The apartment corridor was covered with a soft carpet, and the sound of footsteps was completely absorbed, leaving only the slight hum of the central air conditioning. Yoko Okino used her key to open her front door, and warm light poured out from inside, dispelling some of the dimness outside. She stepped into the entryway, her tense nerves finally relaxing. She let out a long sigh of relief and turned to look at Kanjuro standing at the door, her tone carrying a bit of relieved coquettishness:
"See, Mr. Kanjuro, I told you! There was nothing unusual along the way. You must have been too nervous!" A relaxed smile was on her face, as if she wanted to prove she had won the "bet" and that he was indeed a "gentleman" who had overthought things.
However, as soon as she finished speaking, Kanjuro didn't follow her lead and admit it. Instead, he laughed, a laugh that carried a hint of "as expected" and an unquestionable dominance.
The next second, before Yoko Okino could react at all, Kanjuro suddenly stepped forward. One hand quickly and gently covered her mouth, which was about to let out a low cry of surprise, while the other hand firmly encircled her waist!
"Mmph?!" Yoko's eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to suddenly make such a move, and her body froze instantly.
Kanjuro didn't give her a chance to struggle. Holding her, his steps were swift and silent as he retreated, quickly disappearing into a dim corner next to the entryway that connected to the fire escape. This happened to be a visual blind spot, making it extremely difficult to spot from the corridor.
"Don't make a sound. Look over there," Kanjuro's lowered voice sounded in her ear, his warm breath brushing against her earlobe, carrying an unquestionable command.
Yoko Okino's heart pounded wildly, both because of this sudden intimate contact and because of his words. She followed the direction Kanjuro indicated and carefully peeked out from the corner, looking toward the corridor they had just walked through.
A man wearing a black tracksuit, a baseball cap, and a mask—hiding his face completely—stealthily appeared at the end of the corridor! He was holding a professional camera with a telephoto lens, peeking around and looking toward Yoko Okino's apartment door, seemingly confirming if the target had already entered.
This scene was like ice water being poured over her head, instantly making Yoko Okino's blood run cold! Her previous relaxed and lucky mindset vanished without a trace, replaced by lingering fear and a sense of chill.
(Someone... someone really is following me!)
(If it weren't for Kanjuro...)
She didn't dare think any further.
At the same time, another intense sensation swept over her — Kanjuro's embrace.
To hide in the small corner space, their bodies inevitably pressed tightly together. His arm was steadily wrapped around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. Through a thin layer of clothing, she could clearly feel the warmth and solid strength emanating from his body. The hand that had covered her mouth had loosened, but the lingering warmth of his palm and the strange sense of security it had brought just moments ago refused to dissipate.
A mix of fear, lingering apprehension, and the reassurance of being protected, along with the shyness brought by this overly intimate contact, caused Yoko Okino's cheeks to uncontrollably flush a burning red, spreading all the way to her earlobes. She could even hear their close heartbeats, wondering whose was faster.
Kanjuro lowered his head, looking at the slightly trembling body and flushed profile of the woman in his arms, a knowing smile flashing in his eyes. He maintained the embrace, whispering in her ear in a breathy voice only they could hear, with a hint of playfulness:
"Now, do you still think I was too nervous, Miss Yoko?"
His voice was deep and magnetic, and in this small, dim space, it seemed to carry an electric current that coursed through Yoko's limbs. She didn't answer, merely instinctively shrinking further into his embrace, as if it were the only safe and reliable haven at that moment.
The distant shadow, after lingering and observing for a moment, seemed puzzled by not finding its target. It eventually put away its camera in annoyance and quickly disappeared to the other end of the corridor.
The danger was temporarily averted, but the ambiguous and tense atmosphere in the corner lingered. Kanjuro didn't immediately release her, and Yoko Okino also seemed to have forgotten to break free from this embrace that should have belonged to a'stranger.' In the darkness, their body temperatures and breaths intertwined, brewing an indescribable emotion. In the dim corner, Kanjuro and Yoko Okino clung to each other, hidden in the shadows, clearly seeing the shadowy figure stealthily approach Yoko's apartment door like a ghost. Without hesitation, the person pulled a key from their pocket, skillfully inserted it into the lock, and gently turned it—
"Click."
The door, surprisingly, opened!
The shadow quickly slipped inside, moving as smoothly as if returning home.
Hiding in the shadows, Yoko Okino's pupils instantly constricted, and a chill shot from her feet to her head! (He actually has my key?! )
However, just as the shadow slipped into the room, preparing to begin its 'work,' perhaps wondering why the target wasn't inside as expected, the door, which it had gently closed behind it, let out a soft 'creak.'
The shadow turned back sharply!
At the doorway, Kanjuro stood at ease, a hint of cold mockery on his face. Yoko Okino stood slightly behind Kanjuro, her face pale, her eyes filled with shock, anger, and disbelief, staring fixedly at him.
"!?" The shadow clearly hadn't expected this scene. Its body stiffened abruptly, and it instinctively took half a step back, blurting out, "W-why is it you two?! You shouldn't be..." Its words trailed off as it realized its slip of the tongue.
That voice... Yoko Okino trembled all over. It was a voice she knew intimately, a voice she had trusted for years! She took a sudden step forward, and seizing the moment of the other party's shock and confusion, she reached out and tore off the bothersome mask!
The light from the corridor and inside the room clearly illuminated that face—
A face that could be considered proper, but was now twisted and rigid with the exposure of its plot. It was Yoko Okino's manager, whom she had worked with for many years, whom she had always regarded as her right-hand man, and whom she had trusted implicitly!
"It's... it's you?!" Yoko Okino's voice trembled violently, as if her faith had crumbled. "Mr. Yamada?! Why?! Why are you doing this?!"
Manager Yamada's face instantly turned ashen, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes darted around in panic. But after the initial shock, seeing Yoko Okino's pained expression of betrayal, a desperate, cynical sneer gradually appeared on his face.
"Why? Haha..." His laugh was hoarse and venomous. "You still have the nerve to ask me why? Yoko! The company offered you such great renewal terms, and you're still hesitating! You even secretly contacted other agencies! You want to ditch us and go solo? Dream on!"
He pointed at Yoko Okino, his tone growing more agitated and uglier: "How much effort have I put into you?! You're a cash cow! Now the cow wants to grow legs and run away, how can I allow that?!"
A perverse triumph appeared on his face, as if he was showing off his 'masterpiece': "Since you're ungrateful, don't blame me for being ruthless! I've long planned this, tracking you, knowing your whereabouts and your weaknesses! If you had just renewed your contract, it would have been fine, but if you dared to refuse..."
He grinned sinisterly, his gaze scanning Yoko Okino lewdly, and revealed his most malicious plan:
"I'd find an opportunity, like when you're showering, to secretly install a camera, or sneak in like today... to film your naked body! Expose all your indecent photos! Let's see how you can still be a pure idol! I'll completely destroy you! Ruin your reputation so you'll have no choice but to come back and beg us!"
This series of malicious schemes, like the dirtiest sewage, was splashed onto Yoko Okino's heart. Her face was deathly pale, her body swaying, almost unable to stand. She had never imagined that the person she trusted most would harbor such a vicious heart!
Kanjuro, meanwhile, had watched this ugly farce with cold eyes from beginning to end. He gently supported Yoko Okino, who was almost fainting, his gaze falling on the crazed manager as if looking at a disgusting pile of garbage.
(Human hearts... truly are the most fragile things to test.)
(However, this is also good...)
A barely perceptible, cold arc curved at the corner of his mouth. This crisis had perfectly become an excellent stage for him to display his power and draw this national idol deeper into his control. Manager Yamada's utterly malicious plan was like an ice pick, stabbing fiercely into Yoko Okino's heart. Her face was ashen, her body trembling uncontrollably, and a strong sense of lingering fear and disgust surged within her. Her first thought was the worst outcome, and her voice, trembling with terror, eagerly asked:
"Have you... have you already taken them?! Those... those photos?!"
Kanjuro's eyes turned cold. Without waiting for the manager, who was slumped on the ground, to answer, he swiftly bent down and easily snatched the professional camera from Yamada's hand. He skillfully operated it a few times, brought up the photos, and quickly browsed through them.
Yoko Okino nervously leaned in to look, her breathing almost stopping.
Most of the photos stored in the camera were images of her leaving the concert venue today, getting into the car, and arriving at the apartment building. Although the intent of stalking and secretly filming was obvious, the content was indeed still 'ordinary.' The latest, or rather the most 'intimate,' photo was a profile shot of her and Kanjuro talking downstairs at the apartment building just moments ago. They were a bit close, but in the dim light of the night and streetlights, it couldn't be called ambiguous; it looked more like a normal conversation.
Seeing this, Yoko Okino's tense nerves finally relaxed a little. She clutched her chest and let out a long sigh of relief. Fortunately, the worst had not happened yet.
Yamada, slumped on the ground, saw this and, as if grasping at a last straw, quickly burst into tears, incoherently pleading and begging: "N-no! Yoko, believe me! I really haven't taken anything I shouldn't have! Th-this plan was also just... I was foolish for a moment, and I only started implementing it today! I didn't expect to be discovered so quickly! I was wrong! I truly know I was wrong! Please, for the sake of our many years of cooperation, spare me this one time! I'll apologize to you! I'll kowtow and apologize if I have to!"
As he spoke, he actually made a gesture to kowtow, tears and snot streaming down his face, looking pathetic and miserable.
Yoko Okino looked at him in this state, and remembering their past working relationship, a hint of hesitation flickered in her heart. She was kind by nature, and seeing someone beg so humbly, she couldn't help but feel compassion. "How about... how about we just warn him, make him hand over the key, and promise not to..." She looked at Kanjuro, somewhat wavering, seeking his opinion.
However, Kanjuro's face showed no emotion. He looked down at Yamada, who was like a puddle of mud, his eyes as cold as frost, and his tone resolute and unquestionable:
"Yoko, put away your kindness. For people like him, being soft-hearted is indulgence, and it's the greatest cruelty to yourself."
His words struck Yoko Okino's wavering heart like a heavy hammer.
"If he can come up with such a malicious plan today because you won't renew your contract, tomorrow he might do something even crazier for other benefits. His apology isn't out of remorse, but because he was caught and is afraid of punishment!"
Kanjuro's gaze was sharp as a knife, as if it could pierce through people's hearts.
"Forgive him? Then who will guarantee your future safety? Your privacy? Your career? This time, I luckily stumbled upon it, but what about next time?"
He paused, his tone becoming even more solemn and persuasive:
"For such a villain who meticulously plots to destroy others with the most despicable means, there can be absolutely no leniency! He must be handed over to the law to receive his due punishment! This is the most effective deterrent for him, and for potential imitators. It is also the most fundamental guarantee for your own safety!"
Kanjuro's words were clear, calm, and logically rigorous; each sentence struck at the heart of the matter. He stood on the high ground of absolute rationality, analyzing the pros and cons for Yoko Okino, completely shattering her slight hesitation.
Yoko Okino listened to his words, looking at her former manager on the ground, who, despite begging, still had a hint of unwillingness and malice deep in his eyes. She finally sobered up completely. She realized that Kanjuro was right. Indulging evil was a betrayal of good.
She nodded vigorously, her eyes becoming firm. She no longer looked at Yamada, who was desperately pleading on the ground, but instead looked up at Kanjuro, her eyes filled with trust and reliance:
"You're right, Mr. Kanjuro. I was too naive." She took a deep breath. "Let's call the police. This time, I really owe it all to you."
Her words were filled with the relief of surviving a calamity, and an ever-deepening trust and gratitude for the young man who had saved her from danger time and again.
Kanjuro looked at the complete trust in her eyes, nodded slightly, and took out his phone, ready to dial the police. His cold gaze swept over Yamada, whose face was ashen, without any ripple in his heart.
(See? Salvation and destruction both lead to the same endpoint—absolute control.)
(This gratitude and dependence will become the strongest shackles.)
In the night, a storm stirred by betrayal and conspiracy was, under Kanjuro's manipulation, concluding in the most advantageous direction for him. And Yoko Okino, this dazzling star, had the shadows beneath her light quietly merging with Kanjuro's darkness.
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