novelraw Chapter 87 Let's talk about it next year
Chapter 87 Let's talk about it next year
Kirihara Akatsuki "felt" fear, trembling all over: "I...I don't understand, why is this happening?"
Kamio Chowa unleashed her bewitching, wicked, and mad beauty with unbridled abandon, declaring, "Haven't you heard? I'm a madman."
"You can't, you can't shoot!" Kirihara Akatsuki said, her legs trembling. "Madam and the others are nearby. You can't possibly kill someone in front of the Mori family's house! There are police outside. Do you dare to shoot in front of them?"
"I dare," Kamio Chou said with a charming laugh. "You're not even a bastard child of the Mori family. If I kill you, no one will try to seek justice for you. What about the police outside? They'll just arrest a criminal caught in the act. This 'real culprit' will have absolutely nothing to do with me."
"Besides, why do you care what kind of trouble I'll have after you die? When a person dies, it's like a lamp going out; you won't know anything anymore, and you can't care about anything anymore. Once you're dead, you're dead."
Kirihara Akatsuki trembled as she asked, "What will it take for you to let me go?"
Kamio Chowa smiled slightly, feeling that the intimidation had been effective and the time was ripe: "Answer my question."
Kirihara Akira stared at the pistol in front of him, his teeth chattering: "Then go ahead and ask."
After so many twists and turns, Kamio Chowa seemed to have finally gotten her wish and asked with satisfaction, "Tell me, where is Hino Harufumi?"
"Who is Hino Harufumi?" Kirihara Akira continued to play dumb.
"You may have misunderstood my intentions." Kamio Choba sighed softly, as if lamenting the passing of a flower admirer, and said, "I don't necessarily need to get the answer from you. What a pity."
As she spoke, the short woman tightened her grip, releasing the safety from her pistol with a click.
Kirihara Akatsuki was almost in tears: "I really don't know who Hino Harufumi is!"
"What a pity, Kirihara-kun." Kamio Choba turned around and stretched. "You were my first love, and I will always remember you."
A look of ecstasy crossed her face, whether she was waiting for the impending gunshots, the splattering blood, the exploding heads, or for Kirihara Akira to beg for mercy without hesitation.
But... there was nothing there, and a brief, eerie silence fell behind her.
Behind her, Kirihara Akira's hand unexpectedly climbed onto the petite woman's neck.
He gradually exerted force with his five fingers, like a tightening hydraulic clamp, causing the soft flesh to cave in.
The gun in her hand was pressed against Kirihara Akira's head, the cold metal causing excruciating pain.
Strangely, Kirihara Akira's other hand was free, but she didn't try to grab the gun.
He leaned close to the masked woman's ear and said, "Don't resist your will to live. Forget the orders she gave you. If you forget, you won't suffer anymore."
"If I fire, the bullet will instantly pierce my skull, my hand might loosen, and your breathing will immediately become unobstructed."
"shot."
"shot--"
"shot!"
No shots were fired.
There was only one call.
"Young Master."
Kirihara Akatsuki abruptly released her grip, raised her head, and cast a lingering madness in her eyes at the speaker: "Kawasaki."
"Young Master, it's getting late. You should go back and rest." Kawasaki bowed deeply, said this, and then turned and left as if he hadn't noticed the conflict at all.
Kirihara Akira glanced at the woman coughing violently against the vehicle, then at the gun in her hand, before turning her gaze to Kamio Chouha, who had turned back around, and said coldly:
"It's a pity I didn't die, which means you're either not as crazy as you seem."
"Either your madness isn't outward enough, you still have attachments and concerns, you need to hide your madness even deeper."
"A yakuza boss with ties and concerns, tsk." Kirihara Akira sighed, his sarcasm almost crossing the line of language, turning into a sharp thorn aimed at Kamio Chouha.
As Kamio Chowa looked at Kirihara Akira, an unnatural flush appeared on her face. It was definitely not an expression of anger, but rather... excitement!
She cupped her cheeks in her hands and said, "As expected, I wasn't wrong. I didn't misjudge you. You're more interesting than I imagined. You're the same kind of person as me."
She quickened her pace, coming close enough for Kirihara Akira to smell a faint, decadent, intoxicating scent emanating from her, mingled with the aroma of alcohol: "You were my first love. Will I be your first love?"
Kirihara Akira looked at her without flinching, her eyes growing even colder, and said, "Who could possibly date you?"
"You know, we're the same kind of people. We can give it a try. I've found that I've fallen for you." Kamio Chowa showed unnatural excitement.
"Perhaps what you like isn't me, but yourself—the ability to uncover certain secrets about me."
Kirihara Akira sneered, then decisively turned and left.
This sentence revealed Kamio Chowa's true nature, but she seemed even more excited, gazing dreamily at his retreating figure, and shouted loudly, "We'll see each other very often in the future."
......
......
Kirihara Akira dragged her weary body back to her room, a sense of indescribable sorrow welling up inside her.
He didn't turn on the light, and the moonlight illuminated Mori Kiyoha.
The leaves of the forest and the moonlight always complement each other.
She was dressed in a formal gown, sitting by the window, looking at Kirihara Akira with a complicated expression.
She said, "Don't do this again next time, what if she really shoots..."
"She won't shoot." Kirihara Akira sat at the foot of the bed, looking down wearily, and said, "Kamio Chouha herself may have self-destructive tendencies, but at the same time she is the head of a powerful force. And that female assassin... a tool that has been cultivated and had its own will extinguished, a freak who has to some extent overcome the will to survive. As long as she is instilled with instructions, unless she is truly on the verge of death, the instructions will always be the highest priority."
I know this kind of person all too well.
"What if, I mean, what if, she really is crazy, or it was just an accidental discharge?"
Kirihara Akira raised her head, her eyes frighteningly red, her voice still carrying a chilling calm: "Isn't that perfect? Isn't this what your mother wanted? She brought me into this house to exchange me for something, which is why she sent me to deliver Kamio Chowa."
In this world, who cares about the life or death of someone who has no blood ties, no real trace of their life?
Mori Kiyoha was startled by his appearance.
She was silent for a while, then suddenly laughed.
"What are you laughing at?" Kirihara Akira's calm voice concealed an unstable emotion.
"I'm laughing. Sometimes it's a good thing not to pretend to be so detached, like I am now, and to let out a little anger."
Mori Kiyoha walked up to Kirihara Akira, made a "V" sign with her index finger and thumb, and lifted his chin.
She said, "I'm not my sister. She'll say anything. Now she's on my mother's side, speaking up for you."
Before Kirihara Akira could fully grasp the meaning behind it, Mori Kiyoha bent down.
It felt like something soft had gently touched his cheek... The next instant, the sensation turned into a stinging pain.
A row of teeth marks were left on his face.
Mori Kiyoha was almost face-to-face with him, her expression as cold as ice: "I can only tell you, wake up, are you going to die because a woman like Mori Akari abandoned you?"
After saying that, she stood up.
"Miss Kiyoha," Kirihara Akatsuki called out.
"What?"
"Happy birthday."
Mori Kiyoha had already turned around and said, "My birthday has already passed, let's talk about it next year."