I have an unlimited number of shikigami

This is the fourth floor. The elevator went up and stopped on the fourth floor. The moment the doors opened, everyone and even the monsters were stunned. This included Fujiwara Izaya, Kawashima Miki, and a group of bald, burly men who were in the elevator preparing to go to the eighth floor.

This scene...

The bald men couldn't help but scratch their bald heads.

Their former sister-in-law was being carried in the arms of a shirtless child while waiting for the elevator, seemingly heading to the ninth floor.

"Excuse me, please make way." Fujiwara Izaya greeted politely, squeezed into the elevator, and then said to the bald man closest to the elevator, "Could you please press the button for the ninth floor for me? Thank you."

Bald man: "..."

Kawashima Miki: "..."

The elevator moved smoothly upwards, creating an eerily unsettling atmosphere.

The bald men whispered among themselves, frequently glancing at their ex-sister-in-law, who seemed to have found a new man.

Feeling utterly ashamed, Kawashima Miki buried her face in Fujiwara Izaya's arms. At that moment, she had only one thought in her mind: It's over, it's all over. Things have become so strange, people will definitely gossip behind her back about her being a slutty widow or something.

"By the way, Madam, I have a question." Fujiwara Izaya, ever the opportunist, asked loudly, "Are all these bald uncles members of Madam's husband's gang?"

This question silenced everyone except him.

"Don't worry, uncles," Fujiwara Izaya turned his head, his gaze sweeping over each bald head, and said sincerely, "Please tell him when you pay your respects to Mr. Araki at the Obon Festival that he can rest in peace. I will take good care of your sister-in-law."

For an instant.

All the bald, burly men's mouths were agape in an "O" shape.

"Heh, heh heh..."

Instead of being angry, Kawashima Miki laughed, a cold laugh that came from despair for the entire world.

"Ding-dong~"

The elevator stopped on the eighth floor.

The door had barely opened a crack when I heard someone talking loudly outside.

"Keep your spirits up tonight. This matter must be handled perfectly for my sister-in-law. If there's even the slightest mistake, I'll hang you all on the Tokyo Tower to dry tomorrow morning... huh?"

Araki Jiro looked at the elevator door and suddenly frowned.

"Hello," Fujiwara Izaya greeted with a smile.

Although I didn't know this person, his eyes looked so hurt that it evoked deep sympathy.

"Fujiwara," Kawashima Miki pleaded softly, covering her face, "Just kill me..."

A familiar voice came from inside, and Jiro Araki rubbed his eyes.

This guy looks familiar, isn't he Fujiwara Izaya?

The woman he's holding looks familiar; she must be his sister-in-law.

The two of them...

impossible!

Absolutely impossible!

“No,” Araki Jiro shook his head and laughed, “It’s an illusion. It can’t scare me. It must be an illusion.”

The bald, burly men in the elevator slowly stepped out. The last one gently patted Araki Jiro on the shoulder and comforted him, "Jiro, be strong!"

The elevator doors slowly closed, ascending to the ninth floor.

Araki Jiro stood there stunned for a long time.

At that moment, he felt like a dog on the street who was suddenly kicked by a stranger.

Ninth floor.

Once the elevator doors open, there's a thick, burglarproof iron door right there.

Kawashima Miki lifted her head from Fujiwara Izaya's arms, and Tong Kong pointed at the camera on the door lock.

"Cut!"

The mechanical sound of the lock cylinder turning echoed through the air.

Upon opening the door, one finds a very large entryway with a shoe cabinet door that is a full 1.5 meters tall. Before Fujiwara Izaya are rows and rows of colorful women's shoes: all kinds of high heels, platform shoes, wedge sandals, snow boots, and casual shoes. There are styles and brands for all seasons, and a rough count reveals that there are nearly a hundred pairs.

Fujiwara Izaya was stunned for a moment, wondering if she was a shoe fanatic, or a rich woman with a collecting or shopping addiction.

"Hello, you've put it down!" Kawashima Miki called out weakly.

She was exhausted and didn't want to think about anything anymore. She just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. Even if the sky fell, she would leave it for tomorrow.

"Where is your room?" Fujiwara Izaya asked.

Kawashima Miki, like a patient waiting to die, looked unfocusedly down the right-hand corridor: "Go straight here and enter the rest area through the third door."

"Your house is so big."

As Fujiwara Izaya walked, he curiously looked around the corridor.

The first entrance leads to a large indoor swimming pool; the second entrance leads to what appears to be an entire gym; and the third entrance leads to an exceptionally luxurious suite.

Do you want to take a shower?

"I won't wash it..."

"Should I just carry you into the room?"

"Okay... wait, you're not allowed to come in."

"Don't worry, I'll be very well-behaved tonight." Fujiwara Izaya put her on the bed in the room, smiled gently, and then used his five fingers to loosen the bun on her head, ruffling her hair into a messy shape.

"Good night," he said.

Kawashima Miki collapsed into the bed as if she were dead, too exhausted to even lift her head to look at him.

After he left the room and gently closed the door, she turned over, buried her face in the pillow, and tears streamed down her face. She even felt her cheeks were cold, so she had to turn the pillow over again.

But soon, this side was also soaked.

Damn it, damn it... Kawashima Miki felt extremely wronged, her mind was blank, and she couldn't think of anything.

As he slipped out of the room, Fujiwara Izaya checked his watch; it was nearly midnight.

Not sleepy yet, he wandered around the spacious mansion. In the walk-in closet, he found a mountain of fashionable clothes belonging to Kawashima Miki. Next door, there was a separate compartment for bags, where he could find more than a dozen different sizes of various luxury brands, comparable to a boutique.

The dressing room was also filled with a dazzling array of cosmetics and skincare products, but Fujiwara Rin didn't understand them and just glanced at them before leaving. He went to the study, took out a copy of "The Republic," went into the kitchen refrigerator, grabbed a can of ice-cold beer, and went to the balcony to drink and read.

The spacious balcony has a large area dedicated to growing succulents, as well as several pots of cherry tomatoes. Both the succulents and tomatoes are very well cared for.

Fujiwara Izaya drank his beer and stared at the succulents for a long time.

In a daze, I seemed to see Kawashima Miki squatting here, carefully trimming with scissors.

Is she a woman who loves life?

Fujiwara Rin was amused by this idea and read a book while drinking beer.

Directly in front of the balcony, the majestic tower of the Tokyo Skytree glowed with iridescent colors in the darkness. To the left was the brightly lit Taito Ward, and to the right, the much more secluded Arakawa Ward. Headlights converged into a dazzling river of light, flowing through the streets. When a long-haul truck rumbled past, its enormous roar seemed to vibrate the air with a heavy tremor.

At three in the morning, Fujiwara Rin fell asleep on the sofa.

When he woke up, it was already slightly bright outside. He went into the kitchen to rinse his mouth with water, then boiled water and made himself a cup of instant coffee. As he drank it, he looked for a pen and a note in the room and wrote on it, "Thank you for your hospitality, madam. I'll come again next time."

After writing it down, Fujiwara Izaya took the note and went into Kawashima Miki's room.

She slept with her back to the door, her breathing extremely shallow. Her long, black hair, like spilled ink, spread out on the white pillow. Upon closer inspection, one could even see traces of tears that hadn't completely dried at the corners of her eyes, and a few eyelashes stuck tightly together.

Fujiwara Izaya stuck the note on her face, then turned and left.

A few seconds later, he slipped back into the room, stuck on another note that read, "My sleeping wife is so cute," took out his phone, pointed it at her face with the two notes stuck on it, and snapped a picture before leaving, satisfied.

At six o'clock in the morning, there were few people on the streets, except for the early-rising crows, who as usual perched on the rooftops around the eaves.

Fujiwara Izaya calculated the distance and decided to start from Yoshiwara and run back to Asakusa.

At 6:20, as he passed by the [Lemon] bakery, which was already open for business, Yukino Riho was sitting behind the counter reading a book. When she saw him running over, she raised her hand and greeted him: "Good morning."

"Good morning."

Fujiwara Izaya responded and continued running forward.

At 6:25, after passing through the torii gate, a scene of ruins came into view.

There wasn't a single intact building left in the entire shrine, not even a single wall or pillar to stand on. Fujiwara Izaya wasn't surprised at all; he even leisurely took out his phone to take pictures and sent them to Kawashima Miki.

"Madam, my house is gone! You have to compensate me!"

Chapter 76. Even the fingertips have a beautiful color.

Lemon Bakery.

A small blue shop door, a blue women's bicycle, a white plastic frame on the back seat, and a lazy orange cat lying asleep inside, seemingly out of nowhere.

Fujiwara Izaya pushed open the door and walked in, and the first thing he saw was Yukino Riho.

She sat by the window, in a sunny spot, reading. She wore a thin hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans, and faded canvas shoes that looked like they'd been washed countless times. She looked like a college freshman, but her delicate oval face still retained the youthful innocence of a high school student. Her hair was straight and black, and she wore almost no makeup or accessories.

She was so engrossed in her book that her eyes hardly left the pages. Only when she heard "Miss Yukino" calling out to her did she use a bookmark to secure the book and look up.

A high school student, dressed in a neat uniform and looking like a well-behaved child, was smiling at her.

For no apparent reason, Yukino Riho found him pleasing to the eye, and couldn't help but smile as well: "Is there something you need?"

"Do you have any cardboard boxes? Can I borrow a few?" Fujiwara Izaya asked her, leaning against the shop door.

"Yes, please wait a moment." Yukino Riho left her seat, retrieved two neatly folded cardboard boxes and a roll of tape from the storage room, and handed them to him, asking casually, "What do you need these for?"

"For packing luggage." Fujiwara Izaya took the cardboard box and tape.

Yukino Riho frowned slightly: "You're moving?"

"No, but my home is gone, so I need to find a place to stay for the time being."

"Your home is gone?"

"Yeah, it got smashed overnight." Fujiwara Izaya shrugged, smiled and said goodbye. "Alright, I'll go back and see if there's anything usable left. See you later."

Bye-bye~