I have an unlimited number of shikigami

Fujiwara Izaya gasped in pain.

His physical body is indeed strong, impervious to bullets and knives, but this level of thigh twisting was just on the verge of triggering his body's muscle protective functions, making it difficult to withstand.

Kawashima Miki raised an eyebrow and gave him a provocative smile.

You're dead... Fujiwara Izaya simply reached both hands under the table and placed them on Kawashima Misaki's plump thighs, groping her all over.

"Ok!"

Kawashima Miki shrank back, her chest heaving slightly.

Something's not right about these two... Kasahara Fukari looked at them with suspicion, about to speak.

At that moment, Kawashima Miki suddenly shifted her leg, then placed one leg on Kasahara Fukae's thigh and poked it forcefully.

For a moment, all three of them looked uneasy. At the same time, as if they had planned it, the two women stared at Fujiwara Izaya with the same look they had given him as judges on a case.

Fujiwara Izaya felt a little wronged.

Ms. Kasahara is one thing, but why is Ms. Kawashima doing the same thing? Didn't you start all of this?

Eh...

and many more.

How did Ms. Kasahara know...? Fujiwara Izaya sensed something was wrong and bent down to take a look. At that moment, Kasahara Fukaeri also bent down, and Kawashima Miki withdrew her foot from her leg.

Then, the scene changed to Fujiwara Izaya grabbing and playing with Kawashima Miki's foot, and nothing else happened.

Kawashima Miki spoke first: "He forced me."

After turning the tables on her, she pouted, looking aggrieved, and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“You guys…” Kasahara Fukari looked at the delicate little foot in Fujiwara Izaya’s palm, opened her mouth, and finally said, “I won’t bother you anymore.”

"Hey, I'll take you downstairs."

Fujiwara Izaya stood up and caught up with Kasahara Mieri.

After taking the elevator down to the first floor, while waiting for a taxi at the entrance, Kasahara Fukari looked at the gloomy rain and tightened the two corners of her white shirt with her fingertips, saying, "Kawashima Miki isn't a good person either. Don't be fooled by her."

“I know that.” Fujiwara Izaya looked into her eyes.

As expected, those eyes were beautiful, clear and bright, allowing no impurity.

“She is a very important part of my plan,” Fujiwara Izaya said. “But I assure you, it will be me who changes her, not her who changes me.”

"Ah."

Kasahara Fukari's answer was as concise as ever.

After getting into the taxi, she rolled down the window and said through it, "After joining Section Nine, I won't force you to do anything. But I want to make one thing clear: you're not allowed to act recklessly, including what happened today, and you won't be allowed to do that again!"

"Yes, Madam!"

Fujiwara Izaya raised his hand and saluted her.

Chapter 89. Since they dared to tempt, Kawashima Miki will have to pay the price.

Back on the ninth floor, Kawashima Miki lay on the dining table, her forehead resting on her arms.

The tableware on the table hadn't been cleared away. When Fujiwara Izaya walked over, she was still lying there motionless, her smooth black hair hanging down, covering her face. The thin straps of her bra were faintly visible on the shoulders of her white silk slip dress.

“You were playing with fire just now!” Fujiwara Rinya said from the other side.

Kawashima Miki lay face down, her head bobbing slightly on the table.

"Let me think, is Madam jealous or just putting on an act?" Fujiwara Rinya sat down opposite her.

A full 30 seconds passed before Kawashima Miki slowly raised her head from the table, a few strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, a slight dampness swirling around her.

“Why did you come back?” she said, pretending to take a tissue from the table to blow her nose, and angrily brushing the hair off her cheek with her fingers. “Go with that female officer from Section Nine! What are you doing staying in this filthy place of mine! Bastard!”

“To be honest, female police officers are definitely better,” Fujiwara Izaya said, going along with her words. “Even if they were to go into the adult entertainment industry, the added advantage of being a female police officer or a teacher would command a higher price.”

Kawashima Miki's expression changed; she felt discomfort in her chest again!

It was just a casual remark, but I didn't expect Fujiwara Izaya to actually believe it, and a chill flashed across his face.

"Besides, in Japanese society, there's no future in taking the crooked path." Fujiwara Ryaya looked at her worsening complexion and found it increasingly amusing. "If you get involved in organized crime, gambling, drugs, or prostitution, you can never clear your name. No matter how rich or high-ranking you are, you're just a subordinate of big shots, even lower in status than a top lawyer or doctor. Not only will you not gain public respect, but you'll also be gossiped about and cursed. On the other hand, police officers like Ms. Kasahara, even if they're just low-ranking officers, are respected from the bottom of their hearts."

"..."

Kawashima Miki bit her lower lip and lowered her head.

Finally, she let out a slow, particularly long breath. Perhaps even she felt it was too long, then she whispered, "You look down on me?"

“In terms of status, you are far inferior to Ms. Kasahara,” Fujiwara Izaya said sharply.

“…Then go find her!” Kawashima Miki shrugged slightly.

Feeling a chill on her shoulders, she reached up and tucked her bra strap into her pajamas, her face expressionless.

“I’m not only looking for her, I’m going to be her colleague soon,” Fujiwara Izaya said smugly. “Think about it, I’m not only a priest, but also a police officer, a positive figure who gets paid twice. And you, on the surface you’re a bad woman who runs a brothel, but behind the scenes you’re a yokai who can’t see the light of day. Isn’t that miserable? Like a sewer, dark, damp, and narrow life, oh no, a yokai life.”

Kawashima Miki's expression grew even colder.

His little fists were clenched tightly together, and his nails even dug slightly into his palms.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Fujiwara Izaya's expression was somewhat cold, and his voice was also a bit sarcastic. "Where did you go? As someone who runs a brothel, you shouldn't be so reserved. Come on, keep seducing me. Anyway, it's not the first time, you should be quite skilled."

Kawashima Miki bit her lip, looked up, and stared at him for a long time.

Only after her lower lip was bitten until it bled did she shout, word by word, with hatred, "I hate you, I hate you!"

“You not only hate me,” Fujiwara Izaya said with a smile, “you even want to kill me, but you don’t have the ability.”

"Get out of here!" Kawashima Miki grabbed a plate from the table and smashed it in his face.

Fujiwara Izaya easily dodged it.

Then came the second, the third, until all the plates, cutlery, and other utensils on the table were thrown away. Kawashima Miki suddenly stood up, wiped away her tears, and ran out of the restaurant. A few seconds later, Fujiwara Izaya heard the door slam shut.

This time, she was really angry enough to cry...

Fujiwara Izaya gave a wry smile, grabbed a broom, and swept up the broken dishes from the floor. He opened the refrigerator, drank a large bottle of ice-cold mineral water, stared intently at the label on the refrigerator door for a while, and finally called the front desk on the first floor to have a bouquet of roses sent up.

A large bunch of bright red roses, emitting a fragrance as rich as that of Kawashima Miki.

"Madam, open the door." Fujiwara Izaya knocked on her bedroom door.

no response.

I knocked again, but there was still no response.

Finally, he kicked the door down and went inside.

The May rains poured down relentlessly, and the indoor lighting was dim as the lights were off. Kawashima Miki lay motionless on the pristine white bed, her elegant black hair and pale arms like a severely wounded, dying animal.

Fujiwara Izaya walked over and turned her face towards him.

The roses were brought close to her nose, and his face followed, the various flowers saying to her, "Please accept today's roses, my lady."

"Go away!"

Through the petals, Kawashima Miki looked at him with eyes that seemed about to cry.

"Why does Madam smell so good?" Fujiwara Ryaya climbed on top of her, pulled her into his arms, and asked, "Do you take rose baths every day?"

"No comment!"

Kawashima Miki struggled to speak, her tone as if she were facing an enemy.

“If you’re taking a bath with roses,” Fujiwara Izaya said, pulling out a rose and placing it between their noses, “then does this mean we’re smelling your bathwater?”

Kawashima Miki's lips parted slightly, then immediately returned to their original position.

After forcibly suppressing her laughter, she abruptly raised her arm and pointed to the door: "Get out!"

“I won’t be coming back after I leave,” Fujiwara Izaya said.

Kawashima Miki said resolutely, "Nothing could be better!"

"You'll regret this!"

No regrets!

“Alright,” Fujiwara Izaya released his grip, placed the rose on the table, and shook his head with a hint of regret. “From now on, I can only play with my little spider.”

"..."

Kawashima Miki bit her lip and gasped for breath.

With a "thud," she threw a pillow at Fujiwara Izaya's back, cursed him as an idiot, then buried herself under the covers, tears streaming down her face.

Fujiwara Izaya slipped out of the living room, made a phone call to Inspector Suzuki, and gave him a few instructions. He also asked for the phone number of Priest Yoshihara Yoshitsugu, asking him for a small favor.

The preparations are almost complete; now all that's left is Kawashima Miki.

Back in the bedroom, Fujiwara Izaya lifted the covers, took off his shirt, crawled in, and hugged her from behind.

In the dimly lit room, the rustling sound of clothes being undressed could be heard. Feeling Kawashima Miki's smooth and warm body, Fujiwara Ryaya leaned close to her ear and said, "Is Madam so sentimental?"

Kawashima Miki kept her eyes closed, letting him place his hands on her smooth back.

He didn't speak, didn't resist, and didn't cooperate. He acted as if he were dead, and even his breathing was weaker than ever before.

“There’s nothing wrong with opening a brothel,” Fujiwara Izaya said, holding one of her small hands and raising it to his eyes. “Anyway, I’m a person who’s mortal with gambling and drugs, so you can’t touch them, madam.”

Kawashima Miki closed her eyes and let out a muffled sound in her throat.

On her ring finger was a small silver ring. Fujiwara Izaya stared at it for a while, then peeled the ring off her slender finger and threw it into the trash can next to the bed.

“This is too ugly,” he said. “I’ll send you a nicer one later.”

Kawashima Miki remained silent.

"By the way, what will happen to your wife now?" Fujiwara Izaya asked, leaning on her shoulder. "You made a scene with me today. Will the organization think you've betrayed us and issue an assassination order against you?"

"I don't need you to care if I die!" Kawashima Miki finally spoke.

The dark, damp air, combined with her icy voice, made the atmosphere even more oppressive. Fujiwara Izaya slowly slid one hand down her smooth back, gently stroking it like a feather brushing against her skin.

Kawashima Miki trembled slightly, clenching her fists tightly to endure it.

When that hand touched her rounded buttocks, she let out a groan as if she couldn't take it anymore, then suddenly turned around and pounded Fujiwara Izaya's chest with her fist: "What do you want! Just say what you want, okay? Don't torture me like this, I can't take it anymore..."