"Investment, huh?"
Shuya took another long look at the mature, intellectual beauty standing in front of him—Yuriko Takagi. "That's actually a pretty interesting way to put it."
Even though he had killer looks and an impressive build, Shuya had never believed his charm was so insane that someone would fall hopelessly in love at first sight and stay that way.
Sure, that might happen with wide-eyed teenage girls who'd never seen the world. But for a woman pushing thirty who'd lived through everything, run a powerful family with iron rules, and come out on top?
No way Yuriko Takagi was that shallow.
Otherwise the Takagi family never would have climbed to the very top of Bedmaster City under her guidance.
But the reason she gave—wanting to invest in him—made perfect sense.
He had to admit it: Yuriko really lived up to her rep as the woman who once owned Wall Street.
Her eye for talent was razor-sharp.
Even though he hadn't shown off on purpose, she'd still spotted his true value and made the cold-blooded decision to ditch the Takagi family completely, staking her entire life on the gamble.
Especially that boldness of hers.
It was next-level.
Not everyone can see an opportunity and go all-in without blinking. That's why so many people spend their lives wishing they could hit the reset button.
Vision. Ability. Determination. And the guts to risk every single chip she had.
Most important of all—she wasn't some pre-leveled maxed-out account.
Yuriko stared straight at Shuya, not dodging his gaze for a second. She was openly radiating the full charm of a sophisticated, intelligent older sister.
A woman like this…
Shuya felt it. Hard.
The problem was, with Shizuka, Saeko, Rei, and even Rika—the ones he'd already decided to contract after just one look—he'd always been the one holding the cards. Those choices had come from real feelings.
But Yuriko's straight-up, no-bullshit approach—pure calculated investment of her whole life—left him a little thrown.
Rationally? Taking in a powerhouse like her would be a massive win for their future.
Emotionally… it might sound a little soft, but deep down he felt some resistance.
"I don't trust you," Shuya said bluntly. "You might invest in me today because you see the upside. But who's to say you won't spot someone better tomorrow and betray me?"
"That's fair."
Yuriko didn't look surprised at all. They'd only just met—distrust was normal. If he'd handed over trust after one pretty speech, she would have thought less of him.
But the fact that he said it out loud proved he was at least interested.
And as a professional investor, the one thing she was best at was exactly this: convincing people to take the plunge.
"Even I can't guarantee my own feelings forever," she said smoothly. "Right now I'm completely sincere, but the future is unpredictable."
"Still… I remember a term from your Tokyo University days—'token of sincerity.'"
"You can set a test for me. Once I pass, you can decide whether to accept my investment. Or you could plant some kind of leverage on me—something so damning that betrayal would be more than I could live with."
"Token of sincerity? Test? Leverage?" Shuya thought it over for a second, then asked, "What about the Takagi family?"
"The Takagi family?" Yuriko blinked, then laughed softly. "You might have misunderstood. My ties to them aren't that deep. I was simply repaying a debt of gratitude. And frankly, the Takagi family isn't worth me handing over any real leverage on my own."
Shuya nodded, accepting her words. "In that case, let's leave it to fate."
"Fate?" Yuriko tilted her head, a little confused.
"Exactly," Shuya explained. "I'm going to open your Nen pores. If you successfully awaken Nen and prove your value, I'll accept you. If you die… then that's the end of it."
He'd already thought it through. A test or leverage—both were solid. But leverage didn't feel right for a future contract partner.
So a test it was.
After explaining the basics of Nen and exactly what opening the pores meant…
"Nen abilities? Opening the pores?" Yuriko licked her lips, her heartbeat picking up as she looked at him. "Little Shuya, the surprises just keep getting better and better."
She'd already switched from "classmate" to the much closer "little brother."
Seeing returns before she'd even invested? People would kill to get in on a project like this.
As for the risk?
Everything in life carried risk. You could choke to death drinking water.
"If you fail, you really could die," Shuya said, deliberately emphasizing the danger. "You sure you still want to go through with it?"
"Of course."
Yuriko's light-purple eyes locked onto his. She smiled gently, her gaze curving like crescent moons. "Besides, I trust that my little Shuya won't have the heart to let big sister die, right?"
Deadly.
She was right—opening the pores wasn't guaranteed fatal.
As long as he closed them again before her life energy completely drained, she wouldn't die.
She'd just lose any future chance of ever awakening Nen.
The first opening was the only real shot. Fail that, and it was game over forever.
Since she'd already seen through him, Shuya didn't hide the rest. He told her the truth.
First, to put real pressure on her.
Second, to make it crystal clear: if she failed to prove her value, whether he saved her would be entirely up to his mood.
The fake test: successfully awaken Nen and prove her worth.
The real test: whether she was willing to put her life completely in his hands even knowing the danger.
That's why he didn't mention the contract seed. Even if she failed the awakening, signing the contract would still let her learn Nen properly later.
Shuya watched her quietly, waiting for her answer.
Under his calm stare, Yuriko's smile faltered for just a second.
Her instincts screamed that he was probably telling the truth.
If she failed to awaken Nen after he opened her pores… she might actually die.
Yuriko swallowed hard and forced the words out. "Do it."
"Good."
Shuya didn't waste any more time. A mass of aura gathered in his palm as he slowly pressed it toward her head.
As his hand drew closer, even Yuriko—who thought she'd weathered every storm life could throw at her—felt her heart start racing.
Having her life completely in someone else's hands… this feeling was brand new.
Yuriko stared hard at Shuya's face the entire time.
Success would flood her with overwhelming joy.
Failure—followed by rescue—would flood her with massive relief.
She understood the psychology perfectly. In the middle of that wild emotional swing, whether she passed or failed, there was a very high chance she'd end up falling for him.
In psychology, they called it the suspension bridge effect.
She didn't mind one bit.