I planted a sacred tree in Tokyo.

Chapter 27 Playing tricks
"Everyone, turn to page 64. Today we will..."

At Suimi High School, teacher 'Yuan-Nagisa' reads the textbook fluently.

The students below were either daydreaming or openly playing on their phones. Only a handful were listening attentively and taking notes, a situation that everyone had become accustomed to.

Although the average university entrance rate for high schools in Tokyo is 69.6%, the rate for private high schools is 98%, which concentrates the descendants of most of the island nation's elite class; as for public schools, which are 'averaged out', the situation is predictable.

It had the air of 'Kobe and I combined for 83 points'.

As she read from the textbook, Professor Yuanzhu's gaze swept over the back row by the window.

Yuu Akihi, who should have been considered a 'good student,' seems to be quite absent-minded lately.

That's true. The loss of his parents, suspected bullying, and being questioned by the police—even an adult would find it hard to withstand such a series of blows. I hope he can pull himself together.

The teacher was giving a lesson while this thought kept flashing through her mind.

However, the truth is—

Akihi Yuu wasn't wallowing in 'melancholy'; instead, she was using paper clones to practice ninjutsu.

---

"Mom, it's me."

In Banqiao District, in a detached house built in the 1980s,

A slightly hoarse voice came from the telephone placed on a round embroidered tablecloth from the last century.

"Hmm? Your voice sounds off? Maybe your throat is a little sore."

The words of the middle-aged man on the other end of the phone,

With a mix of shame and anxiety.

"Here's the thing, I embezzled company money, and the prosecutor's office is coming down tomorrow. If I can't pay it back before then, I'll be fired."

"Not much, not much, could you help me prepare 200 million?"

"Okay, Mom, I'll pay you back!"

"Okay, I'll have my subordinate come and get it. Please give it to him."

Not long after,

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me,"

The old-fashioned wooden door was pushed open, and a young man in a suit and tie, with his hair parted in a side part and exuding the aura of a 'corporate slave', stood smiling outside the door.

"You are Inoue-senpai's mother, right?"

"Yes, that's why I came here."

After listening to the young man's words, an elderly woman with a hunched back tremblingly took out an envelope.

Two million yen isn't a lot, but it's certainly not a small amount either! But for her son's future, the white-haired, gaunt old woman took it out without hesitation, handing it to the other party while asking questions.

"How is my son?"

In response to the old lady's question, the visitor simply bowed and nodded, speaking in a way that was all too familiar to him.

"Yes, don't worry, I will definitely hand it over to you, senior."

The envelopes were exchanged between two hands, one young, rosy, and vigorous, the other old, withered, and wrinkled.

"Goodbye."

Having received the money, the young man nodded with a smile and thoughtfully closed the door for the other party.

So easy to cheat!

The young man turned around with an irrepressible smile on his face.

AI-synthesized voices are so realistic that they can easily be mistaken for real people, and detailed information about a person can be easily found on social networks.

With just a few words, they could easily obtain money from these elderly people.

It's even easier than drug trafficking!
"What I'm doing is helping the country to make its pension funds more accessible."

Perhaps before long, I too will be able to rise to a leadership position within the organization, or even become a person of high standing?
As he mocked himself, the young man pushed open the gate to the courtyard and bumped into an old man walking his dog.

"Woof woof woof!!"

The old man's Shar Pei barked angrily at the young man, startling him.

"Ah, sorry."

The elderly man tugged at the reins and spoke apologetically.

"You probably just came from the Inoue house, and my dog ​​thought you were a thief."

"Oh, how could that be?"

The young man carrying the briefcase quickly waved his hand in denial. Although he wasn't a thief, it wasn't exactly a respectable profession either.

"I know, you're a salesman."

"But going to the Inoue family to sell is completely useless."

?

"why is that?"

Having just made a profit, the young man in the suit didn't mind chatting with the old man.

"Alas, because Mrs. Inoue is already 'unable to die'."

"Unfortunate death?!"

The young man in the suit was taken aback.
The so-called "death without cause" is a natural phenomenon in island nations.

In short, due to the effects of an aging population and a declining birth rate, many elderly people are left unattended, and they die at home without anyone noticing. Often, it's only when community workers visit that they discover already decomposed or dissolved bodies.

Elderly people who have almost no social interaction are privately referred to as having no affinity; and those who die in this situation are called dying without affinity.

"Hey,"

The old man walking his dog was quite talkative and in good health.

"Mrs. Inoue's husband died long ago, and her only son works away from home and doesn't come back."

"She was rather withdrawn. When she was found last month, her body had already begun to dissolve. It was truly pitiful."

? ? ! !
“Woof woof woof~~~”

The Shar Pei at his feet kept barking at the young man with the briefcase, interrupting the old man's words.

"It seems that Arashimaru has caught your scent. Farewell."

After saying that, the old man led his beloved dog away.

The middle-aged man, who stood frozen in place, had a gloomy expression.
"wack,"

"I just received the money from that Mrs. Inoue, who said she was going to die last month?"

Despite saying that, the middle-aged man still felt uneasy, so he simply opened his briefcase and took out an envelope filled with ten thousand yuan in banknotes.
? !
There were no banknotes in the envelope; it was completely empty!

It was as shriveled and thin as an old woman's hand.

A chill ran down his spine and into his head, causing the young man to sway.

impossible!
How could this be? I clearly saw it just now.
Turning around abruptly, my gaze passed over the wall, and what came into view was:

The wall is covered with a "Looking for Tenants" rental advertisement, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see an empty room!

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh~~"

He stumbled and ran wildly into the park, took off his suit jacket, and placed his briefcase beside him.

The young man plopped down on the bench, wiping the cold sweat from his brow; his parted hair was now a tangled mess. He pulled out his phone, reported the situation to his 'company,' and received a prompt response.

"Ah, indeed."

"Everyone who lived there is dead."

The 'company' member in charge of intelligence laughed and said something carefree.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I made a mistake."

"But...but I really did receive the money!"

The young man, whose face was pale, tightened his collar. Despite the bright sunshine overhead and his body being drenched in sweat, he felt a strange chill.

"Although when the check-up came later, both the money and the person were gone."

"Oh my god, that's scary!"

The 'colleague' on the other end of the phone only gave a perfunctory answer.

"That's settled then. I'll let you know if there's a new job opportunity."

After saying that, the other party hung up the phone directly.

"What are you doing?"

The young man put down his phone, his face growing increasingly grim.

Was he hallucinating?
Beep beep beep

Just then, my phone rang with a call notification.

I picked it up and saw that the caller ID showed:

'Inoue'?
Our organization is incorrect. Does the company have anyone with that surname?
Swipe your thumb across the answer button and place the phone to your ear.

"Hello."

"How is my son?"

An old voice rang in his ears, causing the young man to stand up abruptly.

This is? !
That old lady's voice just now!

The young man, his pupils contracting violently as he pressed his thumb hard on the red hang-up button and broke out in a cold sweat.

Impossible! Impossible! This world operates on science!

That's all for today.

The young man, his mind in turmoil, picked up his suit jacket and briefcase and headed towards his apartment.

Ok?
Upon arriving at my apartment, I found a letter stuck in the door.

The young man picked up the envelope, glanced at the sender's name, and froze.

Inoue——

Tear, tear, tear!
Overwhelmed by terror, he instinctively tore the envelope to shreds.

He quickly pulled out his keys, opened the door, and rushed into the apartment. The familiar surroundings gave him a sense of security, and he leaned against the door, panting.

ghost?
Evil spirit?

What else.
Ding-dong

The doorbell rang suddenly in my ear.
The young man, who was already in a state of fear, shuddered and looked away.

On the doorbell monitor, a hunched figure could be seen faintly, along with the same phrase that kept repeating itself.

"How is my son?"

Bang!
Rushing into the kitchen,
He pulled out a hammer and slammed it heavily onto the doorbell display.

Before the young man could catch his breath, the landline in the living room rang automatically:

"How is my son?"

He rushed over and pulled the phone line, but the call continued from outside the door, that aged, questioning voice just like the murmur when the other person handed over the money.

"How is my son?"

"Ah ah ah ah ah!"

"Please, please, let me go—!!"

Edogawa Ward,

As one of the three lowest-earning areas in Tokyo

Like Adachi Ward and Itabashi Ward, this place is considered a complete 'countryside' by Tokyoites.

If someone asks which district you're from, and you answer with these areas, even the most composed Japanese, while maintaining a composed expression, can't help but think to themselves: "What kind of 'town dweller' dares to claim to live in Tokyo?"

The residents living here can only praise the fresh air and beautiful scenery.
In a detached house also built in the 1980s, middle-aged and elderly people with gray hair and cigarettes are watching television.

Ding ding ding,

The mobile phone rang.

He picked up the phone, and the voice on the other end was:

"son?"

"What are you doing? You haven't contacted home at all. I'm really worried about you!"

The familiar voice made the old man put down his cigarette, and the weak voice on the other end made him realize that something was wrong.

"What's wrong with your voice? You look terrible."

"Yes, because I fell ill."

A weak reply came from the other end of the phone.

"Well, let's not worry about that for now. Here's the thing, I haven't told you before."

"Actually, I was fired by the company a long time ago,"

Living in Tokyo is not easy.

Countless young people from island nations want to come to Tokyo to pursue their 'dreams,' and even locals are flocking to the 'core six wards.'

However, the economically developed Minato Ward, the Chuo Ward filled with large corporations, the Chiyoda Ward teeming with bureaucrats, the Bunkyo Ward teeming with schools, or even the entertainment districts of Shinjuku and Shibuya—how could ordinary people possibly afford to live in these places?

"Because I had no money, I got involved in scams."

Upon hearing their son's weak words, the middle-aged and elderly man suddenly stood up.

"Fraud?!"

"What are you doing, you silly boy! How much have you been scammed out of?"

"How dare you take advantage of someone in distress! You deserve to die! If you need money, come talk to me—"

"No, Dad."

The voice on the other end of the phone grew increasingly weak.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't the one who got scammed, I'm the scammer."

犯！
Next second,
An old voice suddenly came through the phone.

"How is my son?"

???

"Hey, you idiot!"

"Are you alright? Answer me!"

The anxious voice of his elderly father came from afar through the drooping microphone, but the young man, with the telephone cord wrapped tightly around his neck and hanging in the room, had lost the strength to answer.

(End of this chapter)