[~1700 Words]
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The living room of the Suzuki estate fell deathly quiet the moment Fujiwara Takuya finished speaking.
He hadn't raised his voice. He hadn't needed to.
With one elegant sweep of his finger toward the old butler standing rigid by the grandfather clock, Takuya laid out the entire murder like he was reading tomorrow's weather forecast.
"It's simple. The murderer is the butler. As for the evidence and motives, I've already investigated everything thoroughly."
"The murder weapon was the antique letter opener from the study—still in the victim's chest when we arrived. You wiped your prints but forgot the smudge on the handle matches the oil you use on your reading glasses every evening. The timeline? You claimed you were polishing silver in the pantry at 11:17 p.m., but the security footage shows the pantry light flickering off at 11:09. You needed those eight minutes to climb the back stairs, stab your granddaughter, and return before the alarm reset."
The old man's knees buckled halfway through the explanation.
The butler's body trembled violently. Every word struck true, and the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. He wanted to argue, to deny it—but no words came out.
Before Takuya had even finished speaking, the old butler collapsed to his knees with a look of utter despair.
"It's all his fault… all his fault…" he sobbed. "She was my granddaughter, after all…"
Anger and grief twisted his features as tears streamed down his face. He began recounting the motive behind the murder, his voice breaking again and again.
Fujiwara Takuya listened silently from the side. Whatever the reason, once the confession was complete, the man would be taken away.
Then Takuya nodded once, almost gently. "That's enough. Takagi, Chiba—take him in."
The two officers moved in smoothly, cuffs clicking like punctuation.
Nearby, Kudo Shinichi stared in disbelief, convinced he must have misheard something.
The butler… confessed? Just like that?
Why had he never encountered something like this? The criminal admitted everything before a single piece of evidence was even presented.
They hadn't even waited for Takuya to produce proof.
In Shinichi's experience, even when suspects were cornered with ironclad evidence, they would still deny everything to the bitter end.
That was what an actual murderer was like.
Yet here, with only a few words, the culprit had already surrendered.
"Why did you admit it?" Shinichi couldn't help asking. "The officer hasn't even shown any evidence yet, and you're already confessing?"
The butler froze mid-sob. He slowly lifted his head and looked at Fujiwara Takuya with a stunned expression.
"That's right… you didn't give me any evidence. Then why did I just admit it?"
Thud.
Shinichi and one of the policemen nearly fell over on the spot.
This man was… unbelievably stupid. Stupid to the point of being almost endearing—and yet he had confessed without hesitation.
Suzuki Shiro was equally speechless.
How had someone like this been hired as the Suzuki family's butler?
The corner of Fujiwara Takuya's lips curved upward faintly.
Without presenting a single piece of evidence, the murderer had knelt down and confessed. Truly, a gift from the system.
"Alright," Takuya said calmly. "Since you've admitted everything, come with me."
He waved his hand. Officers Takagi and Chiba immediately stepped forward, flanking the butler from both sides and preparing to escort him away.
"No! This is unfair! Completely unfair!"
The butler suddenly snapped back to his senses. Since no evidence had been shown, he naturally wanted to retract his confession.
Maybe… maybe Fujiwara Takuya didn't have any evidence at all.
Kudo Shinichi nearly exploded in frustration. Losing to someone like this was humiliating beyond words.
Damn it. His fifth defeat.
Suzuki Shiro, on the other hand, nodded in satisfaction.
An S-level talent, indeed. Simply outstanding.
Finding the murderer took only moments.
No wonder he was rated so highly. If his wife were to bear a child with someone like this, the offspring would undoubtedly be exceptional.
The only problem was Suzuki Tomoko.
How could he persuade her?
Should he say it directly? Wife, I want a child, but I no longer have the ability—please help me give birth to one.
She'd probably slap him.
Well… maybe not. Tomoko lacked the courage to do that. In the Suzuki household, Shiro still had the final say.
Still, forcing her wouldn't work. He needed an excuse—one she could accept.
Under normal circumstances, Suzuki Tomoko would never agree. Shiro had no idea, however, that his wife was far from normal anymore.
Any woman would feel unbearably lonely after ten years without intimacy.
Even Kudo Yukiko had lasted only half a year before completely falling under Takuya's charm—becoming even more indulgent than he was at times.
"President Suzuki, the case is solved. I'll take my leave."
Fujiwara Takuya gave a polite nod and left with his men.
Though he wanted to deal with Suzuki Shiro's wife immediately, there were too many people present.
Better to wait.
Sooner or later, Suzuki Shiro would come to him of his own accord—with Suzuki Tomoko.
Suzuki Shiro watched Takuya leave, his gaze flickering with anticipation. He couldn't wait to complete the task.
Lifespan, here I come!!!
Nearby, Kudo Shinichi clenched his fists.
"Officer Fujiwara, I lost this time… but I'll win next time."
Takuya didn't even turn back.
Tonight, he had other plans.
Having just returned from America, perhaps he should visit Miyano Akemi. He needed to win her over as well.
One child wasn't enough. He needed many.
The same was true for Sato Miwako. As his official girlfriend, she deserved special rewards.
Kisaki Eri was already pregnant, secretly giving birth overseas. If Sato Miwako didn't have his child too, that would be unfair.
Of course, he would never force her.
One day, they would all fall deeply in love with him—willing, even eager, to bear his children.
That night, Suzuki Shiro returned home early—an unusual occurrence.
"Dad, you're back!" Ayako and Sonoko greeted him warmly.
"It's been a while," he said with a nod. "Where's your mother? I need to discuss company matters with her."
Ayako replied, "She's in the office."
"Must be serious," Sonoko muttered.
"Probably another merger," Ayako sighed. "Let's stay out of it. I'm not ready for boardroom drama yet."
Shiro headed upstairs, reaching the second-floor study.
Inside, Suzuki Tomoko was reviewing documents.
Ever since Shiro had lost his ability in bed, the two of them had buried themselves in work.
He monitored her closely, ensuring she never had contact with other men.
Ten years of repression had left Tomoko emotionally and sexually suffocated. The anger inside her only grew.
Give her the right chance—a strong, handsome man—and she would fall without hesitation.
"Shiro, you're back," she said with a polite smile.
"Wife… I need your help with something."
The moment the words left his mouth, Shiro regretted them.
How could he say it?
Go find another man. Pay him. Have a child for me.
Even thinking about it filled him with shame.
But his life was on the line.
"Wife, I want a child. A boy."
"No problem," Tomoko replied reflexively. "We can have another."
Then she froze.
Wait… what?
She knew better than anyone that Suzuki Shiro was infertile.
Could he mean adoption?
Or his brother's child?
Her expression darkened.
"Do you want to adopt… or take your brother's child?"
Shiro immediately realized the misunderstanding.
"No," he said firmly. "I want our own child. But I can't have one… so I need your help."
Tomoko understood—and her confusion deepened.
Was he asking her to sleep with another man?
Was this some twisted test? Or worse… a perversion?
"Hubby, I would never betray you," she said quickly. "Never."
"I'm serious," Shiro insisted. "As long as it's your child, it's my child."
After repeated persuasion, Tomoko finally wavered.
He wouldn't insist like this for no reason… right?
Still, unease lingered.
"Even so," she said hesitantly, "if the child isn't yours, there will be no Suzuki bloodline."
"I've already thought of that," Shiro replied smoothly. "My father had an illegitimate son. We share the same blood."
Tomoko was stunned.
Shiro rushed on before his courage failed completely.
"I found proof of an illegitimate son my father had decades ago. He's young, healthy, carries the bloodline. If you bear his child, it will be legally ours. No one will question the inheritance. The shares, the estate—everything stays in the family."
The lies flowed effortlessly now.
"In that way," he concluded, "our child can inherit everything legitimately."
Suzuki Tomoko fell silent, her heart pounding.
On the surface, she hesitated.
Deep down… anticipation burned quietly within her.
"You're telling me you want me to sleep with your father's secret son… so we can have a legitimate heir?"
Tomoko leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her expression was unreadable.
Inside, though, a long-suppressed ember had caught flame.
Ten years.
Ten years of cold sheets, polite kisses on the cheek, and watching her husband grow softer and rounder while she stayed coiled tight with unmet need.
She had never cheated. Never even considered it.
Suzuki Shiro was still her husband—kind in public, generous with money, never cruel.
But kind men could still leave a woman starving.
And now, this same kind man was handing her a golden key and saying, "Go ahead. For the family."
She could refuse. Slap him. Storm out.
Or…
She could accept.
And perhaps—finally—feel alive again.
He did not know what he'd just unleashed.
But Takuya was going to love it.
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