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After a grueling fourteen-hour flight, the plane finally landed at Haneda Airport.
For a long-haul flight that spanned half the globe, traveling in economy class could leave anyone utterly exhausted.
The cramped seating in economy made enduring fourteen hours an absolute torment.
But first-class tickets were prohibitively expensive—far beyond what most people would be willing to spend.
Fortunately, Fujihara Toru had an excellent constitution and, as a professional, he had trained himself to fall asleep quickly.
After enjoying a lavish dinner on the plane and catching some rest, Fujihara arrived at his destination feeling refreshed and energized.
He had boarded the plane at 1:00 PM England time and arrived at 11:00 AM Tokyo time.
Since he had eaten a full meal on the plane along with some snacks, Fujihara wasn't hungry. He decided to skip lunch for now and wait until dinner to eat, which would also help him adjust to the time difference.
Wearing sunglasses and carrying a file folder, Fujihara passed through immigration control and entered the airport.
Having traveled in first class, Fujihara disembarked before most of the other passengers, so he didn't encounter the girl named Chihaya Ai-ne again.
The memory of their brief interaction on the plane reminded Fujihara of who she was.
Chihaya Ai-ne was one of the main characters from the anime MyGO!—though after living in this world for twenty years, Fujihara had nearly forgotten about her, having only watched the anime once.
That's why he hadn't recognized her immediately.
It was only works like Detective Conan, a national-level manga, that Fujihara remembered more clearly.
"Since she's also an anime character, if I manage to 'capture' her, will I earn high-level skill points?"
Fujihara muttered to himself. Whether it would succeed or not, he figured he'd have to try to find out.
Of course, Fujihara didn't want to come on too strong or act desperate. His list of targets was extensive, and he wasn't in a rush—he preferred to take things step by step.
Taking out his phone, he quickly scrolled through his messages, and one caught his attention.
"Mr. Fujihara, please reply once you've disembarked: 'I've already prepared the contract.' —From Eri Kisaki."
After a moment's thought, Fujihara replied: "Ms. Kisaki, I've just disembarked and am going through customs. If traffic in Tokyo isn't bad, I should arrive at the destination before 1:00 PM. Would you like to join me for lunch?"
Not long after sending the message, Eri Kisaki responded promptly: "Thank you for the kind invitation, Mr. Fujihara, but I've already had a quick bowl of ramen for lunch. Let me treat you next time."
Her polite yet formal response carried a subtle implication—a gentle refusal.
Fujihara immediately dropped the idea of pursuing further invitations. With mature women like her, being overly persistent often only led to annoyance and avoidance.
"Well then, I'll make sure Ms. Kisaki treats me generously when the time comes," he thought to himself.
"For a valued client like Mr. Fujihara, I certainly can't be stingy. Feel free to suggest any restaurant you'd like."
Though she wasn't physically present, Fujihara could vividly imagine the confident and commanding demeanor of Eri Kisaki.
Chuckling softly, he opened another message, memorized a number, and put away his phone.
Carrying the file folder, Fujihara headed to the airport's storage lockers. He found a locker and entered the code based on the number he had just memorized.
The locker opened to reveal a set of Porsche car keys and a heavy briefcase.
Without hesitation, Fujihara picked up the keys and the briefcase, acting like an ordinary traveler as he made his way to the airport's underground parking lot.
Soon enough, he located a car tucked away in a corner of the parking lot.
It wasn't a flashy Porsche sports car, nor was it the high-tech black vehicle he had driven in North America—that car hadn't been shipped over yet.
Instead, it was a fully customized Panamera, modified to appear relatively "low-key" while still exuding luxury.
Out of habit, Fujihara conducted a thorough check of the car to ensure there were no bombs or listening devices. Once satisfied, he settled into the driver's seat.
Opening the briefcase, he found a brand-new M9 pistol—his preferred model—along with multiple magazines and a silencer.
Naturally, he couldn't bring weapons from the U.S. onto the plane to Japan, but the CIA's local branch in Japan had already prepared everything for him in advance.
This car, too, had been specially arranged by the CIA. As for how the expenses were accounted for, that was the accountants' problem.
After inspecting the pistol to confirm it was in perfect condition, Fujihara secured it on his person, instantly feeling a surge of security.
As humans—or at least the humans of this world—they were still no match for bullets. Close combat had its merits, but beyond seven steps, the gun was faster; within seven steps, it was both fast and accurate!
Traffic jams were a common occurrence in any major international city, and Tokyo was no exception.
After navigating through heavy traffic, Fujihara arrived at his destination around 1:00 PM, just as he had estimated: the Old Furukawa Garden near Nishiarai Station in Tokyo's Kita Ward.