"Bakayarou!"
"Damn it all! I couldn't tear myself away from her!"
"That fool Toshiyuki Eide! Bringing that thing in here—is he trying to get us all killed?!"
The moment they stepped out of the villa, the faces of the three men—Hayashinari Yamanaka, Nishimura, and Tagami—instantly changed. They flew into a rage, one after another bursting into furious curses.
Their composed shells shattered into dust, replaced by an irrepressible fury and terror, along with a lingering dread that refused to fade.
It was as if they had just fled from a gas chamber, yet had no way to confirm whether any of the virus still clung to their bodies.
"Fortunately, our contact with Tomie wasn't long—our desire for Tomie isn't enough to shake our resolve!"
Nishimura raised a hand to adjust his glasses, muttering to himself.
Tomie's allure was indeed otherworldly, but for political animals like them, power was everything; the poison of power held far greater allure than Tomie's charm.
Compared to supreme power, what was a woman worth?
So long as they had power, they could forever possess vigorous bodies and youthful appearances; wealth and beautiful women came at a beckon and could be dismissed with a wave.
But the moment they lost their power, they would become the lowliest commoners in the eyes of those they once looked down upon.
"They're finished."
At that same moment, in the villa's great hall, Takaichi shook her head.
Kawakami Tomie—any man who became entangled with this woman was destined to grow obsessed with her allure, ultimately driven mad, brutally slaughtering and dismembering Kawakami Tomie, after which yet more Kawakami Tomies would be born from the pieces of her corpse.
Those whose entanglement ran shallow and whose will was firm usually did not fall captive to Kawakami Tomie's demonic charm—otherwise society would have collapsed long ago.
But the organization would not permit any hidden danger to arise.
Even if there was only a one-percent chance of being affected by Tomie, one would be marginalized until observation confirmed that one's mental state was still normal—but by that time, one's position would long since have been taken by another.
"Lady Takaichi, please look over there."
The maid returned to Takaichi's side and reminded her in a soft voice.
Takaichi looked in the direction the maid indicated, her gaze crossing the spacious hall and settling on that lounge area.
There, Tsubakihara Tomomi, Sato Kei, and Tanabe Michiko were gathered around a young man whose back was turned to her. The man's figure was tall and upright, like a lone pine on a mountainside; even as he was faintly encircled by the three of them, he gave off an air of detachment utterly out of place amid the surrounding ostentation.
"That man came together with Toshiyuki Eide and Kawakami Tomie."
Hearing this, Takaichi narrowed her eyes.
Someone the Toshiyuki brought along? With a woman like Tomie at his side, he would still bring along another man?
"Let's go take a look."
Takaichi, deep in thought, picked up her champagne glass and walked over at a leisurely, unhurried pace.
The hem of her dark green gown swayed gently with each step, and wherever she passed, the sound of chatter and laughter unconsciously dropped a few notes, with some inclining their heads in respectful greeting.
Only when she had drawn near did she get a clear look at the man's features.
Very young—no more than twenty.
His features were upright and clean-cut, with a touch of stern, dignified vigor between his brows.
Amid the interplay of light and shadow, that face seemed to carry a serene focal quality all its own, making everything around it inexplicably appear frivolous and flimsy.
A smile of certain victory hung on Tsubakihara Tomomi's face as she reached out to touch the man's arm: "Amamiya-kun, don't be so cold—it's just one dance, it won't cost you a pound of flesh."
Without any change in his expression, the man stepped back half a pace, neatly avoiding that hand.
"I'm not good at it, nor am I interested. I have matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave."
His voice was calm, carrying a coldness that kept others at arm's length; his whole being radiated an aversion to his surroundings as he lifted his foot, attempting to slip away from between the three women.
"Miss Tsubakihara, Sato, Miss Tanabe."
Takaichi stepped forward, positioning herself squarely in the path of Amamiya Rin's departure. A graceful smile surfaced on her face; her gaze first swept over the three ladies before naturally coming to rest on Amamiya Rin.
"And who is this?"
"Lady Takaichi."
Sato Kei was the first to greet her, her tone carrying a familiarity laced with just the right measure of intimacy.
Tsubakihara Tomomi and Tanabe Michiko also drew back half a step, making room.
"You've come over as well? This is Amamiya-kun, a newcomer here for the first time today. We were just inviting this Amamiya-kun to the dance floor, but unfortunately he doesn't seem inclined to do us the honor."
Sato Kei said this half in jest.
"Good evening, Lady Takaichi."
Tsubakihara Tomomi and Tanabe Michiko chimed in with smiles as well, yet their eyes couldn't help but drift back toward Amamiya Rin.
There was a peculiar sense of purity about this man; the closer one drew, the more it set one's heart itching—itching to tear open that cold shell of his and pin him down to do as one pleased.
"Amamiya-kun? Hello, I'm Takaichi."
Takaichi inclined her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Amamiya Rin's face, sizing him up unhurriedly from head to toe before she extended her right hand in front of Amamiya Rin.
Amamiya Rin did not extend his hand.
Not only did he not extend his hand, he furrowed his brow instead.
This face... looked somewhat familiar—it overlapped seventy or eighty percent with a certain face in his memory.
Kawahara Miyuki?
That's right! It was Kawahara Miyuki!
By comparison, the woman before him was somewhat older, her temperament worlds apart, and there were many differences in the finer details of her face as well—as though it had undergone exquisite refinement, rounder than Kawahara Miyuki's and appearing more beautiful too.
But—it looked a little fake.
Amamiya Rin's gaze grew ever more profound. His eyes swept past Takaichi's face and turned toward the various so-called artistic furnishings elsewhere, and an idea he was unwilling to believe rose up from within his heart.
Even if she had killed a dozen or more people, even going through an expedited channel, Kawahara Miyuki should not yet have reached the time of her execution—she ought to still be in prison...
"Is Amamiya-kun unaccustomed to occasions like this?"
Takaichi's hand paused in the air for a few seconds before she calmly withdrew it; the smile on her face did not change in the slightest—if anything, it deepened.
Her gaze lingered unabashedly on Amamiya Rin's face, even more fervent than before.
Unlike the men at the party—some fawning, some oily, some affecting a feigned depth—this young man was very clean, possessing an air of standing aloof from the world, so much so that he was utterly out of place at this party.
And this young man seemed to have no intention of blending into the party's atmosphere either; in his every gesture and movement, he displayed a blunt aversion.
But this very cleanliness and purity only made the wicked desire in Takaichi's heart all the stronger.
The cleaner he was, the more she wanted to soil him. The colder he was, the more she wanted to see him lose control. This face, this body—if they could be stained with the filth of desire, contorted into the ugly throes of greed or terror, how exquisite would that be?
"How about doing me the honor of a dance? As one of the hosts, I'll take it upon myself to let you experience the pleasures of the party."
The tip of Takaichi's tongue licked lightly across her lower lip, her gaze as blatant as a beast yielding to its instinctive desires.
She had it all worked out: first enjoy the pleasure of dancing with a handsome young man, then treat him to a glass of champagne laced with "computer parts," and finally take him straight up to the bedroom on the second floor...
At this thought, a smile curved at the corner of Takaichi's lips as well.
____
👻🔥+40 ch on Pátreon: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Zenless Zone Zero: Rewriting Fate in New Eridu — read it on The_Mikudayo
📚 Forty chapters of advanced reading at Walnut-chan, and it goes straight into keeping the translations on schedule
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