How does this guy always make the dirtiest, most shameless things sound so noble?
Still… letting Nijika do something that makes her happy might not be a bad way to lift her mood.
Ryo thought for a moment, then quietly slipped out.
…
Inside the practice room,
Seiji beckoned with a calm smile. "Come here."
Nijika walked over, resigned.
In the soundproof basement studio, Seiji used his own raw, primal method to give the girl a "groove lesson" she would never forget.
He stripped off her clothes and laid her down on the practice mats.
Her entire body became his drum.
"Feel that, Nijika?"
He thrust deep inside her—slow, powerful, rhythmic.
"Ahh...! Nn..."
"That's the heartbeat of the bass drum..."
Each stroke was deliberate, hitting her deepest spots with the steady, pounding pulse of a kick drum.
"S-Seiji... it's too... ahh..."
"And this—"
He suddenly picked up the pace, hips snapping against her in rapid, explosive bursts.
"Hyaah...! Ah! Ah! Ah!"
"—is the crack of the snare."
Nijika's back arched off the mat, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"Relax..." he murmured against her ear, slowing down again, grinding deep. "Don't think... just let your body remember this feeling..."
"Hnn... mmn... I can't... my head is going blank..."
At first, Nijika had resisted—squirming, protesting that this wasn't real training. But soon her mind was swept away by wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure.
Her thoughts went completely white.
Only Seiji's voice echoed in her ears... like a brand, searing itself into her body. His rhythm became her rhythm. The beat of her heart synchronized with every thrust.
"Now... the fill before the drop..."
He lifted her hips, changing the angle, and drove into her relentlessly.
"Aaahh...!! Seiji...! I'm... I'm gonna...!"
"That's it... let it build... and—"
"HYAAAHH—!!"
Her entire body convulsed as she crashed over the edge, her inner walls clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses.
She didn't know when she passed out, or when she woke up again.
By the time the "lesson" ended, Nijika felt like she'd been completely reborn.
She curled up in Seiji's arms like a docile, satisfied kitten, her naked body still trembling with aftershocks. Her face was flushed a deep pink, streaked with tears and sweat, her thighs slick with the evidence of their "practice session."
"Honestly…"
She looked up, half-pouting, half-glaring at him.
That expression... half conquered, half sulking like a spoiled child... filled Seiji with a deep, primal satisfaction.
…
Three days later, at Shimokitazawa's famous live house "Shelter,"
the Unity Band took the stage.
They performed a newly rearranged version of Seiji's song... a track bursting with wild, untamed energy.
At first, the crowd didn't care much. They assumed it was just another company-backed act trying to make noise.
But the moment the song started, the venue fell dead silent.
Then, an explosion of cheers, whistles, and screams shook the air, roaring loud enough to blow the roof off.
"They're insane!!"
"This is real rock!!"
"And that drummer... holy hell, that solo was unreal!!"
Amid the roaring crowd, Ryo Yamada stared at Nijika like she was seeing a monster.
The blonde girl, breathless but radiant, was glowing with pure confidence and joy.
"You've got to be kidding me…" Ryo muttered.
During the song's final solo, Nijika had not only nailed the complex rhythm flawlessly, she'd even added an improvised overload fill that was full of spirit and personality... raw, free, alive.
It was as if her soul itself had broken free in that instant.
That "practical training" actually worked this well?
Ryo couldn't help grumbling inwardly. Wasn't that just Seiji's excuse to get handsy?
Instinctively, she looked toward the audience... where Seiji was watching from the crowd.
He seemed to sense her gaze and lifted his head, giving her a faint, knowing smile.
Ryo held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.
…She silently decided that she, too, might need a few "practical sessions" with him.
…
The show was a huge success.
And right after, a cold mechanical chime rang in Seiji's head.
[System Notification: Target 'Nijika Ijichi'... submission level at 100%. Status: Complete Subjugation.]
[Phase Objective: Completed.]
[Reward Distribution in Progress...]
[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained: Full Command Authority over an Elite Mercenary Unit.]
A torrent of classified data poured into his mind... files under the codename "Ghost."
The dossier detailed a twelve-man team, composed of elite veterans from top-tier special forces around the world.
Their commander, codename "Ghost," was a former leader of SEAL Team Six. The team specialized in everything from infiltration and assassination to intelligence and demolition, armed with enough firepower to rival a small army.
Seiji skimmed through the data, his lips curving in astonishment.
"My old 'security team' was just a few ex-JSDF guys... good enough to scare off thugs and paparazzi."
"But these people…"
He looked at the photo... a group shot of the Ghost unit in full gear on a Middle Eastern battlefield, radiating lethal intensity.
"…these are real war machines. They could wipe an organization off the map overnight."
"With them, cleaning up… inconvenient problems just got a whole lot easier."
Just then, his phone buzzed.
A message from his assistant.
Assistant: Fujiwara-san, we've hit a minor obstacle regarding the "Tokyo New Generation Rock Festival" planned for next summer.
Sony Music's new rising band is preparing a large-scale concert around the same time, competing for both venues and sponsors.
I have a proposal: we can capitalize on Unity Band's recent success by featuring them as the festival's headliner. If we partner with all the live houses in Shimokitazawa... with STARRY as the central brand... we can launch a "Shimokitazawa Rock Alliance" campaign to counter Sony's influence.
However, this might require deeper collaboration between Seika-san Ijichi and Nijika Ijichi-san…
Seiji stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"A project that requires the two sisters to be closely bound together, huh?"
"Perfect timing. Guess it's time to defuse that bomb."
He smiled faintly. "But before that…"
…
Late that night,
Seiji drove out to a deserted warehouse district by Tokyo Bay.
He parked, approached a rusted metal door...
... and the massive gate slid open silently, revealing a high-tech facility hidden within.
The interior was vast, sterile, and gleaming under cold white lights.
Twelve imposing figures stood in formation, clad in black tactical gear, emanating a deadly aura forged through countless battles.
The one in front wore a skull-patterned mask. He stepped forward and spoke in a deep, clipped tone:
"Sir!"
In perfect unison, all twelve men snapped to attention, saluting sharply.
The sheer discipline and power in that single gesture made Seiji's chest tighten with awe.
He kept his expression calm, but in his mind, he asked the system: Where did they come from?
[System: Beginning "Reward Reality Anchor." Anchor Complete.]
[Rationalized Background Created:]
This system has generated a complete, untraceable backstory. Through a Ghost Trust based in Liechtenstein, you have secretly recruited and funded this elite unit over the past five years.
[Loyalty Anchor:]
All members' base memories have been reconstructed. In their minds, you are their one and only "employer" and "savior." Their purpose in life is to serve you, and to die for you if required.
[Social Integration Anchor:]
Bank records, contracts, and operational orders have been embedded into global databases. In every intelligence network, your connection to Ghost is fully consistent and legally airtight. You are now their lawful and sole commander.
Seiji nodded slowly.
So the system had fabricated a plausible history... and absolute loyalty.
He turned toward Ghost's masked leader and spoke calmly. "Report."
Without hesitation, Ghost handed him a military-grade tablet. The screen displayed a dynamic report titled: [Tokyo Area Security Assessment].
"Sir," the man said in his clipped voice, "based on your current activity range, we have completed an initial threat assessment."
He swiped across the display, revealing a detailed Tokyo map dotted with colored markers.
"First, your personal security. Your existing protection detail is ceremonial at best. Within the last twelve hours, we identified and intercepted three low-level surveillance teams... two from gossip magazines, one from a private investigative firm. Your daily routes have seventeen unguarded exposure points. You are effectively unprotected."
He switched layers.
"Next, this is the current distribution of underground organizations in Tokyo."
Different regions on the map lit up in color-coded patches... each representing a yakuza faction. Some were even annotated with the names and photos of their bosses.
"Shinjuku is mainly controlled by the Kantō Union. They've recently moved into finance. The small developers that harassed STARRY in Shimokitazawa were under a third-tier group of the Kyūryū-kai. That group's currently in internal conflict and has halted most outside activity."
The level of detail was terrifying... like a full military intelligence dossier.
"Sir," Ghost continued flatly, "your surrounding threat level is moderate, but will escalate rapidly with your growing influence. We recommend immediate environmental purification... eliminate all known high-risk entities and secure a clean operational sphere. Please issue your orders."
Seiji studied the map, eyebrows lifting slightly.
Every name, every transaction, every hidden mistress... even their medical weaknesses... was listed.
Absolute information meant absolute advantage.
"You've done well," he said at last. "But don't purge them."
"Chaos has its uses. A perfectly clean environment… isn't always ideal for growth."
He closed the tablet, eyes sweeping over the twelve silent soldiers before him.
"Your mission isn't purification... it's control."
"I want this map updated weekly. I want to know every power shift, every black-market deal."
He paused, then added, "That Kyūryū-kai group that targeted the Shimokitazawa live houses... give me a full report on their man in charge. No need to make him disappear. Just make sure he learns when to back off."
"Yes, sir."
The twelve voices echoed as one, their unified reply resonating through the vast warehouse.
Seiji turned and walked toward the exit.
From this day forward, he was no longer just a wealthy, talented celebrity.
He now possessed his own private army.
The pawn had stepped off the board... and become the player.
…
Time flew.
Two weeks had passed since Unity Band's legendary Shelter performance.
In that time, the Ijichi sisters' lives had changed completely.
Under Seiji's personal guidance, Seika revitalized STARRY.
Once a struggling live house on the verge of bankruptcy, it had become the hottest indie venue in Shimokitazawa... and Seika herself had risen from debt-ridden manager to the respected "Seika-san" idolized by underground bands.
Nijika, meanwhile, tore through venues across Shimokitazawa alongside Ryo Yamada. Her expressive, explosive drumming earned her the title of "genius drummer" and a legion of passionate fans.
The sisters were both thriving... each chasing her dream in her own lane.
But beneath that bright surface lay a shameful secret only they knew.
When night fell, in different places and at different times, they each offered themselves to the same man.
Both guarded that secret with their lives.
Each believed she was the one sacrificing herself... for her family, for her dream... and each prayed the other would never find out.
But no secret lasts forever.
And Seiji had decided it was time to reveal it himself.
…
In a luxury apartment in central Tokyo...
Utaha Kasumigaoka and Eriri Spencer Sawamura were lounging on either side of Seiji.
Both wore silk sleepwear, their hair draped over his shoulders.
Utaha held a tablet, scrolling lazily through a fashion feed, her wine-red eyes glinting.
"Seiji," she murmured, setting the tablet down, "why did you invite those 'rock sisters' here? Finally tired of your little double-life act and planning to tell them the truth?"
Seiji smiled faintly, saying nothing.
"Wait, for real?" Eriri perked up instantly, her face lighting up with mischievous delight. "Oh, this is gonna be good!"
"Especially that older sister... what was her name again? Seika?"
Eriri grinned. "I've met her once. She's like a walking landmine... prickly and proud, the textbook definition of a danger girl! If she finds out her precious little sister's also been… 'handled' by you... " she giggled wickedly, "... I can't even imagine the explosion!"
Her teasing gaze was pure mischief, clearly anticipating the drama.
Utaha, however, shook her head slowly. "You're too naive, Eriri."
"With a man like him, do you really think he'd do something like this unprepared?"
Her eyes slid toward Seiji. "You've already planned something twisted, haven't you?"
Seiji chuckled quietly.
She was right, of course.
He'd invited both sisters today for one reason... to defuse the "bomb," and in doing so, start a new kind of game.
After all… he'd been waiting a long time for the sister combo event.
The doorbell chimed.
"Ding-dong."
Seiji smiled at Utaha, his expression saying, Bingo.
"Alright, ladies. Behave yourselves."
He rose and walked to the door.
…
In the elevator outside the apartment,
the Ijichi sisters stepped in... one after the other.
When they saw each other, both froze.