Watching Titanic for the fourth time, a film he'd already memorized scene by scene, Yukima Azuma didn't feel even a hint of boredom.
Bocchi's glistening, anxious eyes and her inner conflict made teasing her endlessly amusing. Eriri's progression from stubborn tsundere to bashfully honest, her lips as sweet as pear juice, lingered vividly in his memory.
In contrast, his movie dates with Kasumigaoka Utaha and Kato Megumi were far calmer. With Megumi, they hadn't moved past holding hands. But just sitting beside her, immersed in silence, was more than enough.
Utaha, on the other hand—well, with her, anything short of a scandal was fair game, even inside a cinema.
When Titanic concluded its theatrical run, the box office data came in. Yukima Azuma's "all-in" gamble had netted Laplace Corporation a staggering profit of $119 million. After subtracting the original capital, the net gain exceeded $100 million, a 1,000% return.
Converted to yen, that came out to over 18.2 billion yen.
It was such an absurdly successful investment that even Hayasaka Nao, ever composed, called him personally to report the numbers. She had followed Azuma's lead and invested a little herself—not "all-in," but still walked away a winner.
More than the money, though, she was floored by his timing.
It was as if—true to the name—Laplace's Demon had foreseen the future.
During the call, they casually discussed next steps. Azuma planned to allocate:
$20 million toward investing in a little-known man named Michael Dell, who had started a PC company with just $1,000 two years ago and was now on the cusp of product launch.
Another $50 million into a software operating system from a rising tech firm: Microsoft.
Ordinarily, Microsoft wouldn't accept early-stage investment from a no-name firm like Laplace. Reputation mattered more than capital. But at the time, Microsoft faced stiff headwinds: the U.S. government was backing its own operating system for the Department of Defense, drawing investor interest elsewhere.
Laplace, by sheer daring, slipped into the opportunity gap.
The rest of the profits, minus operating costs, were routed to the Japanese branch.
And so, the next chapter began.
Later That Day…
Yukinoshita Yukino sat across from a smiling Isshiki Iroha, quietly evaluating her during an HR interview.
Her resume was impressive—but unnecessary. Yukino personally handled all human resources matters. There was no real need to add staff.
"Isshiki-san," she offered gently, "have you considered applying for a different role?"
The girl politely shook her head.
Yukino sighed internally. In the past, she would've rejected such insistence without a second thought. But ever since working under Azuma, she'd been trying to learn—to negotiate instead of dictate.
Before she could conclude the interview, her phone rang.
"Excuse me." Yukino stepped outside to take the call.
"President?"
"Yukino, what are you doing?"
"…Working. Is there something you need?"
In the past, she might've cut off anyone who interrupted her work with a cold "I'm busy." But now, she listened patiently.
"There is. Hire a few people for HR over the next two days—and then stop working."
She blinked.
Was he firing her?
Inwardly, Yukino reviewed the past two weeks. She had been diligent. She had been patient. She had even tolerated his nonsense. So why?
"Moshi moshi? Yukino, you there?"
"…Yes. I understand."
Her voice was calm. But inside, she was unraveling.
Back in the interview room, she smiled faintly. "Isshiki-san, welcome to Laplace Corporation. Let's process your onboarding paperwork."
Even under the weight of potential dismissal, Yukino remained professional.
On their way out, Isshiki glanced at her curiously.
"Yukinoshita-san… is something wrong?"
Yukino just shook her head.
Later Still…
Following the GPS directions Azuma sent her, Yukino walked through Tokyo's streets in a daze.
Why now?
She had finally found purpose. Peace. Perhaps even happiness.
Was it all ending?
She spotted him waiting at the curb.
Despite her best efforts to stay composed, Yukino rushed toward him, gripped his shoulders, and choked out:
"Why are you firing me? Did I do something wrong?"
Azuma looked stunned.
"…Who said anything about firing you?"
Yukino stared blankly. "You told me to stop working."
"I meant in HR," Azuma replied. "Didn't I say from the beginning it was just temporary?"
"Now that we're financially stable, keeping you stuck in recruitment would be a waste."
"We're buying a few factories. We'll form a new subsidiary—and you'll be the branch director."
He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"I trust you with this, Yukino."
Yukino's breath hitched. And then, the tears came.
"Why… can't you just say everything clearly from the start?"
Azuma, bewildered but soft-hearted, pulled out a tissue.
She wiped her eyes and whispered, "How much did we make?"
"119 million," he replied.
She nodded. As expected.
"In USD," he added.
Yukino paused.
Then glared.
Then nearly cried again.
"That's—! You…!"
How long had the Yukinoshita family taken to earn that much? Eight, ten years—and that was during Japan's economic boom!
Azuma's calmness was infuriating.
She asked, "How did you even manage that?"
"I told you. I bet the entire company fund on a film."
"…Demon."
Once her tears were dry, Yukino straightened her blazer and cleared her throat.
"So, what now, Laplace demon-sama?"
"…That title is kinda embarrassing."
"You earned it."
"Alright, alright—first, let's go buy a car."
"You're not old enough to drive."
"It's for you."
"…I'm the branch manager, not your chauffeur."
"I'll pay extra for the driver role."
"Fine, President."
"You're so easy to persuade when you're poor."
"This is legitimate income!"