-----
-----
"No!"
"It's not like that..."
Yoko Okino instinctively licked her lips.
To be honest, the pure and innocent image she presented on screen wasn't something she actively tried to cultivate. It was simply a natural result of how she carried herself since her debut.
Even now…
She had managed to hold on to her first kiss for 22 years.
Because of that—
She couldn't accept kissing someone when she didn't even know who they were.
"Actually..."
"I told Director Keiko Yamato before that I wasn't suited to play the female lead in Blue Ocean."
"But she sternly warned me that if I refused, it would be difficult for me to continue my career in the entertainment industry."
"..."
Yoko let out a long sigh.
She had no choice.
Everyone in the industry knew that Keiko Yamato was not someone to be messed with.
She had deep connections and an extreme way of doing things.
Her manager, Mr. Yamagishi, had already told her that many big-name stars had been forced to take roles in Keiko's productions in the past.
"You want me to help you?"
Yoko met Akira's gaze.
After a brief three-second pause...
She slowly nodded.
"Do you have a way?"
At this point, Yoko Okino was out of options.
After thinking it through…
She decided to try her luck with Akira.
A few days ago, he had handled the Fujie Akio incident flawlessly, making her suspect that he was more than just a detective's assistant.
"Of course I do."
The moment he said that…
Hope reignited on Yoko's delicate face.
At that moment—
Akira's gaze felt like two beams of light piercing through her despair.
"Mr. Akira."
"What's your plan?"
She was getting impatient.
These days, her nightmares were split into two halves—
The first half, she dreamt of the terrifying stalker, Fujie Akio, dying in her home.
The second half, she dreamt of battling wits with the wretched Director Keiko Yamato.
"Just wait for my good news."
Hearing Akira's confident response, Yoko finally felt some of the weight lift off her chest.
Was he really going to take care of everything for her?!
"Mr. Akira."
"I don't even know how to thank you."
From dealing with her stalker, to handling a murder case, and now even helping her with her career troubles…
"Then just treat me to a meal when this is all over."
Yoko smiled slightly.
That was a given!
As the saying goes: A drop of kindness should be repaid with a fountain of gratitude.
And she owed Akira far more than just a drop.
Nightfall.
After guarding the CLOVER convenience store all day, Akira drove his Ferrari F8 back to his luxurious villa in Beika Town, 3rd Block.
Recently, business at CLOVER had been booming, with thousands of items sold daily.
But after doing the calculations…
If he kept up this pace, it would take at least a year to upgrade to a Level 5 convenience store.
So…
The fastest way to make money and level up was still through selling arms.
Bang, bang, bang…
Suddenly, someone knocked on the villa's door.
In an instant…
Akira became alert.
Who could it be?
He barely knew anyone in Tokyo, and even fewer people knew his address.
Fuyutsuki Shiori? Mori Ran?
Akira shook his head.
Both of them were the type to hesitate and overthink—there was no way they'd show up at his villa this late at night.
Suzuki Sonoko?
She was bold enough, but an hour ago, he had just let her go to the bathroom.
As he considered the possibilities…
He walked over to the video intercom system and checked the screen.
"Miyamoto Yumi?"
That's right.
The person knocking was none other than his next-door neighbor.
She stood there alone, swaying slightly, looking as if she was in trouble.
Akira stepped outside and opened the door.
In that moment…
A faint scent of alcohol drifted toward him.
Though the smell wasn't too strong, Miyamoto Yumi was clearly drunk out of her mind.
"Why did you drink so much?"
Before he could finish his sentence…
Yumi's unsteady body suddenly collapsed into his arms, her slender arms wrapping around his neck.
"Hahaha—"
"Not that much!"
"I only had two bottles of beer."
Akira's brows twitched slightly.
Well… that wasn't much.
But it certainly said a lot about her terrible alcohol tolerance.
"Huh…?"
"Why… why are you in my house?"
Yumi was already slurring her words.
As she spoke…
Her grip around his neck tightened even more.
"You're drunk."
"This is my house."
She was completely wasted.
No wonder she had been wandering unsteadily outside his villa for so long.
At some point, she had even found a popsicle stick and started poking at his lock—if he hadn't stopped her, she might have jammed it completely.
"Drunk?"
"Am I… am I drunk?"
"Hahaha—"
"I only had… just… two beers…"
"..."
No choice!
He had to take her inside first.
Akira looked at the woman now cradled in his arms…
The alcohol had flushed her cheeks, adding an extra layer of charm and seduction.
Her full chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths, an enticing sight.
"....."