Starting Tokyo Life From Inheriting A Shopping Street Chapter 140

A/N:- morize has been taken down because official english version is coming.

Amid her excitent, An Akiyama suddenly rembered they were eating at Champion Ran for lunch. She said with a tinge of regret, "Chiba-kun’s treating us to lunch, so we can’t accept Uesaka-san’s invitation."

"Chiba-kun?" The disciplinary committee mber’s curiosity piqued.

"Oh, right, Nee-san, where’d Chiba-kun go? Why hasn’t he co back?" An turned to her sister, suddenly recalling.

Tsuki Akiyama clenched her teeth, struggling to keep composed, and replied, "He... probably went to the bathroom..."

"Speaking of..." The committee mber’s gossip radar pinged again. "Chiba-kun’s out shopping with you and the president. So... does that an you’ve approved of him dating your sister?"

"Huh? Am I already dating Chiba-kun?!" An’s heart soared, as if she’d stumbled into a dream. How had she succeeded without even trying? Was this for real?

"No way! I’d never let a guy like that touch my sister!" Tsuki denied vehently.

A guy like that...

The committee mber sensed sothing off, but still guilty from her earlier dirty assumptions about the president, she didn’t dare speculate further. She chalked it up to Tsuki being emotional about her sister.

"Uh... sorry, President, I shouldn’t have pried."

"It’s fine. But no one’s laying a hand on my sister. I’d pay any price to prevent that!" Tsuki said through gritted teeth, each word deliberate.

She looked so serious...

The committee mber’s admiration for Tsuki’s sisterly devotion surged again.

But An clearly wasn’t pleased, muttering, "Chiba-kun’s such a good guy, but Nee-san always badmouths him, and he doesn’t even get mad."

The committee mber realized she’d ssed up today, cursing herself for being nosy. Her question had clearly upset the president, whose face was flushed and body trembling with anger.

The awkward tension made her want to bolt. "Um, since you’re shopping as a trio, I’ll... I’ll just leave you to it..."

Tsuki was about to respond when a command whispered in her ear.

With her subordinate finally leaving, Tsuki was ready to nod, but the command made her jolt. She gripped the doorfra and ducked back into the changing room.

Then...

"President?"

The committee mber, about to leave, froze, staring at the gently swaying curtain, utterly confused.

But Tsuki had no ti to deal with her. The committee mber and An stared at each other for a long mont until Tsuki finally poked her head out again.

Her odd behavior and appearance sent the committee mber’s heart racing.

How could she be so vile?!

The president was just overworked, physically frail, and prone to illness—that’s all!

But looking her over again...

The committee mber had never seen the president like this. Everything about her scread strange.

"I’m fine. You go handle your own stuff," Tsuki said, sounding exhausted.

"Then... I’ll take my leave?" With a head full of doubts, the committee mber left, glancing back every few steps.

Once her subordinate was gone, leaving just her sister, the thrilling tension faded significantly. Tsuki was savoring the afterglow when she noticed her dummy sister glaring at her, cheeks puffed out.

"Nee-san’s sneaking food again! I sll it—sothing I haven’t tried!"

"..."

Tsuki felt not just physically weak but guilty too. An wasn’t wrong—she was sneaking sothing.

"Don’t talk nonsense. No sneaking. Go change out of those pajamas. We’re heading to Champion Ran soon. If you’re late, we’re not waiting."

Tsuki knew her sister too well. Sure enough, the threat worked—An yelped and scurried back to change.

When An erged, Shuichi Chiba reappeared, standing side by side with a still-flushed Tsuki at the changing room entrance.

"Chiba-kun’s back from the bathroom?" An asked, tilting her head, clutching the pajamas.

"Yeah." Shuichi nodded, checking the price tag on her pajamas. "Only 6,000 yen? Go pick another set."

"Huh? Isn’t that too much...?" An hesitated. "This set’s already way pricier than my old ones—almost double."

"It’s fine. Go."

Shuichi patted her head, privately marveling. Girls as frugal and simple as her were rare these days.

His savings were on thin ice, but as long as he could hold out until next month’s paycheck, it’d be fine.

And if he couldn’t make it to next month?

No big deal. He ate and drank at the ran shop, lived rent-free, had enough clothes, and could skip shopping for a month without issue.

Workouts and massages were free, and even decorative flowers ca from mooching.

Living the ultimate freeloader life.

Seeing her sister didn’t object, An happily went to pick another set.

This ti, she chose sothing cheaper. At checkout, the two sets, packed into two large paper bags, totaled just 10,000 yen.

"Total is 20,000 yen. Here are your purchases."

An blinked, staring at the tiny paper bag in her sister’s hand, containing a single delicate box.

"Nee-san, what’d you buy? That tiny thing costs 10,000 yen?"

She couldn’t believe it. Her sister was always the thriftiest, even buying discounted blue-and-white striped stuff.

"Nothing. Kids don’t need to know," Tsuki said, her cheeks faintly red.

It got dirty—how could she not buy it?

Shuichi eyed the smiling cashier, realizing this shop’s main profit probably ca from this. Smart business.

The most tempting items were always the skimpiest—low cost, high price, and easily soiled during try-ons, forcing purchases.

But this piece was clearly for private wear. Shuichi said, "President, pick out a pajama set too."

"No need. This is enough," Tsuki refused without hesitation.

Shuichi didn’t press. Despite her peculiar kinks, the pervert president had principles. She only spent his money on things ant for his eyes.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t take a di, even paying her own train fare.

An eyed the tiny bag suspiciously, convinced her sister was hiding sothing. Her little eyes darted around, plotting who-knows-what.

But Tsuki wasn’t fazed by her sister’s suspicions. A little distraction with so tasty food, and An would forget everything.

After paying, as if to confirm Shuichi’s hunch, a staff mber quietly headed to the changing room with cleaning supplies.

Shuichi ntally praised their service—definitely coming back—and led the sisters out of the shopping center toward Champion Ran.

When they arrived, a few custors were waiting in the rest area, but their prior reservation ensured they’d get in.

They’d registered at 10 a.m., securing spot 26, aning they’d eat around 12:30 or later.

It was 12:20 now, so they had to wait a bit.

With nothing to do, An dug into her snacks, plopping down outside the ran shop and munching away.

She drew plenty of stares.

Eating a few snacks or sipping a drink while waiting was normal, but scarfing down food like her? That was rare.

Shuichi wasn’t into snacks, nor was Tsuki. The two of them, in full view of other custors, sneakily exchanged small touches to pass the ti.

"This shop’s a legit genius. Opened three years ago, won the Ran Newcor Award in six months, and topped Tokyo’s rankings the year before last, second nationwide.

In just thirty months, they went from nothing to the throne. And the craziest part? It’s just the owner!

He cooks the noodles, grills the at, serves, cleans, and even calls numbers himself. That’s why they only sell sixty bowls a day."

As Shuichi and Tsuki furtively groped, nearby waiting custors chatted about the shop’s reputation.

It was a bit embarrassing to overhear.

Soon, so diners finished, and the owner started calling numbers. By a stroke of luck, he called four numbers, letting the trio enter together.

The wild part? The shop had only six seats, so groups of three might have to eat in shifts.

The owner, busy as hell, welcod them and reminded them: one bowl per person, no more—he couldn’t handle it.

Having done their howork, Shuichi and the sisters weren’t surprised. They each ordered one of the shop’s more famous bowls.

Shuichi got the so-called "strongest soy sauce ran on Earth."

When it arrived, the aroma of charcoal-grilled chicken hit him. A quick glance showed toppings unlike Akiyama-san’s style: crispy fried onions, seared pork, and even two wontons.

An was already slurping her noodles loudly. Shuichi, in no rush, picked up his spoon, lightly sipping the broth.

Then the pork, grilled chicken, wontons.

Each a brief taste before he gently set his chopsticks down, a stark contrast to the other custors slurping noisily.

In Japan, slurping ran loudly is a sign of respect and appreciation for the chef, showing you love the flavor.

Shuichi’s deanor caught the owner’s attention.

The owner paused his frantic work, frowning slightly, and looked over curiously.

"Is sothing wrong, sir? If the flavor’s off, I’ll make you a new bowl right away," He said politely.

Shuichi waved it off. "Nah, don’t worry. Nothing’s wrong—it’s on ."

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