The thought flickered like a spark in the fog of her mind, and the memories she'd been trying to suppress ignited all at once. Vivid. Merciless.
Two days. Three nights.
A full forty-eight hours.
It had felt like torture without end. From the stubborn resistance at the start, to the broken begging halfway through, to the final, total numbness... her stamina, her willpower, her pride, all of it ground to dust beneath that man. Not even fragments remained.
"Ngh..."
Haruno tried to push herself upright. A wave of deep, bone-level soreness answered from every limb, dragging a strangled groan from her throat before she collapsed back into the mattress.
Her body didn't feel like hers anymore.
He'd fucked her so many times she'd lost count. Her pussy was sore, swollen, and still twitching.
The bathroom door swung open and Seiji walked out, looking thoroughly refreshed. A towel hung low on his hips. His bare torso still carried that same powerful V-taper, showing not the slightest trace of fatigue after two days and nights of relentless exertion.
"Awake?" His voice carried the lazy satisfaction of a man well-fed. "Your body's even more interesting than I expected."
Haruno said nothing. She watched him with eyes that held fear and humiliation and something else, something she refused to name.
She couldn't hate him. She'd tried. Not a shred of animosity would take root.
Worse, when his gaze landed on her, her body responded with a tremor so shameful it made her want to scream.
"Get dressed." Seiji tossed a neatly folded business suit onto the bed in front of her. "Your holiday's over. The driver's waiting outside."
Haruno recognized the outfit. It was what she'd worn on arrival, laundered by the maids.
She sat up in silence, gritting her teeth against the sensation of her body coming apart at the seams, and began putting the clothes on piece by piece.
Every movement tugged at muscles buried deep, sending sharp aches rippling through her with each breath.
Seiji leaned against the headboard and watched, visibly entertained by the sight of her struggling with quiet, stubborn dignity. Like a one-woman mime show.
When she finally stood, fully dressed, restored to the flawless image of the Yukinoshita family's eldest daughter, her legs buckled.
She stumbled, nearly going down.
A strong arm caught her around the waist and pulled her into a chest that burned with familiar heat.
"Miss me already?" Seiji murmured against her ear. Warm breath grazed her skin, and her whole body shuddered.
"...Thank you." She didn't pull away. Her voice came out raw and low.
"Don't mention it."
He let go with a quiet laugh, but his hand didn't fully release her. Instead it slid down and caught her cool fingers in his.
"I'll walk you out."
He led her from the bedroom, still thick with the evidence of their weekend.
Haruno moved on autopilot, her gaze drifting to their clasped hands. Her mind was blank.
Then a memory surfaced, unbidden.
Long ago, her mother had told her a Secret passed down orally through the Yukinoshita main family line. The legend of the Snow Woman trait.
According to the old story, women who inherited this trait ran cold by nature. Desire lay dormant in them, suppressed to near-nothing.
But dormant wasn't absent.
Once the seal broke, once they tasted the forbidden, all that compressed desire would erupt like a volcano, surging beyond control. An ordinary man couldn't satisfy it. He'd be drained dry, his vitality sapped, his life shortened.
But if a man could fully sate that eruption of need...
Her body and mind would form an irreversible bond. A physiological imprint. Instinctive, unshakable devotion.
Her mother had been skeptical when she'd mentioned it, treating it like a bizarre family ghost story.
Haruno herself had never believed a word of it.
But everything that had happened this weekend...
The stamina that seemed to have no bottom. The skin growing colder yet more sensitive. And now, this craving she couldn't crush no matter how hard she tried, this pull toward the man beside her...
It all pointed to that ancient legend being true.
A terrifying thought crystallized.
Seiji Fujiwara, that inhuman monster... satisfied me?
Does that mean I'm going to fall in love with him, and there's nothing I can do to stop it?
The color drained from her face.
No. I refuse.
She shook her head hard, trying to fling the thought away.
It's a delusion. Nothing more. My body is temporarily dependent on him because he was too overwhelming. That's all.
Once I pay back those five billion yen... once I cut ties with him, no, sever them completely... everything goes back to normal.
She drew a long breath and repeated the conviction to herself until it felt solid.
They'd reached the front entrance. A black Rolls-Royce idled in the drive.
Seiji stopped and released her hand.
He didn't say another word. He simply looked at her with those eyes that seemed to see through everything, one long, penetrating glance.
Haruno's heart clenched. She broke eye contact first, pulled open the car door, and slid inside.
The car eased forward, gliding toward the alloy gate as it swung open.
Just as the vehicle was about to leave the estate, some impulse she couldn't name made her look back.
Seiji stood exactly where she'd left him, wearing that smile she both feared and craved, half-playful, half-predatory. He raised a hand in a casual wave.
Her chest tightened. She couldn't look any longer. She dropped her head.
...
After Haruno left, Seiji returned to the villa's study.
The moment he sat down, that cold, emotionless chime rang through his mind right on schedule.
[Ding!]
[Core conquest target "Haruno Yukinoshita" Phase 1 conquest complete.]
[Distributing phase rewards...]
[Received Reward 1: Intelligence file... "Chiba Prefecture Political-Business Black Book" distributed.]
[Received Reward 2: Intelligence file... "Snow Woman Trait Report" distributed.]
Accept rewards.
He closed his eyes.
Two massive streams of information flooded into his consciousness.
The Chiba Prefecture Political-Business Black Book: a comprehensive dossier cataloguing the hidden financial pipelines, personal dirt, and tangled networks of influence connecting most of Chiba's local assemblymen, key government officials, and regional businessmen.
The Snow Woman Trait Report: a detailed analysis of the physiological traits and psychological shifts occurring during the trait's "initial activation" phase. Enhanced stamina and recovery, physiological dependence on the "satisfier," and the preliminary formation mechanism of an "absolute loyalty imprint" triggered under specific conditions.
"So that's how it works." Seiji opened his eyes, understanding clicking into place.
He finally knew why Haruno had lasted so long under his inhuman pace.
"The Snow Woman trait... fascinating."
He ran his tongue across his lips, interest sharpening behind his eyes.
This discovery made the next phase of conditioning something to look forward to.
And the Black Book was a windfall he hadn't anticipated.
His original plan had been to funnel his Tokyo capital and connections into a brute-force lifeline for Haruno.
But now, with this dossier in hand, he could make Chiba's bankers deliver money to Haruno's doorstep of their own volition, without spending a single yen of his own.
Better yet, it let him enter Haruno's world not as a mundane financier, but as something stranger. Something inexplicable. The kind of figure whose reach defied all logic.
While Seiji mapped out his next moves...
...
A private room in one of Chiba's finest ryotei, security tight at every entrance.
Hiroaki Yukinoshita, elder of the Yukinoshita branch family, was beaming as he poured sake for the middle-aged man seated beside him.
That man was Kensaku Anzai, president of Sumitomo Bank's Chiba branch.
"Mr. Anzai." Hiroaki's smile was generous and warm. "I'll leave this matter in your capable hands. Once your people choke off Haruno's credit lines, and once I've secured Yukinoshita Construction, that parcel of land you've had your eye on? I guarantee it transfers to your name at the lowest possible price."
Anzai lifted his cup and took a leisurely sip, his face the picture of self-satisfaction.
"You're too kind, Mr. Hiroaki. We go back a long way." He smiled. "And frankly, the Yukinoshita family deserves to be led by a proper adult who understands how things work."
Around the table, branch presidents from several of Chiba's major banks chimed in with knowing laughter.
"Absolutely. Only someone like Mr. Hiroaki is fit to lead the Yukinoshita family."
"That girl's still wet behind the ears."
"You have our full support."
---
Monday morning. Haruno endured the aches and returned to her office.
Her makeup was immaculate, not a single flaw visible. The woman who'd been wrecked inside that villa had been buried so deep no one would ever find her.
She sat at her desk. The mountain of documents in front of her might as well have been blank paper. Not a single word registered.
Her mind kept replaying the weekend on a loop she couldn't shut off.
Seiji Fujiwara...
His warmth. His scent. His voice.
And the pleasure he'd brought crashing over her like a tsunami, annihilating everything...
Crack.
She slammed her pen down on the desk, the sharp sound snapping through the quiet office.
Stop it.
It was a transaction. Nothing more.
Haruno Yukinoshita does not lose herself over something like this.
She forced a deep breath and dragged her focus back to the work.
She'd barely rekindled that spark of determination when a knock came at her door.
"Come in."
Her secretary entered, face tight with poorly concealed alarm.
"Miss Yukinoshita, we have a problem." The woman's voice wavered. "Sumitomo Bank, Mitsubishi UFJ, and Mizuho... they called almost simultaneously. They've frozen all of our company's credit lines, and they're demanding full repayment of every maturing loan within one week."
"What?!"
Haruno shot to her feet, the blood draining from her face.
All credit lines frozen at once? Forced repayment on an impossible timeline?
This wasn't debt collection. This was a stranglehold. Designed to bankrupt Yukinoshita Construction on the spot.
One name surfaced immediately.
Hiroaki Yukinoshita.
Her dear uncle, pulling strings from the shadows.
Ice crawled up from the soles of her feet to the crown of her skull.
...
Meanwhile, in Seiji's study.
He picked up his phone, found Kensaku Anzai's private number in the Black Book, and dialed.
...
Inside the ryotei's private room, the celebration was at its peak.
In the middle of a toast, Anzai's personal phone rang, cutting through the laughter.
He glanced at the screen. An unknown Tokyo number. His thumb moved toward the reject button.
Hiroaki nudged him with a grin. "My, my, Mr. Anzai. Business never stops, does it? Don't tell me some big shot from Tokyo wants to take you to dinner."
The flattery had Anzai riding high. He answered with a half-smile and tapped the speaker icon.
"Hello? Who's this?"
A young, calm voice came through the line, carrying the unhurried composure of someone looking down from a great height.
"Mr. Anzai. This is Seiji Fujiwara."
Seiji Fujiwara.
The room went silent.
Everyone present was a figure of consequence in Chiba. They all knew the name.
The literary prodigy. The entertainment industry's invisible kingmaker. A young enigma who'd risen through Tokyo with ruthless speed.
Anzai and Hiroaki exchanged a glance. Surprise and confusion mirrored in both faces.
"Fujiwara-sensei. What an honor." Anzai cleared his throat, his tone shifting to rehearsed courtesy. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Skip the pleasantries." Seiji's voice didn't change. Still flat, still calm. "I'm calling about Yukinoshita Construction's loan situation. I believe Miss Haruno's business plan has strong prospects. I'd appreciate it if your bank would reconsider."
Frowns spread across the room.
He's here for the girl?
The smile faded from Anzai's face. He shot a look at Hiroaki, who gave a small shake of his head. Don't hold back.
Anzai understood. Hiroaki wanted him to use this call to put the Tokyo upstart in his place. Remind him that Chiba wasn't his playground.
His tone turned dismissive. Bored.
"Ah, that matter..."
"Fujiwara-sensei, you're a man of letters. You may not be familiar with how things work in finance. Yukinoshita Construction's current situation..." He drew the words out with theatrical pity. "To be blunt, it's rotten to the core. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."
"Nothing you can do?" On the other end, Seiji let out a quiet laugh.
"That's right." Anzai leaned back, swirling his sake with a satisfied grin. "Chiba's affairs are Chiba's affairs, Fujiwara-sensei. No need for Tokyo to lose sleep over them."
He didn't wait for a reply. He ended the call.
The dial tone hummed in the silent room.
Then the dam broke.
"Ha! Brilliant, Mr. Anzai!" A banker thrust his thumb in the air. "That's how you teach these Tokyo types. A dragon from abroad can't crush the local snake!"
"Exactly! Some entertainment mogul thinks he can meddle in finance? Laughable."
"The arrogance of the young. One taste of success and they think they own the world."
"This is our turf!"
Hiroaki's grin stretched ear to ear. He raised his cup. "To you, Mr. Anzai. Well played."
"Ha!" Anzai clinked glasses and drank deep.
...
In the villa's study.
Seiji listened to the dead line for a moment, his expression unchanged. Only his eyes shifted, something cold settling into their depths.
"Courtesy before the sword."
He set the phone down and spoke quietly to himself.
"I've extended the courtesy. Time for the sword."
He picked up the phone again, found Anzai's number, and dialed a second time.
---
Inside the ryotei's private room, the celebration was cresting.
"Ha! Brilliant work, Anzai!" Hiroaki raised his cup, face flushed, and clinked it against Anzai's glass.
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