Deep night in the mansion, silent as the bottom of a well.
Ai Hayasaka lay on the bed, her eyes blank as she stared up at the excessively ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
The chandelier wasn't lit, but in the moonlight seeping through the window, every perfectly cut crystal refracted cold, fractured points of light, like countless prying eyes silently scrutinizing her.
She couldn't sleep.
The moment she closed her eyes, two faces would surface alternately in her darkened vision.
One belonged to Kaguya Shinomiya.
These past few days, Lady Kaguya had grown very quiet.
She still appeared in the Student Council Room punctually each day, processed documents with elegant posture and a cold expression, as though nothing had happened.
But Ai Hayasaka knew. Everything had changed.
She could see how Lady Kaguya, while reviewing documents, would occasionally drift off without realizing it, those eyes once bright as obsidian losing focus, turning hollow and dim.
In corners where no one was watching, the young lady would unconsciously hug her own arms tight, as if warding off some invisible cold.
It wasn't sadness. It was something deeper.
It was the mark left behind when something once pure and untouched had been forcibly defiled, a stain that could never be washed away.
The other face belonged to that girl named Kei Shirogane.
This afternoon, when the maid had led her into the parlor, Ai Hayasaka had been there.
She had seen that girl's eyes. The kind of look where even despair had faded away, leaving only a numb emptiness.
That gaze had pierced into Ai Hayasaka's heart like an icicle.
Because in those eyes, she had seen the possible future of herself and Lady Kaguya.
A sense of helplessness wound around her heart like ivy, tightening and tightening, until she could hardly breathe.
In front of Seiji Fujiwara, these so-called "daughters of heaven" were nothing more than collectibles in a display case, to be taken out or discarded at his whim.
Today it was her. Tomorrow it might be someone else.
Resistance?
Ai Hayasaka had never seen so clearly before how ridiculous "resistance" was in the face of absolute power.
That man didn't even have to lift a finger himself. He only had to entertain the thought, and the families behind them would trip over each other to package them up and deliver them to the altar.
They were tools.
This was the creed she had been instructed in since childhood.
But she had never imagined a day would come when they would be reduced from "useful tools" to mere "playthings."
A tool, at least, retained the value of being used.
A plaything, once one grew bored of it, was simply cast aside like a worn-out shoe.
No.
She couldn't go on like this.
Ai Hayasaka sat bolt upright in bed, a flash of resolve in her eyes.
She couldn't just wait to die. She had to do something.
For Lady Kaguya, and for herself.
She had to prove her "value" again, prove that she wasn't merely a body that could please a man at any moment, but rather a tool... one that could bring him profit.
She would gamble!
Silently, Ai Hayasaka slid off the bed and, from the deepest compartment of her wardrobe, retrieved a heavily encrypted, military-grade ultra-thin laptop.
Without connecting to any network, she opened an isolated piece of software meant for data modeling.
The pale blue glow of the screen lit her delicate, serious face.
Her fingers began to fly across the keyboard, producing a stream of fine, crisp tapping sounds.
She was fabricating a report.
A "major crisis report" concerning the bio-regeneration research project being jointly undertaken by the Shinomiya Family and the company under Seiji Fujiwara.
Using the genuine data she had access to within her clearance as a foundation, she constructed a false but utterly convincing model of a financial vulnerability.
At the same time, she forged a "resignation tendency risk assessment" for the core technical personnel, and even used German technical jargon, like "Systemische Anfälligkeit" (systemic vulnerability), to label several key "technical bottlenecks" that she had deliberately exaggerated.
Every figure, every curve, had been worked over again and again.
This report could fool most people.
She believed that as long as that man was willing to take the time to read it through, he would see the "value" she could demonstrate, value far beyond that of an ordinary maid.
This was her only lifeline.
She had to win the bet.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the mansion, inside the private kendo dojo.
In the vast hall, only a few floor lamps were lit, the dim lighting creating an atmosphere of solemn dignity, like that of a shrine.
Seiji Fujiwara sat cross-legged on the spotless wooden floor.
Before him, Saeko Busujima knelt in the formal seiza position.
She was dressed in a sacred miko outfit, white robe and scarlet hakama. The garment set her off like a divine messenger stepping out of myth, untouched by any trace of the mortal world.
She was tending to Seiji Fujiwara's blade.
The sword was long and slender, and even in the dim light it carried a chill gleam that struck at the heart.
Saeko Busujima dipped a piece of deerskin in specially prepared blade oil and meticulously wiped down every inch of the steel.
Seiji kept his eyes closed, savoring the tranquility of the moment and the unique scent that filled the air, a mingling of blade oil and the fragrance of the maiden's body.
A distinctive buzz broke the silence of the dojo.
It was the encrypted private phone.
Seiji opened his eyes and gestured for Saeko to continue.
He picked up the phone and saw the meeting request from Ai Hayasaka, worded in terms of utmost urgency.
"Komplikation..."
He looked at the German word, and a faint, almost imperceptible curve rose at the corner of his mouth.
He didn't even bother trying to imagine what kind of report Ai Hayasaka had cooked up.
A flicker of thought.
[Eye of the Financial Predator], activated.
In an instant, the world before his eyes was overlaid with vast streams of data. His gaze pierced through space and locked precisely onto the massive data model of the "Shinomiya conglomerate."
The branch of data streams representing the bio-regeneration project laid itself out clearly before him.
Abundant funding, stable technological reserves, settled personnel...
Everything was as healthy as a newborn infant.
The golden light in Seiji's eyes slowly faded.
He saw everything.
That little blonde kitten, after a brief stint of fear and submission, had ultimately, unwilling to accept it, bared her claws.
Only this time, she had chosen not direct resistance, but a more clever, roundabout strategy: trying to trade "created value" for status.
Naïve.
But also amusing.
He set the phone down, his gaze returning to the devout "miko" before him, still absorbed in the care of his famous blade.
Saeko sensed her master's attention. Her wiping grew more gentle still, and even her breathing she deliberately slowed.
Seiji reached out and softly stroked her smooth purple hair, his voice flat as he spoke.
"Saeko."
"There's a pet who has forgotten who put the collar on her neck."
...
...
Shuchiin Academy, Student Council Room.
The afternoon sun spilled lazily across the floor.
Kaguya Shinomiya sat in her usual seat, working through documents, but her efficiency was much slower than usual.
Ai Hayasaka stood behind her, preparing her black tea.
Kaguya looked out the window, then suddenly spoke, a trace of weariness barely audible in her voice. "Hayasaka, did you not sleep well last night?"
Ai Hayasaka's hand, holding the teacup, paused slightly.
"Of course not, milady." She instantly composed her expression, a perfect and gentle smile rising to her face.
Kaguya turned her head and looked at her.
Ai Hayasaka had on light makeup, but it still couldn't completely conceal the faint dark circles under her eyes, nor the fatigue and bloodshot redness she couldn't hide deep in her gaze.
Kaguya's heart was pricked with a quiet pain.
She reached out and took the hot tea Ai Hayasaka handed her, the warmth traveling through her fingertips.
"Hayasaka, you've been too tired lately."
"Has the family... given you another difficult task?"
The "family" Kaguya spoke of referred, of course, to the Shinomiya Main Family, and to that man who had personally pushed the two of them into the abyss.
Ai Hayasaka's heart suddenly warmed.
But what followed was an even deeper sorrow.
She knew that Lady Kaguya was worried about her.
But she couldn't say anything.
She couldn't tell her that tonight she would be making a desperate gamble with both of their futures on the line.
She forced a smile and took back the empty teacup Kaguya returned to her.
"It's nothing, milady."
Her voice was soft, yet carried a trace of self-hypnotizing certainty that even she herself didn't notice.
"Everything is under my control."
...
...
Night, deeper now.
Seiji Fujiwara's study was nothing like it had been the last time Ai Hayasaka had been "summoned."
The main lights were off, and most of the room was hidden in a thick, ink-like darkness.
Only a single cold spotlight came down from the ceiling, casting a lonely, painfully bright circle on the expensive Persian rug at the center of the room.
Like a stage.
A stage prepared specifically for the performer of a one-woman show, with no way to escape.
And Seiji Fujiwara was concealed in the darkness beyond that stage.
Ai Hayasaka stood at the very center of the spotlight.
She felt like a butterfly pinned to a specimen board. All her disguises and calculations were laid bare under this beam of light, with nowhere to hide.
Cold, isolated, scrutinized...
Tremendous pressure pressed in from every direction, like the water pressure of the deep sea.
Her palms had already begun to slick with a fine layer of cold sweat.
But she knew she had no retreat.
Ai Hayasaka drew in a deep breath, her chest rising slightly. The mental discipline she had been trained in from childhood, like that of an elite operative, forced down the fear and unease in her heart.
Onto her face, once more, she fastened the professional, capable mask.
"Mr. Fujiwara, good evening. Thank you for granting me this opportunity to report to you in person."
From the darkness, no response came.
There was only the crisp sound of ice clinking against the wall of a glass.
Clink.
That sound stabbed into Ai Hayasaka's taut nerves like a cold needle.
She didn't dare hesitate any further and went straight to the matter at hand.
"Mr. Fujiwara, what I have to report tonight concerns Project Prometheus, the bio-regeneration project being jointly advanced by the Shinomiya conglomerate and your subsidiary Amaterasu Pharmaceuticals, and the potential risks it carries."
Her voice was steady and professional, betraying no flaw.
"According to the latest intelligence I have obtained, the core technical barriers of this project are far more serious than what has been publicly disclosed. The success rate of its critical cellular induced differentiation has, in the three most recent secret trials, fallen consecutively below the theoretical threshold of forty percent."
As she spoke, Ai Hayasaka drew a miniature projector from her pocket and cast a complex data model onto the carpet before her.
"This is the Level A risk report on the project. Please take a look."
While speaking, she pulled up the alarming data she had so carefully forged.
"More serious still, I have discovered that the team within the Shinomiya Family responsible for this project, in order to cover up the technical stagnation and maintain the project's rating, and thereby secure the next round of capital injection from you, has begun making 'rationalized' embellishments on the financial statements."
"Through non-arm's-length transactions between affiliated subsidiaries, they have skillfully transferred a portion of the R&D costs into other projects. This is the flow-of-funds tracking chart I've drawn. Although they did it very discreetly, I was still able to identify several key nodes..."
From the darkness, still came only dead silence.
Only that clink, clink of ice against glass, like the metronome of an executioner, beat down again and again with precision against Ai Hayasaka's heart.
With every sound, her heartbeat skipped half a beat.
Instinctively, out of the corner of her eye, she swept her gaze toward the corner of the room.
It was empty.
In the past, no matter how complex the situation she faced, as long as Lady Kaguya was beside her, she could always find a sense of security.
But now, only she was here.
Alone, standing on this cold stage, facing the unfathomable judge in the darkness.
She had never felt so isolated, so without backup.
The loneliness and fear made her speech, without her realizing, grow faster and faster.
She began throwing out more data, more complex terminology, trying through this to mask her own inner agitation and panic.
"...In summary, I believe that Project Prometheus already constitutes a potential 'sunk cost' risk. My personal recommendation is that you should immediately activate Plan B, temporarily freezing further capital injection into the Shinomiya Family, and have me, as your secret proxy, go deep into the project itself to conduct a more thorough assessment of its assets and technology..."
Ai Hayasaka's words came to an abrupt halt after the final syllable.
The entire study fell silent again.
Only her slightly hurried breathing, magnified to no end in the empty room.
The strands of hair across her forehead were already soaked with cold sweat, clinging tightly to her skin, sending out a chill against her face.
In her heart, again and again, she told herself:
This is your last chance, Ai Hayasaka.
You have to make him see your value!
You're not a plaything. You're a tool. A useful, irreplaceable tool!
Time passed, second by second.
Every second stretched out as long as a century.
The man in the darkness still did not speak.
He simply remained silent.
With his silence, he stripped away, piece by piece, all of her confidence, her disguises, and her last shred of hope.
Finally.
Seiji Fujiwara slowly rose from the shadows.
He didn't walk toward Ai Hayasaka. Instead, he stepped over to the liquor cabinet to one side and poured himself another drink.
Half of his body was bathed in the halo of the spotlight, the other half still concealed in darkness.
Light and shadow drew a sharp line across his face.
Ai Hayasaka, at last, saw his expression clearly.
It wasn't anger. Nor was it suspicion.
It was something else...
The faint mockery of a man watching a clown putting all his effort into his act on stage.
"Finished?"
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