsugu Toyokawa. Departure Time: 02:00 AM tomorrow.]
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[I can give him some money and send him abroad. As long as he doesn't come back, there won't be any problems.]
[I can also do nothing at all.]
[Your choice.]
Sakiko stared at the image on her screen. Rainwater fell on it, blurring the light.
Canada?
No extradition treaty. A paradise for fugitives.
If her father got on that plane, he might never be able to return, but he'd survive. The debts, the collectors, everything would become a distant past.
This was the only way out.
Had Seiji Fujiwara calculated this far ahead?
He'd predicted every scenario, sealed off every escape route, leaving only this single plank bridge leading to his palm.
Sakiko smiled bitterly.
She lifted her head. In the distance, barely visible through the curtain of rain, loomed a skyscraper.
The Genesis Group headquarters. Where Seiji Fujiwara was.
She thought of how "righteously" she'd refused him in the study earlier. Looking back now, how naive.
In this world of eat or be eaten, dignity without power was nothing but a paper window waiting to be poked through.
And now, that paper had torn.
Wind and rain were pouring in.
To avoid being killed by Yuichi Toyokawa, to protect her father, the man who was useless but had still raised her—
She had no choice but to... sell herself.
Sakiko slowly tightened her grip on the phone, drew a deep breath, letting the icy rain flood into her lungs, bringing a sharp sting.
She turned and expressionlessly hailed a taxi.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
Sakiko gazed at the blurred scenery outside the window. Her voice was so faint it could be scattered by a breeze. "Minato Ward. Genesis Mansion."
In the end, I have to go back there.
Back to Seiji Fujiwara's hands.
...
The rain grew heavier, as if trying to drown all of Tokyo.
The taxi sped along the asphalt roads of Minato, tires hissing through puddles. Windshield wipers swept frantically but couldn't completely clear the blurred neon lights on the glass.
Sakiko sat in the back, her body swaying with the car's movements.
She wasn't watching the scenery outside. Her eyes were fixed on her phone screen.
Shortly after getting in, that massive outdoor LED news screen had broadcast an emergency bulletin.
An obituary for Tokyo's elite circles.
Though it lasted only a few seconds, though there was no funeral music, those words in white on black drove into her retinas like nails.
[Former head of the Toyokawa Consortium, Sadaharu Toyokawa, passed away at 4:35 PM today due to illness. He was 78.]
4:35 PM.
At that moment, she'd been in a taxi, anxiously rushing to her father's rental.
At that moment, she'd been telling herself over and over: "As long as I see Grandfather, everything will be fine." "Grandfather is the last shield."
How ironic.
It turned out that by then, she was already an orphan with no one to rely on.
"Ma'am, we're at Genesis Mansion."
The driver's voice shattered the silence in the car.
Sakiko snapped back, mechanically turning her head.
Outside the window was a brilliantly lit estate. Massive iron gates stood imposing and cold in the rain, the crest Seiji had designed himself, a stylized gentian flower, gleaming with metallic cold light under the spotlights.
This was one of the most heavily guarded places in all Tokyo. The center of power.
And also the cage she was about to enter.
"Thank you."
Sakiko paid, her voice so calm she didn't sound like a girl who'd just lost family and was drowning in debt.
She pushed open the door and walked into the storm.
She didn't have an umbrella.
The icy rain instantly soaked her through. Her thin house clothes clung to her body, outlining her slender figure. But she seemed not to feel the cold, just walking step by step to the intercom by the gate.
She didn't need to ring.
Because the moment she approached, the gates slowly slid open.
Sakiko didn't hesitate. She stepped inside.
From the gate to the main residence's entryway was a long path paved with cobblestones. Landscape lights on either side turned the rain deathly white.
She walked slowly, each step like treading on knife points.
In her mind, the image of her father's bloody face as he knelt begging for mercy alternated with that obituary headline.
16.8 billion.
That astronomical figure pressed down on her like a mountain, making it hard to breathe.
Now, she had nothing. Nothing except this body, this shell still bearing the Toyokawa name, once adored by countless people.
This was her only bargaining chip.
...
The main entrance wasn't closed.
Warm orange light spilled out, casting a long shadow across the floor.
Sakiko stood at the doorway but didn't immediately enter. She looked down at herself.
Soaking wet, hair plastered messily to her face, shoes caked with mud.
As pathetic as a stray dog.
The old Sakiko would never have allowed herself to appear before anyone looking like this.
But that Sakiko was dead now.
She'd died at 4:35.
What remained was just merchandise waiting to be sold. Merchandise didn't need dignity, just utility.
She took off her shoes and stepped barefoot onto the expensive hardwood floor. The instant her cold soles touched the warm heated flooring, the drastic temperature difference made her shiver uncontrollably.
The living room was quiet.
Not as many people as she'd imagined. No maids, no bodyguards.
Only Seiji Fujiwara.
He wore a dark gray turtleneck sweater, seated in a single armchair, holding a paper book, reading. On the low table beside him sat a cup of still-steaming tea.
The scene was peaceful and beautiful. The storm outside and the tranquility here seemed to belong to different worlds.
Hearing footsteps, Seiji didn't look up.
He turned another page, his fingers producing a soft rustle against the paper.
"Close the door."
His voice was casual.
Sakiko turned and closed the heavy oak door.
Click.
The sound of the lock.
That soft click seemed to sever her connection to the outside world.
Sakiko turned and walked step by step to the center of the living room, stopping about three meters from Seiji.
Rainwater dripped from her hair and clothes, pooling into a small puddle on the floor.
Seiji continued reading. He didn't seem to mind the expensive floor getting dirty, nor did he speak.
Silence was a form of pressure.
He was waiting.
Waiting for Sakiko to speak first.
"..."
Sakiko studied the man before her.
His profile was cold and perfect, his expression focused and serene. Anyone unfamiliar might take him for a refined scholar or an elegant aristocrat.
But only Sakiko knew what cold, cruel soul lay beneath that elegant exterior.
Seiji had anticipated all of this.
From that piece of intelligence to that plane ticket to this waiting.
Step by step, he'd driven her to the cliff's edge, then smiled as he watched her jump.
"Send my father away."
After a long while, Sakiko finally spoke.
From long silence and the chill of the rain, her voice was so hoarse it sounded like coarse sandpaper scraping.
"The farther the better." She added, "Canada isn't far enough. Send him somewhere even more remote, a country no one knows, where he can spend the rest of his life in obscurity."
Seiji's fingers paused on the page.
He finally looked up, closed the book, and set it gently on his knee.
Those deep black eyes regarded Sakiko calmly.
"You know what this means."
Not "yes," not "no."
Just stating a fact.
"Once he's on that plane, he'll no longer be Kiyotsugu Toyokawa. And to prevent being traced, he can never contact you again for the rest of his life."
"I know."
Sakiko's expression didn't change. "That's what he deserves. At least he'll be alive."
Being alive, for the current Toyokawa family, was already the greatest luxury.
"Very good."
Seiji nodded, seeming to appreciate her rationality.
Then he said nothing more, just watched her quietly.
Sakiko knew what he was waiting for.
A transaction required payment.
Seiji was waiting for her to pay the "price."
The air in the living room seemed to freeze. Only the occasional crackle from the fireplace broke the silence.
Sakiko closed her eyes and drew a breath.
When she opened them again, there was no emotion left in her gaze. No humiliation, no anger, not even sadness.
Only calm.
Since she'd decided to sell herself, she might as well do it thoroughly. Any coyness or hesitation before this man would only invite more humiliation.
She raised her hand. Her fingers touched the soaked collar.
The first button.
A cold metal clasp, slippery from the rain. Sakiko's stiff fingers struggled, but she finally got it undone.
Then the second.
The third.
The wet coat fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Beneath was a white blouse, now semi-transparent, clinging to her skin, outlining the young, beautiful curves of a girl.
Sakiko didn't stop.
Like a soulless puppet executing its master's commands.
The blouse fell.
The skirt fell.
Finally, what little remained.
Minutes later.
Sakiko stood naked in the living room light.
Her skin was very pale, but under the dual effects of cold and shame, it had taken on an unhealthy bluish-white hue. Her body trembled involuntarily, a physiological response, a human instinct when lacking security.
But her head remained raised. She didn't cover any part of herself.
She simply stood there, letting Seiji's gaze roam over her body, examining every area.
"I am yours."
Sakiko looked into Seiji's eyes. Her voice was so soft a wind could scatter it.
"From every strand of hair to every toe, from my body to... even that so-called dignity."
"Do whatever you want to me."
"As long as you keep your promise."
This was an offering.
She'd offered herself in exchange for her father's life, and for her only shelter in this cruel world.
Seiji looked at the girl before him.
He didn't show that lustful expression. He remained seated on the sofa, his calm gaze scanning this young, beautiful body.
He was confirming.
Confirming that this proud white swan had truly broken her wings.
She was trembling, but her eyes were cold.
That was good.
It meant she'd accepted reality. She was no longer trying to resist him with that laughable pride, but had chosen complete submission.
This submission gave Seiji far more pleasure than fierce resistance.
Because it meant that in the furnace called "reality," Sakiko had been reforged into the shape he desired.
"Come here."
Seiji extended a hand, palm up.
Sakiko paused for a moment.
Then she moved her stiff legs, walking step by step to stand before Seiji.
She knelt.
Not to beg, but to make it easier for him to touch her.
Her cold knees met the carpet. She obediently lowered her head, pressing her cheek into Seiji's palm.
Like a wounded cat seeking shelter.
Or rather, like a possession that had finally found its owner.
Seiji's fingers threaded through her wet hair, gently stroking her cold nape.
"Megumi."
He called out to the empty air.
"Here."
A girl in professional attire appeared from somewhere in the corner of the living room.
Sakiko was slightly startled but didn't turn. She'd known about this girl with such a thin presence for a while now.
"Make arrangements."
Seiji's voice remained calm. "Put Kiyotsugu Toyokawa on the plane. Create new identity documents and put a hundred thousand dollars in his account. Tell him his daughter traded herself for this."
"Also, notify Legal. Contact the Tokyo prosecutor's office and the courts."
Seiji's eyes turned cold for a moment. "Find all the irregularities in that 16.8 billion and have them thrown out."
"Yes."
Megumi acknowledged and left.
Hearing this, Sakiko's tense body finally relaxed.
She knew the deal was done.
Her father would survive.
And she had completely fallen.
...
At the same time.
Keimei University Hospital, VIP lounge.
Yuichi Toyokawa sat on the sofa, champagne glass in hand, a smile of barely concealed triumph on his face.
The old man was finally gone.
The will wasn't completely sorted yet, but as long as he could drive the Kiyotsugu branch to death, the entire Toyokawa family would be his.
"Second Master."
Just then, his lawyer rushed in, his expression troubled.
"What is it?" Yuichi frowned. "Did you catch that waste Kiyotsugu? Or has he already jumped off a building?"
"No..."
The lawyer wiped the cold sweat from his brow and handed over an electronic fax just received. "The court rejected part of our application."
"What?"
Yuichi was stunned. He took the document.
It clearly stated that Kiyotsugu Toyokawa's 16.8 billion debt and all derivative liabilities contained illegalities.
The claim was therefore dismissed, and the debt declared void.
CRASH!
Yuichi hurled his wine glass to the floor. Glass shards scattered everywhere as he demanded furiously, "Who did this?"
"It seems... the Genesis Group's legal department is involved." The lawyer kept his head down.
"Seiji Fujiwara?!"
Yuichi froze, then ground out the name through clenched teeth, facial muscles twitching with rage. "Is he insane?! That's 16.8 billion in bad debt! All for that little brat?!"
"Second Master, what should we do?" the lawyer asked carefully. "If we push this, we'll be going up against Genesis. Seiji Fujiwara is... not someone to cross lightly. I hear he has connections in both legitimate and underground circles."
Yuichi panted heavily, chest heaving.
Of course he knew Seiji wasn't someone to mess with. This was a monster who'd devoured Tohto Medical Group in mere weeks, then made even the Japanese government unable to recover the wreckage!
Honestly, Yuichi had no idea how such a monster had appeared in Japan.
If he went to war with Genesis over 16.8 billion, it might jeopardize his newly acquired inheritance rights, maybe even shake the Toyokawa family's foundations.
The Toyokawa family had enemies too!
Not worth it.
Far too costly.
He was a businessman, not a madman.
Though unwilling, in the face of profit, Yuichi could only compromise.
"Forget it."
Yuichi waved his hand with a sigh. "If that's what Seiji Fujiwara wants, let him have it."