Tokyo: I'm really not a killer

The man in the jacket, reeking of alcohol, came downstairs, staggered across the shopping street, and entered a pub he frequented. He told the madam, "The usual."

"It's been a long time since Miura-kun came," the madam greeted him with a smile.

Miura is the surname of the man in the jacket; his full name is Miura Tomo.

"I can't help it, I've been busy with work lately," Miura Tomo said.

"You've got some free time tonight, why don't you have a couple more drinks?" the madam urged.

"No, I have other things to do later. I just remembered some old times, so I came for a drink." Miura Tomo sighed, "As people get older, they just like to reminisce about the past."

"No, Miura-kun is still very young," the madam said.

Miura Tomo smiled, found a booth to sit down, and while the madam served the drinks, he took out a folded personal information sheet from his pocket and murmured with emotion:

"It's an old almanac that's been around for so many years."

Miura Tomo was a lathe operator before he met someone in the industry through business, and the two became partners by chance.

They worked together for seven years. Miura was in charge of logistics, while his partner was responsible for eliminating targets. The two worked together seamlessly and once reached the top in the industry.

They had agreed that if one of them got into trouble and was kidnapped, the other should not hesitate to either silence the other or escape.

Until four years ago, his partner suddenly called and said that he was being watched by the police and might be captured alive, so he told Miura to run away immediately.

As agreed, Miura Tomo left Tokyo alone, and there was no news of his partner afterward; he was never seen again, neither alive nor dead.

Once the storm had passed, Miura Tomohisa changed his name and returned to the city.

After making inquiries, he learned from others that the person the police were actually targeting was him.

His partner received advance warning and, to cover his escape, engaged in a shootout with the police on the street, killing three detectives and drawing police forces to surround the area. He then called to inform him to leave Tokyo.

This matter became a deep knot in Miura Tomokazu's heart.

At this moment, he sipped sake alone, his eyes blurry with drunkenness, and he recalled his partner saying: "Killing people who have never seen blood is boring"... The man who came to collect the money tonight reminded him of an old friend.

"Is that you?"

Miura Tomo murmured to himself, "Are you still alive?"

If the assassination of Kuwata Kenkichi is successful, that nobody will become a legend in Tokyo's underworld overnight.

If not, then he is not the person I'm looking for.

……

It was almost 11 p.m., just before the clock struck midnight, when Yuan Zhensheng finally found a suitable rental apartment.

Normally, it might take seven or eight days to find one. He secretly exclaimed how lucky he was tonight; he had not only received an order but also found a temporary base and met a beautiful woman who matched his aesthetic.

"This is a gift of money and a cash gift; please accept it," Yuan Zhensheng said, standing at the apartment door.

Outside the door is a railinged corridor with views of the street below. This is currently the most common apartment layout. There is also an emergency fire escape on the side.

"Ah, then I won't stand on ceremony. Please take care of me in the future."

The landlady was a woman wearing a light yellow dress named Komi Yui. She looked very young, in her early twenties, and was much taller than average, about 1.77 meters. Wearing flat shoes, she was only half a hand shorter than Hara Masaki.

She had delicate features and a voluptuous figure. The fabric of her long dress was stretched slightly tight, especially her exceptionally full breasts, which swayed gently with her bowing movements. She exuded an intellectual charm.

There's a reason why Yuan Zhensheng chose to rent a place here.

First, the railinged veranda allows for observation of the outside environment, and the fire escape provides easy access; second, the landlord doesn't check employment certificates or specific identities, and the monthly rent is within a reasonable range; finally, and most importantly…

The landlord, Komi Yui, is blind.

She held a guide cane in her left hand and opened her right palm upwards, waiting for Yuan Zhensheng to hand her the money.

"Please give me your guidance." Yuan Zhensheng placed the money in her hand.

Komi Yui put the money into her long skirt pocket, then took out a long bunch of keys, muttering, "Uh... let me see... which room is it..."

Good heavens, a landlady!

With so many keys, this whole floor... no, this whole building might all be her houses.

"Aren't you going to count the money?" Yuan Zhensheng asked.

"No need, I trust Mr. Suzuki." Komi Yui smiled gently, her fingers stroking each key, each engraved with a room number.

Suzuki Shinya is a pseudonym of Hara Masaki.

Out of caution, Hara Masaki tentatively asked, "Generally speaking, people who are unwilling to provide proof of employment are suspicious, right? Why would Ms. Komi believe me?"

Komi Yui found the key, unlocked the keychain, and said softly, "Everyone encounters difficulties at times. I hope to provide a place for those who are in trouble to rest, that's all."

Yuan Zhensheng sensed something was wrong: "Uh, so... my neighbors are all tenants without identification?"

"It's because everyone has this prejudice that Mr. Suzuki can't find a place to rent."

Kojima Yui paused for a moment, then extended the key to Hara Masaki: "There should be more trust between people."

Ah, what a magnanimous heart!

Yuan Zhensheng couldn't trust strangers. He took the key, turned the lock, and casually asked, "Aren't you worried about your personal safety?"

"The fact that you would ask such a question shows that Mr. Suzuki is a kind person... Don't worry, I will take good care of myself."

After saying that, Koji bowed slightly, said "Goodnight" softly, and politely took his leave.

After exchanging a few polite words, and as Komi Yui turned around and started walking forward, pointing with her guide cane, he suddenly called out, "Miss Komi!"

"Um?"

The instant Komi Yui turned around, Hara Masaki pulled out a key and thrust it straight at her eyes—at the last second, the tip of the key hovered, only three millimeters from her pupil.

Koji Yui's eyes were hazy and unfocused. She neither flinched nor blinked, and asked with a puzzled look, "What's wrong?"

"I almost forgot, where do I pay my water and electricity bills?" Yuan Zhensheng took back the key.

Normal tenants are linked to bank accounts, and payments are automatically deducted by TEPCO meter readers. However, since he doesn't have identification, he can't use the "Household Registration Form" to link his bank card.

Komi Yui patiently explained, "The Lawson convenience store downstairs can pay for you. Remember to bring your payment receipt (the payment notice with a barcode)... I live next door, so feel free to ask me anytime if you have any questions about renting."

"Ah, I see, thank you." Yuan Zhensheng was finally relieved.

After Komi Yui left, he went into his new home, which was a completely bare house with no furniture. He had to buy all the furniture himself. This is also why most Japanese people later slept in futons. Buying a bed is expensive and moving is troublesome.

With the economy booming, Japanese people sleep in beds. In Tokyo Love Story, Rika Akana and Kanji both have beds in their homes. They just throw away furniture they can't take with them, since they have plenty of money.

Yuan Zhensheng hid the money under the sink, took 200,000 yen in cash, went downstairs to the convenience store to buy black blackout stickers, and sealed the windows of the house tightly.

Finally, I have a proper place to settle down.

Midnight is the busiest time; the adults' nightlife is just beginning. Genji quickly tidied himself up and planned to go to an izakaya (Japanese pub) to gather information.

To be honest, gathering information is his weakness.

As a professional assassin, one should not be exposed to the public for long periods of time. In his previous life, he had a logistics team responsible for providing intelligence, and he knew everything about the target's address, living habits, social relationships, etc.

If only I could know an information broker...