Tokyo: The life of a literary giant begins with home self-defense!

Chapter 63: Protecting the Present

"You want me to copy?"

Looking at Yoshimura Shunichi's excited eyes, Tanaka Koizumi knew what was going on.

The short and fat man looked back at the scholars over there and shook his head.

Japan's copyright law is comprehensive, and Shinchosha must have taken relevant protection measures for Ryukawa Toru's manuscript the moment he signed the contract. It would be suicidal for him to reprint "Snow Country".

"No way."

Looking at the authors, with whom he could not even communicate, talking about a country boy, Yoshimura sighed with regret.

"No chance, let's go."

Tanaka Koizumi is a million-selling author but he is not a fool. He would never do something that would destroy his future.

"Tanaka, remember to pay the money."

"Okay, please recommend your manuscript to Editor-in-Chief Muroan for me next time."

It was clearly me who treated everyone to the meal, but I had to leave with a smile on my face.

After rejecting several hostesses who came to escort him out of hypocritical sincerity, Tanaka Koizumi walked out of this high-end private club.

This kind of place where guests drink and chat is called Snaku, and the more advanced one is called Kurabu.

These are places where people simply drink and chat, and the ladies mainly rely on their verbal skills to chat with the guests to make them happy. Although they are non-pornographic places, if the guests are attractive enough, there will be women to accompany them.

But Tanaka Koizumi never did that once.

After walking out of the door of the Standard Silver Dance Club, Tanaka Koizumi sighed.

The treatment he receives here is basically the same as the treatment he receives in the literary world.

Japan has never lacked stories about talented men of letters and prostitutes, but it is difficult for an ordinary novelist to be regarded as a guest of honor by those elegantly-spoken hostesses.

Not as good as the best but better than the worst, looking at the Ginza with lights just coming on, Tanaka Koizumi sighed again.

"Hey, Tanaka, look."

Not having enough to drink in the club, Yoshimura Shunichi went to the convenience store nearby to buy a beer. When he came back, he had a magazine in his hand.

"Huh? Trendy? Why did you buy this? Drink less and don't make my house dirty like you did yesterday."

Tanaka Koizumi complained and then took the magazine from the other person.

"A new look, a new genre, a new literature?"

"Shincho" was just published today, and Tanaka Koizumi has not yet purchased it, but the reviews on the first page of the first edition stunned the man.

"Tsk tsk," Yoshimura Shunichi took a sip of beer and looked at the comments on the page in amazement, "If what this person said is really so impressive, I'm afraid that kid will be called the founder of the sect in the future."

The whole article was full of praise for Ryukawa Toru, and Tanaka Koizumi's brows were getting deeper and deeper.

"Why won't you give me a little? Why won't you give me a little?"

Tanaka Koizumi was desperately flipping through the white pages, and the bloodshot in his pupils was becoming redder and redder.

"Genius writer"

“Like a dragon and a tiger”

“Unique”

“Carrying on the past and opening up the future”

Each word turned into steel needles that pierced into Tanaka Koizumi's mind. The surging crowd nearby seemed to drown him. He seemed to hear the group of writers in the club who had just left laughing loudly at his overestimation of his abilities, and seemed to see the manuscripts he had submitted being thrown into the trash can.

The women's laughter, the editor's scolding, and the way the writers reminded him not to forget to pay when he was leaving.

In the end, they all turned into the face of the young man who opened the door and ignored him.

"Seeing a dragon in the wild? Do you think you can become an excellent writer just by writing well?"

With a sizzling sound, Tanaka Koizumi tore open the latest edition of "Shincho". His eyes were red, and he was obviously still dissatisfied with Ryukawa Toru for being able to easily obtain what he desired.

The short and fat Tanaka Koizumi stood on the street with a gloomy face. Most of the people around him were holding the newly published "Shincho" magazine.

Tokyo has a strong literary atmosphere, and Shinchosha's magazines seem to be more popular than those in Yamanashi.

The man was silent for a long time, and finally stopped a taxi to Kodansha.

Kodansha’s business operations played an important role in his becoming a best-selling novelist.

"If Ono Taro can praise you, I can destroy you." Tanaka Koizumi with small eyes smiled fiercely.

What he was thinking at this moment was whether that arrogant lady would come to him for help if Longchuan Che got into big trouble.

After all, they live together and their relationship seems
pretty good?
The drizzle hit the khaki walls, and a little warm yellow light leaked out from the open lobby.

Silver snakes were jumping in the distance. The two people who were considered to have a very good relationship by Tanaka Koizumi were now half-kneeling in front of the other.

The hound next door was driven out by the somewhat shy Mrs. Takeda, while Ryukawa sat on a chair in front of the dining table waiting for something.

"I, I'll measure it for you, and you'll give me the fan back?"

A black coat is worn over the purple silk dress, and the slightly opened purple coat reveals a piece of black lace.

Takeda Takako blushed, and felt the drum in her heart was louder than the thunder in the sky. "What are you thinking about?"

Longchuan Che opened his fan, casting a shadow over the woman.

"I'm just giving you a chance to redeem the fan. Once you have collected enough money, you can get the fan back from me."

The room was bright, but there was a lack of light below.

The left side of her cheek felt hot, and Takeda Takako swallowed dryly before speaking.

"That's not fair."

"What's unfair?"

"Your mother only left you eight million, and my fan is worth forty million."

"So it's a mortgage, a mortgage, ma'am. If I give you the fan, you will definitely run away."

Longchuan Che reached his hand under the table and rubbed the woman's smooth face.

The bottom line will be lowered step by step.

Two weeks ago, Mrs. Takeda was very resistant.

But under the pressure of survival and after having drained all the chips he had on him, he quietly lay under the table.

She is still a little shy and dares not see the light.

But it doesn’t matter, you’ll get used to it after a while.

Money is as important as emotional value.

The more high and mighty they are, the more they should be made to fall.

The more those who bullied you, the more humiliation you will experience.

"Ryukawa Tetsu, this is how life goes."

The boy opened his paper fan, wondering if he was speaking to the dead person.

Some are weak, some are cunning.

Two personalities under one skin.

Longchuan Che could clearly remember the scene of the two women bossing him around. Since the other party was unwilling to leave, then
"Let's take a look at the three-centimeter one first."

Long Chuan Che looked at the sacred mountain outside the window and pursed his red lips slightly.

Under the dark table, Takeda Takako's face was reddening terribly.

The touch next to her made her heart tremble, and she didn't know if her decision was the right one.

Agreeing to the other party's request will give you a chance to redeem the fan?

No matter how you think about it, it's your own fault.

"Three centimeters."

The voice came from above, and Takeda Takako suddenly felt a little regretful.

"wait wait wait."

"What's wrong? But you proposed it yourself." Long Chuan Che raised his eyebrows.

"You, you can't tell Xiao Qian." Takeda Takako pinched the three-centimeter position and turned her face away. To some extent, Ryukawa Toru also had a handle in her hand.

"I'm sick, I told her."

Long Che rolled his eyes.

The room was brightly lit, with only a figure in front swaying slightly.

In the deserted night, only Longchuan Tetsu and the other person were there.

"Also, you can't always ask me to do this kind of thing."

"depend on mood."

"Look, it depends on the mood?"

Takeda Takako's lips trembled. She was so embarrassed by the other person's breath that if she couldn't see anything now, she would have probably run away.

"If you live under someone else's roof, you should be aware of what you are doing. If you say one more word, I will regret it. Madam, you don't want to sleep on the streets with your daughter, do you?" Longchuan Che expressed his impatience appropriately.

There was a long silence under the table.

After a while, Takeda Takako, somewhat distracted, moved her gentle face closer.

The touch of her face was smooth. Long Chuan pinched the handle of the fan and inserted his fingers into his hair.

While he was waiting for the other party's next move.

"How do I do this?"

The woman ignored the warning and spoke again with a crying voice.

(End of this chapter)