The story begins with an eight-foot-tall lady surrounded by ghost story ladies.

Natsume Fanyu had to compose himself, then changed his tone and asked directly:

"What if I don't agree?"

Rin Jinguji remained silent for longer than ever before.

"If you don't agree..." she said.

"The fetal spirit is still the karma of the Jinguji family, and I will bear it myself."

"Can you handle it?"

"Even if you can't bear it, you have to bear it."

She said this without any hesitation.

That's the kind of resolve only a woman who grew up in the yakuza world and has seen life and death so often would have.

Natsume Fanyu looked at her for a long time before speaking:

"Don't worry, Miss Jinguji."

"I will discuss this matter with Mrs. Saya."

"Besides..."

"You can't make any decisions on behalf of the Jinguji family in this matter, can you?"

"After all, in this matter..."

"You may be the eldest daughter of the Jinguji family, but you are more of a bargaining chip."

"Of course, it's not just you."

Natsume Fanyu's voice continued, unhurriedly, word by word.

"Your entire Jinguji family is one of them."

The room fell silent.

Rin Jinguji's posture remained unchanged, but her eyes had changed.

The disheveled look that only appears after being seen through was spreading visibly in those phoenix eyes.

That wall she spent twenty years building, constructed from her identity as the "eldest daughter of the Jinguji family"...

At that moment, it was gently poked with a finger and a hole was shattered.

As Natsume Bonyu said.

Although she is the high and mighty eldest daughter of the Jinguji family, in this matter, she is more of a bargaining chip.

Bargaining chips.

Between these two words lies an equal sign that Jinguji Rin never dared to look directly at.

She wanted to deny it, but the words caught in her throat.

Because Natsume Fanyu was looking at her.

It wasn't a condescending look down on me, nor was it a pitying gaze.

Instead, it was a calm gaze awaiting her rebuttal.

He was watching to see if she dared to argue back.

Rin Jinguji remained silent for a long time before finally speaking:

"you..."

Her voice was low and hoarse, like a lock that hadn't been oiled in a long time being forcibly turned open by a key.

"you're right."

"I am the bargaining chip."

"The Jinguji family is also a bargaining chip."

Speaking of it.

Rin Jinguji raised her eyes again and looked straight at Bonyu Natsume once more.

In those phoenix eyes, the twenty-year-old girl who had been revealed after the wall was pierced was slowly retreating.

It's like someone who has finally admitted they're standing on the edge of a cliff and decided not to back down anymore.

"So, Mr. Natsume..."

How will you use this chip?

Natsume Fanyu looked at her, watching the changes taking place in her phoenix eyes.

The wall was broken, but the broken bricks and stones were not cleaned up; instead, they were remelted and cast into another shape.

It's no longer a barrier that surrounds you, but a game of cards laid out face up on the table.

He suddenly realized that this twenty-year-old yakuza heiress was more interesting than her widowed adoptive mother.

Jinguji Saya's method is subtle and persuasive; she turns herself into a bargaining chip while making you believe she isn't.

Rin Jinguji's approach was exactly the opposite.

She directly admitted that she was the bargaining chip, and then threw the question back at you.

How would you use it?

"I will make the most of it."

Natsume Fanyu said.

Six words, spoken in the same flat tone as before.

But Rin Jinguji sensed something very subtle in those six words.

It's not a threat, not a promise, but a confirmation that "I accept it."

Like an appraiser who takes the item you hand over, examines it from all angles, nods, and puts it in his pocket.

I won't praise your stuff as good, nor will I criticize it as bad.

I simply accepted it.

Rin Jinguji stared at him for a long time.

Then she stood up, and the dark blue belt tightened slightly with her movement, accentuating her narrow waist.

Her waist had been bound so tightly for so long that everyone who saw it couldn't help but wonder what it would look like when it was loosened.

She walked to the door, turned around in the entryway, and spoke again:

"Mr. Natsume."

"Um?"

"That tooth mark..."

She paused for a moment, and the red on the tips of her ears, which had not yet completely faded, became vibrant again at that moment.

"Next time, tell her to be gentler."

After saying that...

Without waiting for Natsume Bon's reply, Jinguji Rin turned around and pushed open the door.

However, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and did not leave.

It wasn't because I didn't want to leave, but because someone was coming up the stairs outside the door.

Ayano Matsushita.

Her light blue loungewear draped lazily over her mature, almost unrestrained, body.

The curve that started below her collarbone was faithfully outlined by the soft fabric of her loungewear, undulating gently with her steps as she went upstairs.

It's like something that's barely restrained by fabric, yet ready to overflow at any moment.

Her hair was casually tied back, and her face was as clean as a glass of lukewarm water.

But it is precisely this simplicity that makes her unique charm as a mature woman even more apparent.

It's not a vibrant color achieved through sheer application; it's a natural radiance that seeps from beneath the skin, from the depths of the bone structure, and from the sedimentation of over thirty years.

She had just reached the corner of the stairs, carrying a small casserole dish in her hand.

It was pork broth that had been simmering all night, and the aroma of miso mixed with the fat of the pork belly wafted up the stairs.

At the same time, he was muttering to himself, probably silently chanting "Don't spill it, don't spill it."

Then, the sound of the door opening was heard.

The landlady looked up.

He met the gaze of Jinguji Rin, who was walking out of the door.

Their eyes met in the morning light.

Matsushita Ayano stopped in her tracks.

She recognized the woman immediately.

Yesterday afternoon, the yakuza heiress barged into this apartment building with a dozen or so men in black suits.

The only daughter of the Jinguji family.

At this moment, the heiress of the Yakuza was standing at the door of Natsume Fanyu's room.

I came out from inside in the early morning.

Matsushita Ayano's gaze slowly moved down from Jinguji Rin's face.

She visited dressed in a light blue outfit, her attire dignified, neat, and meticulous, a stark contrast to the old apartment building.

It's like a bellflower that's been mistakenly placed in a cheap vase.

But what caught Matsushita Ayano's eye was not the kimono.

It was the touch of red on the tip of Jinguji Rin's ear that hadn't had time to fade.

Ayano Matsushita recognized that shade of red.

Because yesterday afternoon, when she swayed on Natsume Fanyu's lap.

The tips of her ears were also this color.

It's just that the red is even more intense and vibrant!

Matsushita Ayano looked at the red mark on Jinguji Rin's earlobe and her fingers holding the casserole pot tightened slightly.

Could it be...?

In that instant, her brain automatically generated an image.