...
Seiji's prediction was dead-on.
At that very mont, in her private little paradise piled high with doujinshi and cosplay outfits, Eliza Shimizu was gripping her phone so tightly her hands trembled with rage.
"Scum! Bastard! Devil! Demon!"
She spat out every curse she could think of under her breath. Her usually elegant face was flushed red with fury, and her long, beautiful golden hair had been tugged into a bird's nest.
She wanted nothing more than to smash her phone over that man's head.
But she couldn't.
"AAAAAAAHHHH... !!!"
Eliza grabbed a magical girl body pillow and buried her face in it, letting out a muffled, helpless scream of frustration.
She felt like a butterfly trapped in a web... no matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free from the threads spun by Seiji.
Eventually, she dragged herself off the bed and went to her wardrobe, packed full of cosplay outfits. After a long hesitation, she pulled out one that wasn't too revealing...
...
Eliza Shimizu kept a close eye on Kikuri Hiroi's attempts to quit drinking... supervising her every single day.
And as a price, or rather, as "hush money," she had to fulfill a few special obligations.
For example, sending casual and cosplay "daily photos."
Or saying good morning and good night to him in voice ssages.
Eliza was furious enough to want to crawl through the internet and tear him apart, but she had no choice.
Seiji glanced at the cold period at the end of her latest ssage and began typing swiftly on his phone:
[So you don't feel like sending anything, huh? That's fine. I happen to have so free ti this afternoon. The apartnt you live in... what was it called again...?]
He stopped halfway through the sentence.
That alone was enough to make Eliza completely lose it on the other end of the call.
[I'll send it!!!]
[I'll send it right now!!!]
A flurry of angry texts followed by a photo.
In it, a blonde beauty wore a perfectly tailored combat outfit from a famous ga, her curves accentuated by the tight suit. She flashed a V-sign at the cara, her face twisted in a snarl that could almost bite.
Seiji saved the photo, looking satisfied.
anwhile, Eliza, her anger still boiling over, imdiately redirected her fury toward Kikuri Hiroi.
She called her and launched into a stern, thirty-minute lecture about "the dangers of alcoholism" and "personal responsibility."
The pressure was so intense that even after hanging up, Kikuri was still shaking, wondering if she'd sohow offended her usually gentle and caring friend again.
Elsewhere... Shimokitazawa Academy.
During lunch break, on the rooftop.
Nijika Ijichi sat alone, listlessly poking at her bento.
Ryo walked up with her own lunch and sat down beside her. One glance, and she knew sothing was off.
Nijika was trying to act cheerful, but her forced smile couldn't fool soone as perceptive as Ryo.
"Nijika," Ryo said quietly, making sure no one else was around. "What happened?"
"Eh? N-No, nothing!" Nijika waved her hands frantically, panicking.
Ryo didn't reply. She just looked at her silently.
Under that calm, steady gaze, Nijika's composure crumbled.
"Ryo…"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Ryo!!"
She threw her arms around her, sobbing, and told her everything she'd overheard in halting fragnts.
Ryo listened quietly, gently patting Nijika's back.
When Nijika's sobs finally began to fade, Ryo murmured, "It's okay. Things will work out."
"But… I don't know what to do…" Nijika sniffled.
"Nijika," Ryo said aningfully, "sotis the answer lies with our side of the Snake."
Nijika looked up, her tear-filled eyes wide and uncertain.
She stared at Ryo, unsure if she understood the hidden aning behind her words.
Elsewhere, after finishing a long day at work, PA-san returned to her apartnt.
She threw herself into her beanbag chair, rubbing her temples in frustration.
Starry's debt weighed on her and Seika like a mountain.
If Starry went under, not only would Seika go bankrupt—PA-san herself would have to start over, finding so boring office job.
That was absolutely unacceptable.
After thinking long and hard, a bold idea crossed her mind.
Seiji.
Yes... him.
After all, from what she'd heard, Seiji might be a womanizing scumbag, but judging by Ryo Yamada's suspiciously well-kept lifestyle, he was also… generous with the won he was involved with.
A few tens of millions of yen in debt would probably an nothing to him.
If she could get his help, all their problems would vanish.
As for the cost...
A complicated look flickered across PA-san's face.
But soon, she made up her mind.
For Seika, for Nijika... and for her own lazy, comfortable way of life... she could afford to pay a small price.
She picked up her phone, opened LINE, and carefully worded a ssage to Ryo Yamada:
[Ryo-chan, do you know if Seiji-san has any favorite quiet bars he goes to? I'd like to get his autograph if I can find a chance to et him.]
Ryo smiled as she read the ssage.
"Heh… didn't expect PA-san to make the first move."
Without asking any further questions, she pulled up the address of an exclusive, high-end bar in Tokyo from her favorites and sent it over.
Then, casually, she took a screenshot of the conversation... and forwarded it straight to Seiji.
In his car, Seiji opened his eyes at the notification sound.
He checked the ssage and raised an eyebrow.
So the legendary PA-san was reaching out to him?
One look at her cautious tone in the screenshot and he instantly guessed her motive... it had to be about Starry's debt.
"Interesting."
A smirk tugged at his lips. He decided he might as well go.
After all, he never turned down prey that ca knocking.
Night fell over Shinjuku.
Inside a luxury rooftop bar accessible only by private elevator, PA-san sat rigidly in her seat.
She held a glass of whiskey that cost more than several days of her salary, her eyes darting toward the door every few seconds.
Every drink here cost a small fortune, but she'd had to buy one just to blend in... her "entry ticket," she told herself as she sipped it slowly.
Her mind raced, rehearsing how to approach him.
Should she be direct and ask for help right away? Or start subtly, easing into the subject?
How could she seem neither desperate nor scheming... just enough to stir sympathy… or maybe, his protective instinct?
She waited anxiously for what felt like forever.
Her ice had long lted, and her second drink was nearly gone.
Just when she started wondering if Ryo had tricked her...
The bar door opened.
A wave of feminine gasps rippled through the quiet lounge.
PA-san looked up instantly.
A young man in a black tailored shirt walked in, guided by a server.
His handso features looked like they'd stepped straight out of a manga panel, and the effortless confidence in his stride made it seem like the whole world was beneath his feet.
"Fujiwara-san! You're here!"
"Fujiwara-san, what would you like tonight?"
Dozens of waitresses in revealing uniforms sward toward him like sharks slling blood.
Other patrons raised their glasses, greeting him warmly.
Seiji handled it all with ease... returning polite, distant smiles to the won and nodding smoothly to the businessn who toasted him.
He was a born socialite, perfectly in control of the scene.
PA-san watched from her corner booth, sighing inwardly.
"This jerk… he really is handso."
It was her first ti seeing him in person, and she had to admit... he was even more attractive than the rumors and photos suggested.
No wonder so many won fell for him.
As she was thinking that, she noticed him turning... heading straight for her.
Her pulse quickened.
From his perspective, the woman sitting in the corner was stunning... an absolute gem.
Her fitted black dress hugged every curve of her mature, peach-like figure. Her long black hair flowed loosely over her shoulders, and her violet eyes shimred under the low light like twin athysts.
She radiated a strange mix of sultry charm and lazy otaku energy... a contradiction that made her all the more alluring.
Seiji's lips curled into a knowing smile as he approached.
He slid into the seat across from her.
"Fujiwara-san… hello," PA-san said quickly, snapping out of her daze. Her face shifted instantly into a composed, gentle smile, polite and harmless.
Seiji almost laughed.
Ryo had already told him about this woman's "cunning" nature... but if she wanted to play innocent, he didn't mind playing along.
"Hello," he replied casually.
Then PA-san began her pitch.
She first thanked him for looking after Ryo Yamada, then smoothly steered the conversation toward Starry Live House's recent financial troubles.
Finally, she ntioned... almost as an aside... that Seika was having a hard ti dealing with a redevelopnt issue.
As she spoke, she watched him carefully, hoping to catch a flicker of concern or sympathy.
But… nothing.
Seiji rely sipped his drink, expression unreadable... as if she were talking to the air.
"…"
PA-san froze.
She'd expected that, given his connection to Ryo, he'd at least show so interest, maybe even offer help.
But instead, he looked utterly indifferent.
She realized she'd miscalculated.
Recovering quickly, she put on an apologetic smile. "Ah, I'm so sorry, Fujiwara-san. I shouldn't have brought up depressing topics right away. That was rude of ."
Only then did Seiji finally speak, his voice calm but heavy with quiet authority.
"Do you know how many people try to talk to every day?"
His tone wasn't loud, but it carried an unmistakable pressure.
"I don't listen to just anyone."
He reached out and, to her shock, gently took her hand resting on the table.
His touch was warm, firm... completely enclosing her smaller, cooler hand.
PA-san froze. She wasn't sure whether to pull away or stay still.
"In the old days," Seiji went on, "a subject had to offer counsel to the king. A commoner visiting a noble had to bring a gift."
His thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand... a gesture filled with suggestion.
"Did you really think you could co to empty-handed… and have listen?"
PA-san was stunned speechless.
Her mind spun.
He was actually hitting on her.
And what's more... he was dressing up his proposition as sothing perfectly reasonable!
He was openly threatening her, implying that without giving him sothing in return, her words were worthless.
At that mont, whatever illusions she'd had about him shattered completely.
Her polite façade cracked.
She gave a sharp, mocking smile.
"Heh… Fujiwara-san, you really do have an appetite. See a woman, and you just have to devour her, huh?"
Seiji didn't even flinch. He simply released her hand, stood up, and walked toward the exit without a word.
The aning was clear.
Either pay the price...
Or pretend this night never happened.
PA-san watched his retreating back and sighed softly.
It had co to this. There was no turning back now.
Muttering curses about Seiji's entire family, she stood up and followed.
Outside, the night air was cool.
Seiji stood by the curb, calling for a chauffeur.
Monts later, a sleek black car pulled up.
He opened the rear door and climbed inside.
PA-san exhaled quietly, then followed suit... sliding into the seat beside him, her body brushing lightly against his.
The soft warmth of her curves and the faint scent of whiskey and perfu filled the space between them.
Seiji leaned back, a faint smile playing at his lips.
Tonight had just gotten interesting.
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