Seiji felt no psychological burden whatsoever as he ignored the message, letting matters ferment as they would.
He'd never been a good person to begin with.
...
...
Kyoto, Gion District.
This was one of Japan's oldest geisha quarters.
Ancient townhouses with white walls and black-tiled roofs, quiet cobblestone paths, the delicate sound of wooden geta clogs... time itself seemed to flow differently here than in the outside world.
Being here felt like stepping into a ukiyo-e print from a bygone era.
Outside one such narrow street.
A black Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly came to a stop in front of an unassuming sukiya-style restaurant, drawing countless astonished and curious gazes from tourists.
Two elegantly dressed attendants in kimono had been waiting respectfully. The instant the vehicle stopped, they bowed humbly and opened the rear door for the distinguished passenger.
Seiji stepped out leisurely, the increasingly dense aura of authority surrounding him creating a strange yet harmonious resonance with this ancient capital's millennium-old elegance.
Megumi Kato also emerged from the car.
Tonight, she wore a moon-white dress.
The design was extremely simple, without any superfluous decoration, relying solely on premium silk fabric and perfect tailoring to outline her light and beautiful girlish figure just right.
"Mm." Seiji nodded calmly, naturally extending his arm.
Megumi hesitated for a moment before obediently taking his arm.
The high-necked design wrapped around her slender neck, the hem reaching her ankles swaying gently in the evening breeze, making her entire person resemble a white water lily quietly blooming under moonlight.
Gorgeous, yet not revealing.
Noble, and inviolable.
This outfit perfectly brought out her unique temperament.
"Fujiwara-sama, we've been awaiting your arrival."
The restaurant's white-haired proprietress personally came out to greet them, wearing the highest-grade black montsuki, her face bearing the most humble and respectful smile as she bowed deeply to Seiji.
This restaurant was one of Kyoto's most exclusive private establishments, operating entirely on a referral basis. Supposedly even Diet members needed to book months in advance.
Yet Seiji was an honored guest who could visit anytime.
"Please, follow me."
Under the proprietress's almost fawning guidance, the two walked through the silent garden covered in precious moss, arriving at the private room with the best view.
One entire wall of the room was constructed from a single massive pane of glass, facing directly toward an ancient pine in the courtyard said to be five hundred years old. The scenery was exquisite.
Inside the room.
Megumi sat quietly with her back straight.
Soft lighting fell upon her serene profile, her fair skin seeming to glow.
This unique and pure aura quickly drew the attention of other guests outside the room.
Regardless of age or gender, they all unconsciously stopped their conversations, their gazes drawn to the young girl by the window.
They showed expressions of admiration, as if witnessing something rarely seen and beautiful.
"That young lady... from which family? I've never seen her in Kyoto's social circles."
"Such remarkable presence... she's like a princess who walked out of The Tale of Genji."
"To bring such a girl to 'Kikunoi,' that young man must be no ordinary person..."
Hearing these whispers, the smile at Seiji's lips deepened.
Such an exquisite young girl, yet she belonged to him alone.
And every night, she was tasted at his leisure, toyed with to his heart's content.
Thinking of this, Seiji felt secretly pleased, a scorching heat rising faintly in his lower abdomen.
Just then, the private room door was gently slid open.
"Pardon the intrusion."
Unexpectedly, the person entering wasn't a waitress but a tall middle-aged man wearing a snow-white chef's uniform.
He was the restaurant's head chef, also one of Kyoto's premier culinary masters... Tokumitsu Masayuki. His standing in various circles was comparable to a cabinet minister, and his personality was notoriously eccentric and aloof.
Yet at this moment, this legendary chef's face bore a rare, genuine smile.
He carried an exquisite paulownia wood box in his hands, walking directly to Megumi Kato and bowing slightly.
"Young lady," his voice was mellow and filled with respect, "please allow me to present you with this dessert not on the menu... 'First Snow.' It was born from inspiration that struck me just moments ago in the kitchen, upon seeing your pure figure."
"Your beauty and presence are like the first perfectly flawless snowflake falling on a winter day, reminding me of my youthful days in Hokkaido pursuing the ultimate in flavor. This dessert is my tribute to your pure beauty."
With that, he gently opened the paulownia box.
Inside lay what appeared to be a wagashi sculpted from ice crystals, translucent and clear, emanating a cold, snow-lotus-like fragrance.
This sudden scene left the nearby guests displaying shocked expressions.
They knew Tokumitsu Masayuki's temperament all too well!
Forget personally coming out to present dishes... getting him to say one extra word was difficult as ascending to heaven!
Yet today, he'd not only personally prepared a special dessert for an unfamiliar young girl, his words were filled with an artist's highest praise for his "muse"!
"Thank you, Tokumitsu-sensei. It's beautiful."
Faced with this honor, Megumi merely inclined her head slightly, using her characteristic serene and calm tone to express thanks softly.
Her face showed not the slightest surprise or feeling flattered. That composure and calmness further added a sacred, otherworldly aura to her entire presence.
Watching this scene, the guests and all the restaurant's attendants once again marveled inwardly at the girl's sanctified beautiful temperament.
And the young man who'd won the favor of such a perfect girl was truly enviable.
The gazes they directed at Seiji were filled with undisguised envy.
Seiji's smile deepened. He savored these gazes, savored how his woman appeared sacred and dignified in outsiders' eyes.
That way, when he alone appreciated her degradation, the exclusive, hidden pleasure would reach its peak.
...
Dishes were presented one after another like works of art.
Seiji cut his steak while tasting sake, casually chatting with Megumi Kato about light topics.
However, Megumi Kato couldn't swallow her food.
Because just moments ago, when the waitress temporarily withdrew, Seiji had looked at her and asked in a voice only the two of them could hear, his tone playful:
"Megumi, do you know why they're all looking at you?"
Megumi shook her head uncomprehendingly.
"Because what they see is a perfect, pure saint who seems never to have been touched by a man." Seiji's tone was gentle, but the words flowing forth carried a strange flavor.
"Only I know,"
He leaned closer, scorching breath spraying against her earlobe, "what kind of trembling spectacle this saintly body presents when crying, begging for mercy, even actively spreading her legs beneath me."
"Only I have heard your shameful moans like a kitten's."
Buzz...
Megumi Kato's mind instantly went blank.
Shame, humiliation, embarrassment... they submerged her like a tide.
The chopsticks in her hand dropped to the floor with a "clatter," producing a crisp sound.
"I'm sorry... I, I didn't hold them properly." Under curious gazes from the neighboring table, Megumi was so rigid she nearly fainted.
She desperately lowered her head, her fair neck instantly taking on a captivating crimson flush.
"It's fine." Seiji's smile grew increasingly playful. He savored her appearance of desperately maintaining composure, eyes brimming with moisture yet not daring to act out.
...
The return trip was deathly silent.
Seiji sent her back to the detached house that belonged to her. At the entrance, he didn't immediately leave but followed her inside.
Megumi Kato's heart sank. She knew tonight wasn't over yet.
Sure enough, while changing shoes in the entryway, Seiji gently embraced her from behind.
"Tonight has just begun. Let's enjoy ourselves properly, Megumi." His low voice whispered in her ear.
Megumi Kato's body stiffened for three seconds.
But immediately after, she resignedly relaxed.
She silently turned around, quietly knelt down, extended slightly trembling hands, and skillfully unbuckled Seiji's belt.
That face usually serene and calm showed humiliation and numbness.
She opened her small mouth, movements awkward yet not daring the slightest disobedience. A scent belonging to aggressive masculinity instantly filled her oral cavity.
She instinctively wanted to gag but desperately suppressed it, because she knew any trace of resistance would only invite this man's even longer, more excessive "punishment."
Seiji looked down, staring directly at the girl at his feet.
Watching her slender shoulders trembling violently from endurance, watching her tightly closed eyes, watching that pretty face stained with his scent, becoming utterly disheveled.
Seiji felt no sympathy whatsoever in his heart, only the pleasure of personally defiling a perfect work of art and claiming it as his own.
...
The next day, Megumi woke to soreness throughout her body.
Looking at her slightly swollen eyes and pale face in the mirror, she sighed inwardly.
Life had become a certain kind of "routine."
By day, she was Toyonosaki's invisible person, an ordinary student. By night, she was his exclusive plaything for venting desires, forced to cooperate in various shameful "developments."
Days passed one by one. Considerable time had elapsed since her parents' plane crash.
Megumi suddenly remembered.
According to legal procedures, that enormous insurance compensation should be arriving in her account about now.
That day, after cleaning the apartment, Megumi stopped by a bank ATM to check her account balance.
However, the number displayed on the screen showed no change whatsoever.
Doubt rose in her heart.
After returning home, she took out the insurance contract and dialed the customer service number for "Daido Life Insurance Company."
The phone rang for a long time before being answered. A polite female voice came through: "Hello, this is Daido Life."
"Hello, I'd like to inquire about the claim progress for policy number XXXX related to a plane crash."
"Certainly, please wait... Yes, your application is currently still under review." The other party's tone was full of impatient dismissiveness.
"Still under review? But it's been nearly two months since the accident occurred."
"All procedures follow this timeline. Please wait patiently." After saying this, the other party hung up with a "click" without waiting for Megumi Kato to ask more questions.
Megumi held the receiver, her brows furrowing tightly.
Intuition told her this matter wasn't so simple.
She opened her computer and typed keywords into a search engine: "Daido Life," "plane crash," "compensation."
Soon, some anonymous forum posts appeared on the screen.
[Are there any families of victims from XX Airlines' crash? Have you received compensation from Daido Life?]
[No! When I call to ask, it's always "under review"! I suspect they want to default!]
[Same here! This company's reputation has never been good!]
[There's a LINE group that victims' families built ourselves. Everyone join to discuss together... strength in numbers. Group number: XXXXXX]
Reading these posts, Megumi Kato's heart gradually sank.
After thinking, she took out her phone and applied to join that LINE group.
...
...
Meanwhile.
On the top floor of a skyscraper in central Osaka, Daido Life Insurance Company's board of directors was convening in a smoke-filled conference room.
The conference room's décor was extremely luxurious yet exuded an unstoppable nouveau riche vulgarity.
The seated directors, each in suits and ties, looked every inch respectable, but all bore an indelible air of thuggery in their brows.
This company's predecessor had been a notorious yakuza organization in the Kansai region. Riding the tide of the times, they'd whitewashed themselves, donning the cloak of a financial company, but their inherent operational style had never changed.
"Look at this!"
The company president, Okuma Shigenobu, his face covered in fleshy wrinkles, violently slammed a financial statement onto the table.
"If we pay out in full according to the contracts for this plane crash, the total amount exceeds 30 billion yen! That'll swallow all our profits from the past three years! This year's financial report will look absolutely terrible! Those old bastards on the board will eat us alive!"
The conference room fell deathly silent.
A director with a mustache spoke in a sinister tone: "President, this isn't our first day in business. Remember the chemical factory fire in Jonan? We dragged that out too, and in the end paid less than a tenth of what we owed, sending those poor wretches packing, didn't we?"
"Exactly!" another director chimed in. "Laws are dead, people are alive. We have plenty of ways to deal with these families who've lost their breadwinners."
Okuma Shigenobu's face broke into a fierce grin. "Seems everyone's on the same page."
He pressed a button on the desk, speaking coldly into the microphone: "Send in the wakagashira from the Black Dragon Syndicate."
Soon, a fierce-looking man wearing a floral shirt covered in tattoos walked in, bowing respectfully to Okuma Shigenobu. "President."
"Kuroda," Okuma Shigenobu extracted a thick cigar from a cigar box, cut it, lit it, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled smoke. "Time for your 'Negotiation Department' to stretch your muscles."
"Old rules... start with the weakest. Old people, women, children... pay them visits one by one. Apply a little pressure. Let them understand what reality means."
"My target for you is: use consolation money not exceeding one percent of the total payout to get everyone to sign this agreement."
He tossed a settlement agreement prepared in advance, full of legal traps, in front of Kuroda.
"Pull this off, and your 'Negotiation Department's' year-end bonus doubles."
Kuroda picked up the agreement, his face breaking into a cruel, greedy smile.
"Hai! Rest assured, President. We're professionals at dealing with ordinary people."
...
...
That evening.
Osaka, Nishinari Ward.
In an office hidden in a rundown apartment building, the air reeked of cheap alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat mixed together.
This was the den of the Black Dragon Syndicate... the "Negotiation Department" kept by Daido Life Insurance Company.
"Damn, wrapped up two more families."
A man with a face full of wrinkles, the Black Dragon Syndicate's wakagashira Kuroda, casually tossed settlement agreements stamped with red ink onto the table.
Bare-chested, revealing a vicious black dragon tattoo covering his entire back, he poured ice-cold beer down his throat while laughing loudly at his underlings: "See how that old geezer shook like a leaf signing the agreement? Fucking satisfying!"
His several subordinates joined in raucous laughter.
Just moments ago, they'd visited an elderly household that had lost their son.
They hadn't done anything... just stood in that elderly couple's living room. That heavy aura of violence alone was enough to make the two old people sign a "consolation agreement" paying less than one percent of the proper amount, trembling all the while.
To them, this was as simple as breathing.
"Call from the boss." A subordinate handed over a phone.
Kuroda answered, immediately switching to a humble tone: "President Okuma, the matters you entrusted have been completed for five families. Everything went quite smoothly."
A satisfied voice came through from the other end: "Very good. Maintain that efficiency."
...
Kuroda hung up and flipped to the next target's information.
A photo of a refined-looking girl popped up.
"Kato Megumi... seventeen years old... parents deceased, currently living alone."
Looking at that serene, calm face in the photo, he couldn't help but sneer.
"Perfect... a powerless little girl. This'll be easier than the last ones."