Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

Masashi Akiyama had a friend during his student days who constantly talked about words like "other world," "knight," "princess," and "great sage."

Having been exposed to it from a young age, he had already developed his own set of logic for dealing with chuunibyou (middle school syndrome) –

In short, it boils down to three words: First, have faith.

Trust the other party first, and follow their logic.

Once you gain approval, things become much simpler.

"That's right."

So he nodded and gave a brief self-introduction.

"I am Masashi Akiyama."

Then Masashi Akiyama continued speaking, following up on what Rin Saionji had said.

"So now, are you willing to tell me your request?"

Rin Saionji nodded hesitantly.

She gripped the hem of her sweatshirt tightly with both hands and slowly moved to the old sofa in the living room.

The sofa was secondhand; the fabric was somewhat worn, but it was still fairly clean.

When she sat down, she curled up into a small ball, as if trying to hide herself in the corner of the sofa.

"My comic... has been published for almost a year now."

"But until now... I haven't received my royalties. The editor-in-chief said that because it's a newly established company, they don't have enough working capital. As a member of the company, I also have an obligation to use my earnings to help cover the company's operating costs..."

Rin Saionji paused, then lowered her head even further:

"The president said that once the company is fully operational, he would return my share of the compensation. But recently... I've run into some trouble and need to use that money. But after I told him that, the president's attitude changed... and he's even stopped replying to my messages."

Rin Saionji's voice grew softer and softer until it was almost inaudible.

Her sitting posture gradually changed from sitting normally on the sofa to curling up in the corner of the sofa.

With knees pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around his calves, and chin resting on his knees, he seemed to be folding himself up and hiding in this safe triangular space.

When Masashi Akiyama looked up at her, Rin Saionji instinctively shrank back into the corner.

He sighed silently.

Although he has his own experience dealing with chuunibyou (middle school syndrome), he really struggles with women who are overly introverted and lack a sense of security.

It's clear that Rin Saionji's withdrawal isn't due to her personality, but rather a traumatic reaction stemming from some past experience.

But this kind of thing should be left to a psychologist, not him, a lawyer.

"So," Masashi Akiyama steered the conversation back on track, "you want me to help you get back the compensation that's rightfully yours, is that right?"

Rin Saionji nodded quickly, but only slightly.

She looked up, her amber eyes peering over from under the brim of her hoodie, filled with cautious anticipation.

"Can...you do it?"

To be honest, even if Masashi Akiyama wanted to lie and say "this is difficult," he couldn't do it.

In fact, even five- or six-year-old children can loudly say "no" when faced with things they don't like.

The so-called "president" clearly took advantage of Saionji Rin's weakness, her gullibility, and her lack of social experience, which is why he dared to bully her so brazenly.

"I can take this commission," Masashi Akiyama said, "but the question is—what will I get in return?"

"Got...what?"

Rin Saionji was stunned.

She looked Akiyama Masashi up and down. From his impeccably tailored suit to his neatly pressed shirt, and then to his expressionless face.

Then, Rin Saionji asked incredulously and weakly:

"Aren't you... a superpowered individual?"

"Even those with superpowers need to eat," Masashi Akiyama replied expressionlessly.

Rin Saionji was clearly persuaded.

She nodded as if suddenly realizing something, then hurriedly stood up and began rummaging through the pockets of her hoodie.

His movements were somewhat flustered.

First, I pulled out a pencil so short it was almost impossible to hold, an eraser with a worn edge, a bunch of jingling keys, and a palm-sized diary locked with a tiny combination lock...

She placed these items one by one on the sofa, as if displaying all her belongings.

She finally pulled out a rather vintage-looking wallet from the deepest part of the last pocket.

The bag is dark brown, with worn-out edges and some oxidation on the metal clasp.

She held her wallet high, opening down, and shook it vigorously.

"Splash—"

Banknotes, coins, several crumpled receipts, a rusty 100-yen coin-shaped amulet... all were scattered on the velvet surface of the old sofa.

"I...this is all I have left," Rin Saionji said慌张地, her voice filled with embarrassment. "Is this...enough?"

Masashi Akiyama's gaze quickly swept over the sofa.

Judging by sight alone, there are at least five "Fukuzawa Yukichi" banknotes among the scattered banknotes, which are 10,000 yen notes.

The other party clearly had no concept of prices, or rather, was completely unaware of lawyers' fees.

That's enough.

Masashi Akiyama stood up and walked a few steps to the sofa. He ignored Rin Saionji and bent down to pick up the scattered banknotes one by one.

Masashi Akiyama moved quickly and steadily, without even dropping the coin.

The banknotes made a slight rustling sound in his hand, and the unique, cold touch of paper money came from his fingertips.

"I accept your request." Masashi Akiyama put away the money and straightened up. "But it's getting late. Let's talk in detail tomorrow morning."

As he spoke, he reached out and lifted the hood of Saionji Rin's hoodie.

Then, like carrying a reluctant kitten, he "lifted" the other person all the way to the entrance of the firm.

The evening breeze seeped in through the cracks in the door, carrying the chill of late autumn.

Masashi Akiyama quickly pulled out a banknote from the stack of bills he had just collected and stuffed it, along with the amulet, into Rin Saionji's hand. His movements were so fast that they were almost invisible.

"Goodnight," he said. "See you tomorrow."

"Splash—"

The office door was slammed shut.

Then came the sound of the door lock turning.

"Click, click."

It echoed clearly in the quiet corridor.

Rin Saionji stood there blankly, clutching the banknote that had been suddenly stuffed into her hand, still not fully understanding what had just happened.

etc--

My things... are still inside...

She looked at the closed door, hesitating whether she should knock again.

Rin Saionji's fingertips lingered on the cold door for a moment, but in the end, the desire to escape prevailed.

Forget it.

She muttered to herself, "Anyway... I'll come tomorrow."

Rin Saionji looked down at the banknotes that Masashi Akiyama had stuffed into her hand.

It was a 1000 yen note with Hideyo Noguchi's portrait on it.

The paper was old, with some rough edges, but it had been smoothed out.

In the dim light of the corridor, the banknotes gleamed with an old, gentle sheen.

"Mr. Lawyer..."

"He's a good person."

Inside the door.

Masashi Akiyama, who was given the "friend zone" card, actually just didn't want the person he entrusted to starve to death because they had no money for food.

After all, if someone starves to death, the remaining commission payment will never be received.

A very practical reason.

He walked back to his desk, spread out the stack of money he had just collected, and counted it one bill at a time.

Five 10,000 yen notes, three 5,000 yen notes, and some loose 1,000 yen notes and coins.

Total: 68,740 yen.

It's not a lot, but for a labor dispute case with clear facts and sufficient evidence, it's enough as an initial commission fee.

Masashi Akiyama put the money in the drawer and locked it.

Then immediately send yourself into sleep.