Click.
Handcuffs snapped shut around the hands that had once dictated the rules of the industry.
The room erupted.
Camera flashes poured down like a waterfall.
No one cared how miserable the former king looked now. Everyone wanted the same thing—an exclusive shot of the moment the old ruler fell.
Amid the chaos, Seiji stood on the stage, looking down as police dragged Ryuichi Mitsui away.
The old man who had been so arrogant moments ago was now disheveled, tears and snot streaming down his face as he shouted hoarsely, "I'm the chairman… I'm the rules…"
No one spared him a second glance.
Every eye, every lens, was locked onto the young victor.
Reporters surged forward, microphones nearly shoved into Seiji's face.
"President Fujiwara! What are Genesis Group's next plans?"
"Are you prepared to take over Mitsui Pharmaceuticals' market share?"
"Do you have anything to say about this industry-wide shakeup?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned and glanced toward the corner, where the chairman of the Headhunter Association, Masakazu Tanaka, stood.
The balding man who had mocked him earlier was now trembling as he hid behind the crowd. When he met Seiji's gaze, his legs gave out and he dropped straight to his knees.
"P-President Fujiwara… this is a misunderstanding… all of it…"
Seiji smiled faintly and looked away.
An apology now was far too late.
"Let's go," he said to Jin beside him. "It's too noisy here."
"Yes, sir." Jin folded the check, tore it up, and rendered it worthless.
The moment Mitsui Pharmaceuticals collapsed, there was no longer anyone to pay the breach penalty.
With a little maneuvering, the money wouldn't need to be paid at all.
All Seiji had done was extract cash flow as leverage and coordinate with the Tokyo prosecutors, landing a relentless series of blows that shattered Mitsui Pharmaceuticals.
They could even profit from the stock price turmoil.
As for swallowing Mitsui Pharmaceuticals whole afterward, that went without saying.
…
…
Tokyo, Minato Ward.
A full week had passed since the shocking "International Convention Center Reversal" that rocked the entire industry.
The gloom that once hung over the Genesis Group headquarters had vanished completely, replaced by a feverish level of activity.
At the driveway entrance, luxury cars lined up one after another.
Suppliers, distributors, and bankers who had avoided this place just a week ago now flooded in like a tide, waving contracts and begging for a chance to meet Genesis's procurement director.
Top floor, president's office.
Seiji stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking traffic that looked like ants scurrying below. He held a glass of iced water, his expression almost unnervingly calm.
"President, these are today's visitors."
Executive Director Ito entered, his face glowing, all traces of his former dejection gone.
He placed a thick folder on the desk, excitement clear in his voice. "Mitsui Pharmaceuticals is in complete chaos. With their core team joining us, our stock has jumped forty percent in just a week. Mitsui's shares have hit the daily limit down three times already."
"Just now, an executive from Sumitomo Life Sciences called. He hinted they're willing to leave the industry alliance and supply us with the highest-purity reagents at cost—as long as we don't touch their talent pool."
Seiji turned, glanced at the list, and said flatly, "Tell them to cut the price further. If they want to sign, they'll sign."
Ito blinked, then laughed in understanding. "Got it. We're the ones calling the shots now."
"There's one more thing."
The smile faded from Ito's face, replaced by a trace of disdain. "That Headhunter Association chairman, Masakazu Tanaka… he's kneeling in the lobby downstairs. Has been there for two hours."
"Oh?" Seiji raised an eyebrow, as if just remembering him. "What does he want?"
"He says he's here to beg forgiveness. Claims he only blacklisted Genesis because Ryuichi Mitsui threatened him, that he was a victim too. The board has already impeached him. He's asking you to show mercy, to give him a way out—even a position at one of Genesis's subsidiaries."
Ito paused. "Security tried to remove him, but he clung to a pillar and refused to let go, insisting on seeing you. With people coming and going, it's not a good look…"
Seiji set down his glass and adjusted his cuffs.
"Then let's go take a look."
"I'd like to see how a dog with its teeth pulled wags its tail."
…
First-floor lobby.
The marble floor gleamed like a mirror. Passing white-collar elites instinctively detoured around the central pillar.
Kneeling there was a balding middle-aged man.
Masakazu Tanaka—once a figure who controlled the fate of tens of thousands of top-tier talents across Japan—was now prostrated on the floor, forehead pressed firmly to the cold marble.
His suit was wrinkled, tie crooked, sweat soaking through his back.
Employees and visitors pointed and whispered as they passed, but he seemed deaf to it all, muttering mechanically, "President Fujiwara… please… please…"
Ding.
The private elevator doors opened.
An invisible pressure swept across the lobby. The noise died down, and the crowd parted to form a clear path.
When Tanaka saw those familiar handcrafted leather shoes, he jerked his head up.
His face was smeared with tears and mucus, his eyes filled with fear and desperate flattery. He scrambled forward, trying to grab Seiji's pant leg.
"President Fujiwara! I'm guilty! I'm a piece of trash!" he wailed. "But I was forced! Ryuichi Mitsui threatened my future! I can give Genesis my entire database! Please… please spare me…"
He knew what being blacklisted meant.
That kind of life—reduced overnight to a stray, barely surviving in the shadows—was a fall only someone like Jin could endure.
And Jin endured it because he had a gravely ill daughter holding him together.
Tanaka had nothing like that.
He knew that once he was blacklisted, there was only one end for him—mentally and in reality alike.
"Hmm."
Seiji stopped.
He lowered his gaze slightly, looking at the man writhing at his feet like a worm.
"Mr. Tanaka."
He chuckled softly. "You seem to have misunderstood something."
"W-What?" Tanaka froze, hope flooding his face.
"I've never cared who's an enemy or who's a friend."
Seiji stepped past him and continued forward. "I only care about who has value."
"When you held the blacklist in your hand, you were a wolf. Tied to Mitsui, sure, but you still had teeth. Back then, you were a worthy opponent."
"But now…"
He didn't look back. He just waved his hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
"You're nothing but a stray dog with its spine broken, tossed out by its owner."
"Genesis doesn't keep trash."
"And a worthless stray should fall with its master, shouldn't it?"
With that, Seiji walked out of the lobby without another glance.
Behind him, Ito signaled the head of security.
"Throw him out."
"Yes, sir!"
Two burly guards hoisted the limp Tanaka and dragged him toward the revolving doors like a sack of garbage.
No one in the lobby pitied him.
The suppliers waiting in line to sign contracts watched in silence, awe settling deep in their hearts.
They understood now: in this new business empire, the young president wielded an iron hand even colder and more absolute than Ryuichi Mitsui ever had.
…
…
Afternoon sunlight filtered through neatly trimmed hedges, spilling onto a red-brick path.
This was a quiet corner unique to an elite girls' academy.
Soyo Nagasaki sat alone on a white bench.
She wore Tsukinomori's signature dark uniform, chestnut hair draped smoothly over her shoulders. A flawless, gentle smile rested on her face as she returned greetings from passing classmates.
"Bye, Soyo."
"See you tomorrow. Be careful on the way home."
Only when everyone had left did her smile peel away like a poorly fitted mask, revealing the gloom beneath.
She took out her phone and opened a chat she had pinned long ago, one that hadn't received a reply in ages.
Her conversation with Sakiko Toyokawa.
The screen was filled with messages she'd sent on her own:
"Sakiko-chan, how have you been lately?"
"Everyone's still waiting for you."
"Even if it's just once, let's meet. Whatever's wrong, we can solve it together."
"We're… partners for life, aren't we?"
None of them had that reassuring "read" mark.
Her fingers brushed the screen, knuckles paling from the pressure.
"Why…" she murmured, her voice soft enough to sound intimate, yet chilling. "Why are you hiding, Sakiko?"
She'd gone to Sakiko's old home—the mansion in the wealthy district—but it had already changed owners.
The new residents said the former owner had moved out long ago, destination unknown.
She'd asked Mutsumi Wakaba too, but the doll-like girl had only shaken her head in silence.
The trail had gone cold.
The Sakiko Toyokawa who once shone so brightly, who brought everyone together, had vanished from the world.
"If you don't come back, everyone can't go back to how things were."
Soyo looked up at the scattered clouds in the sky.
There was no resignation in her eyes. Only a sickly Persistence.
"But that's fine."
She put her phone away, slipped her gentle mask back on, stood up, and smoothed her skirt.
"As long as you're still in Tokyo, I'll find you."
"And then… I'll bring you back. Whether you want it or not."
…
…
Genesis Medical Group.
Creak—
The heavy rosewood door opened, revealing Jin's perpetually expressionless face.
"Boss."
He entered and placed a file on the desk.
"The restructuring at Genesis Media is complete. I persuaded a few old freeloaders to leave. The rest are behaving."
Seiji flipped through the file as he asked, "What about the new general manager? Adapting well?"
"Rie Nagasaki."
Jin's eyes flickered with amusement. "An interesting woman. Very capable, decisive, and tough. In three days, she's already put the veterans who tried to test her in their place. But…"
"But what?" Seiji looked up.
"She seems eager to prove herself. Maybe the bankruptcy of her last company rattled her, or maybe it's the pressure of being a single mother."
He continued, "Either way, her sense of belonging to Genesis is almost excessive. She even requested a budget from General Affairs to renovate the general manager's office—for your inspection."
Seiji raised an eyebrow and turned to her profile.
The photo showed a woman with smooth flaxen curls and refined, mature features. Fine lines traced the corners of her eyes, but instead of aging her, they added a seasoned charm. Her gaze was confident and gentle, the sharp competence of a career woman shining through.
Looking at it, another face surfaced in his mind.
Soyo Nagasaki.
The same flaxen hair, the same gentle mask. The daughter carried a fragile quality that stirred protectiveness, while the mother radiated a maturity that invited conquest.
"An inspection?" Seiji smiled.
"Since she's so sincere, we'll indulge her."
He had no particular interest in Rie Nagasaki—but Miss Soyo Nagasaki was another matter entirely.
"Yes, sir. I'll inform her." Jin bowed and left.
After finishing his work, Seiji left Genesis Medical and returned home.
…
…
Today was a day off, so Sakiko wasn't at school.
When Seiji got home, he saw a slender figure standing out on the terrace.
It was Sakiko.
She wore a perfectly tailored kimono and was trimming a flower arrangement.
Snip.
The scissors closed, severing an extra rose branch, which fell to the floor.
Her movements were steady, focused.
But when Seiji's gaze landed on her, the fingers holding the scissors stiffened for just a moment.
"Sakiko," he called.
She set the scissors down and turned with a sigh. "I'm here."
"Come with me to Genesis Media tomorrow," he said, studying her with a hand on his chin. "You'll be my personal secretary."
Her brows knit slightly.
Personal secretary?
In their world, that term often carried an unspoken meaning.
Serving tea was the least of it. More often, it meant providing far more private services when the boss desired them—especially in semi-public settings, in proper offices.
She was smart.
She understood exactly what that implied.
If this were the old Sakiko Toyokawa, she would've smashed the vase into his face and called him a pervert.
But now, she only lowered her gaze. Long lashes hid the flicker of resignation in her eyes.
"I understand."
She picked up the scissors again, trimming an already perfect arrangement. "I'll prepare."
She'd already sold herself to him.
Indulging a bit of roleplay was only natural.
"Oh, right."
As if remembering something, he added casually, "Rie Nagasaki has a daughter. Her name's Soyo Nagasaki. I hear she's your friend?"
Snip!
This time, the scissors slipped.
A fully bloomed red rose was cut clean through, the blossom rolling across the carpet.
Sakiko snapped her head up, panic flashing in her eyes.
"Th-That…" Her voice finally trembled. "This has nothing to do with Soyo. She doesn't know anything."
Even though they'd cut ties, even though Soyo kept pestering her…
She didn't want to drag anyone else into this.
"I'm just asking." Seiji smiled, though his eyes stayed cold. "Why are you so nervous?"
He stood and walked behind her.
Sakiko instinctively tried to move away, then forced herself to stop.
He reached out and clasped the hand holding the scissors from behind.
His palm was broad and dry, its warmth seeping through her cool skin, making her expression subtly change.