Chapter 77: Wanting to Have You!

Tao Zhiming felt his mindset was off—probably because being in close proximity to an underworld boss had gotten him a little high. Of course, there was also the urge, having come to a place like this, to consciously act more inscrutable.

He coughed and said, “Of course, what I’ve said is only a possibility. But you stepping in to help persuade that brat Yusuke Obata must have some deeper purpose too, right?”

Suzuki Daiki watched his relaxed expression and adjusted his own mood. Brave as he was, it made sense on reflection—anyone who could converse so easily with someone like Kinoshita Shufu would naturally have this kind of composure.

Hearing his question, Suzuki Daiki neither confirmed nor denied it: “Since I had Yuta bring you straight to me, I can’t leave any loose ends. The two paths you mentioned are precisely the only two I could offer him.”

Tao Zhiming’s heart tightened, and he grew more solemn: “I hope you don’t mind that I’m relying on the power of the Shindo Group to exert some pressure.”

Indeed, the power struggles between underworld organizations had nothing to do with him; there was no need to pry out of mere curiosity.

Tao Zhiming realized he’d been floating a bit today—probably because he’d made a windfall, received a loan of 1.5 billion yen, and had savored the thrill of unleashing his inner ferocity. This wasn’t a good thing. Now that he’d laid his foundation, he should settle down.

Suzuki Daiki waved a dismissive hand. “Even if you hadn’t come here, I doubt you’d lack other means. That aside, I want to ask: after yesterday’s news broke, the financial markets became the talk of the town. Inoue Ryu lent you money—was it for this? Did you profit, or take a loss?”

Suzuki Daiki thought it entirely possible that Tao Zhiming had lost money. Violent market swings don’t guarantee profit for everyone; in fact, most are swayed by public information and end up as cannon fodder.

For instance, after the news broke, so-called experts would appear on all fronts, almost all taking the government’s side, claiming that the exchange rate would surely stabilize after these strong measures. This wasn’t the age of the internet; information and discussion weren’t so accessible. In the era when TV, newspapers, and radio still held monopolistic authority, most people lacked the ability to judge for themselves.

Even in Japan, with its advanced education, it was the same. Most of the wealth was still in the hands of those born in the forties and fifties, whose education was limited.

Having just adjusted his own attitude, Tao Zhiming replied modestly, “I used a strategy called risk hedging—betting on both the appreciation and the depreciation of the yen. Luckily, the position betting on appreciation was larger, so I made a little profit.”

Just as he thought, Suzuki Daiki mused. “To use this risk hedging strategy, you need significant capital, don’t you?”

“Exactly. The more capital you have, the more options you have.”

“And your profits—at the very least, they’ll cover Inoue Ryu’s returns, with some left over?”

Tao Zhiming sighed, “That was the case yesterday. But such dramatic market swings don’t happen every day. Yuta probably told you—I spent a lot of money on the most advanced machine, and with my own knowledge and judgment, I dared to promise these returns to President Inoue and you. If I could make profits like yesterday every day, then in the future, a lot of capital would come to me, and the returns I’d promise would be lower. After all, then I’d hold all the cards.”

Suzuki Daiki smiled, “So, the sooner you get in, the better?”

Tao Zhiming said honestly, “That’s right. The risks look greater now, but the returns will also be higher. It’s very fair.”

“That makes sense…” Suzuki Daiki pondered quietly for a moment, then laughed heartily. “Looks like I’ll have to assign someone to protect you now.”

“For our mutual benefit, of course!”

So he really was ready to invest the tribute he was supposed to hand over to the Inagawa-kai.

But the figure of 500 million yen no longer excited Tao Zhiming as much as before. After all, he could now produce that sum himself. It was just a partnership, nothing more.

***

Reborn at the end of February—he’d truly caught Japan’s second rate cut just in time.

To seize this windfall, Tao Zhiming had been on edge for three weeks, taking on more risk than usual.

But one always needs to adjust their pace. As he continued chatting with Suzuki Daiki, Tao Zhiming suddenly thought of Runa Onodera.

How long would this dish keep stewing in her own thoughts before she was willing to present herself, perfectly dressed, before him?

…

Dinner was lavish that night.

Tao Zhiming didn’t stay to eat with Suzuki Daiki, but went home instead.

To his surprise, Yosuke Ueno hadn’t returned yet, leaving the household as two adults and a child.

As they ate, Tao Zhiming asked, “How’s old man Okawa getting along with the ladies?”

“…I called to check—he’s doing well…” Runa Onodera answered softly.

“Giving someone the hope of a less lonely future is far more gratifying than simply persuading them with profit, isn’t it?” Tao Zhiming teased the little girl beside him. “Miyako, has your mother been smiling more lately?”

“She was, but today Mommy’s not happy.” Miyako Inoue pouted.

“Oh? So having a bit more money has made things more troublesome?” Tao Zhiming glanced at Runa Onodera.

Runa looked away, meeting his gaze with a trace of reproach. He knew perfectly well why she felt that way, yet still teased her like this.

Tao Zhiming simply smiled at her.

Runa Onodera lowered her head and quietly continued eating.

“There’s nothing special to do tonight. Runa, after dinner, let’s take a walk nearby. Maybe we’ll find the clue you were looking for last night.”

“…Alright,” Runa replied softly, quickening her pace.

“Miyako, stay home and don’t watch too much TV, alright? When it’s time, go to bed on time. Yosuke has a key, so don’t open the door for strangers.”

“Miyako knows!” The little girl was crazy about this older brother now—he always brought delicious treats, comic books, and new clothes.

Tao Zhiming ruffled her hair, grinning, then dug into his meal.

After changing into something more casual, he found Runa Onodera had already tidied up. She reminded Miyako once more, then followed Tao Zhiming out.

Downstairs, on the street, Tao Zhiming stopped. Runa Onodera stood not far behind and asked softly, “Where shall we look first?”

Tao Zhiming turned and extended his hand. “Look for what? That was just an excuse. Let’s take a walk together! I did something pretty violent this afternoon—I need to relax.”

Runa Onodera stared blankly at his outstretched hand. What violent thing had he done this afternoon?

She glanced at him again and fell silent.

He really did seem relaxed—nothing like other people, who would maintain a proper facade outside the house.

Thinking it over, he’d spent all this time using his clever mind to navigate the world of powerful men.

“It’s been so long since I’ve taken such an easy stroll,” Tao Zhiming said, reaching over and taking her hand in his, walking slowly.

Runa Onodera instinctively tried to pull her hand away—she wasn’t used to such intimacy outside the home—but Tao Zhiming’s grip was firm.

Yet as they walked, swept up in the special mood, Runa Onodera couldn’t help glancing up at him, her eyes growing misty. “How can you expect me to accept such a relationship just like that?”

“If you hadn’t met me, did you ever plan to remarry?”

Marriage… Runa Onodera fell silent. Miyako was already so big, and life had always been tight—how could she entertain such thoughts? When she was in her thirties, would she still want to marry?

Tao Zhiming said gently, “Aside from Yosuke, you’re the person I’m closest to in all of Tokyo. If I only wanted you to work hard for me, why would I put so much energy into you? Don’t doubt my sincerity. For now, just walk with me.”

“…I’d rather just be your subordinate in the future. That way, at least my heart won’t ache.”

“Would it really not ache?” Tao Zhiming countered.

“It wouldn’t… not because of you, at least.”

“But there would still be pain—pain caused by yourself.” Tao Zhiming spoke with certainty, then softened his tone. “You’re not a naive girl anymore. After all you’ve been through, I thought you’d see things clearly. Runa, wholehearted love is an illusion—more often just empty words. Only through long companionship can you see where someone’s heart truly lies.”

Yet your heart will never belong to just one person. That’s what Runa Onodera thought. She truly wasn’t a young girl lost before love, but if she hoped for anything, it was for a complete love.

So she replied softly, “But once people get something, they always want more…”

“What do you want?”

“I…” Runa Onodera looked up at him, then dropped her gaze. “All this time, it was only Miyako who gave me the courage to carry on. You’re the one who’s awakened ambitions I shouldn’t have.”

Tao Zhiming smiled, “Tell me—what do you want now?”

Runa Onodera was silent for a long time. For some reason, she thought of Okawa Tsui.

Ever since she’d moved here, she realized she’d unconsciously found the feeling of home again.

It was the feeling of not being alone, the feeling of hope.

Just like when Miyako was still small.

But this time, there was no man she could be coquettish with, no one to lean on at night.

She looked down at her hand, held tightly in his, and suddenly tears began to fall.

Then, as her hand was released and a sudden emptiness swept through her heart, she was wrapped in his arms, drawn close.

The tall young man beside her was so strong and reliable that, in this long-lost, joyous embrace, she couldn’t help but murmur, “So brazenly… I want you…”