After happiness came endless emptiness.
Miyajima Tsubaki recalled the absurd thoughts she had while DIYing alone in bed last night, and her cheeks burned.
Seriously, what was she even doing...
Not only was that child more than twenty years younger than her, but he was also her daughter's crush... To reward herself with such 'terrible' scenarios, would her conscience truly not ache?
Miyajima Tsubaki stood in the yard, her hand gripping the broom trembling involuntarily.
She instinctively reached out to touch her generous conscience... It hurt.
Then her hand unconsciously moved down to the mysterious nether regions, but since it hadn't been used for years, the sealed-off area felt as if it had a layer of cobwebs, and that would hurt too.
Is it to pursue conscience, or to pursue excitement?
↑ That is the question.
"Tsubaki, what are you doing?"
Miyajima Kiichiro's strong and powerful voice reached Miyajima Tsubaki, who was lost in thought.
Miyajima Tsubaki immediately shuddered.
Conscience, of course, conscience is important.
If she only pursued pleasure and enjoyment, what kind of Miyajima person would she be?
Strictly demanding of oneself, that was the Miyajima style. ← This was her father's teaching from a young age, and what she did last night clearly went against such teaching.
Perhaps it could be said that in these three or four decades, she had never been so unrestrained, both in thought and in body.
A sense of guilt arose spontaneously.
But the pleasure of knowing the taste of something followed closely behind.
"Lately, you've been spacing out more and more often." Miyajima Kiichiro's brows furrowed.
"...Yes." Miyajima Tsubaki quickly lowered her gaze in self-reflection.
Miyajima Kiichiro opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But in the end, he held back.
Alas, the world is not peaceful these days... Perhaps his daughter was still worried about her scoundrel elder brother. But what could he do to comfort her? He said, 'You can leave things to this old man,' but he still hadn't come up with a strong solution.
"Oh, is that Mr. Kiichiro?"
Just as Miyajima Kiichiro was deep in worry,
A jarring voice vibrated his eardrums.
Just that one sentence made Miyajima Kiichiro's hair stand on end.
The visitor meant no good.
And the reason he was instantly on guard was not because it was the voice of a'strongman,' but rather...
He turned his head to look.
Standing outside the courtyard wall was a thin, yellow-haired young man.
...He could barely be considered a young man; he looked to be around thirty, with rough, dark skin.
The wall, about one and a half meters high, just managed to block his body, allowing only his head to be seen as he conversed with Miyajima Kiichiro.
However, before Kiichiro could respond,
The yellow-haired man's gaze fell on Miyajima Tsubaki, who stood beside him, her figure curvaceous.
He grinned, revealing a set of smoke-stained yellow teeth.
Then he continuously scanned Miyajima Tsubaki's charming face, slender waist, and...
Miyajima Kiichiro immediately sensed the lurking danger.
Indeed, his voice was not that of a strongman, but it was extremely sinister and malicious.
Compared to a fierce tiger, this person in front of him was more like... a venomous snake.
Kiichiro immediately stepped in front of his daughter, blocking the man's view.
"It is I, who are you!?"
The young man withdrew his gaze with interest, and said with a twisted mouth, "My name... is 'Snake Mound George.' I presume you've heard of me, old man?"
Kiichiro's aged eyes widened instantly, and at the same time, his teeth clenched.
"...You are Snake Mound...!?"
"That's right." Snake Mound George admitted generously. He nodded: "Mr. Kiichiro, is your Miyajima so impolite? A guest has arrived at your door, and you don't know to invite him in to sit?"
"Heh, our Miyajima doesn't have guests like you." Miyajima Kiichiro sneered.
"Ah, Mr. So and I are old acquaintances." Snake Mound George shrugged, saying with a lack of interest.
"Mr. So..." At the mention of this name, a hint of gloom flashed in Kiichiro's eyes.
"Dad..." Miyajima Tsubaki softly called out.
"Ha, I presume this is Ms. Tsubaki? Indeed, just as Mr. So said, she possesses a beauty that would overshadow the moon and shame flowers. I heard... you also have a daughter?"
"Silence!"
Miyajima Kiichiro roared, "Tsubaki, do not speak. And... I do not know anyone named 'Mr. So.'"
"Old man, there's no need to deceive yourself. Brother Mr. So is your own flesh and blood... Blood is thicker than water, you know." Snake Mound George said.
"Heh." Miyajima Kiichiro let out a cold laugh.
He just stared at Snake Mound George, saying nothing more.
"Old man, are you really not going to invite me in to sit?" Snake Mound George narrowed his cloudy eyes: "That's truly a pity. I originally had many things I wanted to chat about with you. Since I'm not welcome, I'll take my leave..."
With that, he turned to leave.
Miyajima Kiichiro held back, but finally spoke:
"Wait a moment."
"Dad...?" Tsubaki was puzzled.
"Tsubaki, you go inside first." Miyajima Kiichiro commanded without room for argument: "Also, Serpent Mound, you wait outside. I'll go out and talk to you."
Miyajima Kiichiro had long known that the core of the 'Miyajima Mr. So Incident' was not 'Miyajima Mr. So,' but this fellow named 'Snake Mound George.'
Snake Mound George turned back, shrugging.
He made no comment.
But he stopped his departing steps.
Miyajima Tsubaki and Miyajima Kiichiro walked back from the backyard to the main house together.
"Dad, you're going to..." Tsubaki wanted to say something, but she was stopped by Kiichiro.
"Don't worry, Tsubaki, nothing will happen." Kiichiro looked at her gently for a moment.
Then he put his hands into his wide sleeves.
He composed himself, then suddenly straightened his slightly hunched back, and walked straight out.
"Serpent Mound."
Miyajima Kiichiro walked out the door and had just called Snake Mound George's name.
Before he could say anything else, three or four burly men surrounded him.
"Mr. Kiichiro, you are a master of Kendo, a martial arts expert." Snake Mound George said, spreading his hands: "I brought a few friends along for self-defense. This, is very reasonable, isn't it?"
Miyajima Kiichiro's falcon-like gaze was restrained, and he lowered his head, chuckling softly.
Suddenly,
With a 'whoosh' sound.
His hand, like an eagle's claw, swiftly and lightning-fast, seized Snake Mound George's throat.
"...Gak." Snake Mound George was caught off guard, letting out a miserable cry like a duck.
"As a master of Kendo and a martial arts expert, I don't put your few friends in my eyes. This, is also very reasonable, isn't it?" Miyajima Kiichiro gritted his teeth, revealing an aggressive and fierce expression that did not match his age.
Immediately, the force in his hand gradually increased.
And Snake Mound George's expression became increasingly grim.
His friends looked at each other, completely unsure of what to do next.
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