Kato Megumi tucked her phone away.
Sitting quietly in the back of the taxi, a small smile played at the corners of her lips.
It wasn't a wide grin—just the kind of faint, content expression that lingered when something felt… nice.
She had felt a flicker of annoyance earlier, the moment her fingers brushed against the cash in her pocket.
Because the amount was a bit too much.
For a second, she'd wondered if Yukima Azuma had given it to her not just for taxi fare, but to "compensate" her for helping with Shiratamaru.
If that was the case… wasn't that just like paying for her services?
That thought didn't sit well with her.
But then she saw Azuma's follow-up message—explaining it was just for the taxi.
And her heart softened again.
Because that meant—he'd noticed.
He'd noticed something so small, something she hadn't even said out loud.
She had been mentally preparing herself to stretch her budget a little tighter after covering the taxi fare. Not that she would ever complain.
But Azuma's thoughtfulness… it made her genuinely happy.
The next morning.
Homeroom.
Kato Megumi blinked, staring at the empty seat in front of her.
As soon as class ended, Eriri rushed over to her desk.
"Azuma—he's out again today. Took another leave. Kato-san, do you know what's going on?"
There was hesitation in her voice. A mix of worry… and something else.
Kato tilted her head slightly.
How should she answer?
This was tricky.
Eriri wanted to know what Yukima Azuma was up to—but at the same time, she clearly didn't want Kato Megumi to know more than she did.
Because if Kato did know, wouldn't that mean she was closer to Azuma than Eriri was?
"Huh? Even though you asked like that, Sawamura-san… I don't know anything either," Kato replied calmly. "We went home together yesterday. If you don't know where he went… then of course, neither would I."
She gave a small shrug.
Eriri visibly relaxed. "I see…"
If Yukima Azuma had told Kato where he was going, but not her—Eriri would've been devastated.
But before she could fully exhale in relief, a low buzz came from Kato's desk drawer.
A message.
With a suspicious look, Eriri leaned in as Kato calmly pulled out her phone.
"It's from Azuma-san," Kato said.
Eriri stiffened. Like she'd just turned to stone.
It was as if a little ghost floated out of her mouth in disbelief.
Kato read the message quietly, then turned the screen toward Eriri.
The message read:
"Megumi, I'm busy today, won't be home. Please take care of Shiratamaru!"
After reading it, Eriri unfroze.
So that was it.
He just wanted her to feed the cat.
Nothing special. Nothing intimate.
Her shoulders eased a little.
"Seriously… what is he even doing?"
So where was Yukima Azuma, and what was he up to?
This week had been an absolute whirlwind.
Between official club matches, part-time work, and everything else… there had been no break.
But at long last—
The revenue from overseas sales of his game had been fully deposited.
Thanks to the combination of past-life knowledge and an airtight game design, Yukima had negotiated to publish the game directly through the largest social media platforms in each target country.
It was small in scope, designed as a "mini-game" embedded within apps.
The model was simple:
Free to play
No paid items
Revenue entirely from ads
The hook?
Early levels were fun and addictively simple.
But after a certain point, the difficulty spiked to absurd levels—virtually impossible, even with cheats.
Players who failed were given two options:
Share the game with friends
Watch ads to continue or get power-ups
This design turned the game into a viral loop.
Ad revenue poured in nonstop.
And now, the net income from just the first month of overseas operations had finally cleared:
70 million yuan.
It was listed in Chinese RMB because most of the earnings had come from China.
With its massive population and favorable ad monetization environment, it had been the ideal launch market.
Converted to Japanese yen?
1.5 billion.
That amount was more than enough for Yukima Azuma to kick off his next plan.
Which was why—
Today, he'd taken the day off from school, passport and visa in hand, headed straight for the airport.
Destination: Wall Street.
Because in Japan—
A country where rigid bureaucracy and a calcified hierarchy turned every government office into a concrete maze, trying to make full use of 1.5 billion yen without feeding corrupt directors and greedy middlemen was… a fantasy.
Every politician would want a cut.
Every high-ranking "sponsor" would demand tribute.
The system wasn't built for young people to thrive—it was built to keep them in check.
And the only way to win…
Was to break the rules.
If he wanted freedom, he needed a partner outside of Japan.
Someone he could talk to as an equal.
Someone who didn't care about age or social status—only about results.
And when the time was right, he could inject funds back into the Japanese market, bypassing the system entirely.
If someone tried to take a bite then?
They'd have to consider whether their teeth could survive the first crunch.
Of course, that was the idea.
But finding the right partner… wasn't easy.
The moment Yukima landed, he spotted a white man with slick hair and shrewd eyes holding a sign that said:
"YUKIMA AZUMA"
The guy stood out immediately in the crowd, waving the sign around like he was hailing a cab.
Before Yukima could even approach, the man came jogging toward him.
"Hey! You must be Yukima Azuma, right?"
"That's me. You must be Paul?"
The two of them switched to English seamlessly.
Azuma's language skills were top-notch—Level 6 proficiency across the board.
In fact, if this path ever collapsed, he could probably just become a UN translator.
"Let's go, buddy," Paul said with a big grin. "I'll take you out for a proper welcome. Didn't expect you to be so young!"
He moved to sling an arm around Yukima's shoulder.
Azuma sidestepped him without missing a beat.
"No thanks. I'm short on time. You've already been paid—just get to work."
Paul raised both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. You're the boss. Whatever you say."
But inside, he was sighing.
So this kid's sharper than he looks…
He'd planned to milk the guy a little, maybe drag him around the city first.
But it looked like that wouldn't be happening.
Still—
The client had paid well. Generously.
So it was best not to push it.
Paul had sharp instincts. He could always tell who was easy to fool…
And who wasn't worth the trouble.