Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Akasaka, high-end restaurant Tsuruya.

This is a private place frequented only by Tokyo's political and business elites and top celebrities, where the air is filled with the scent of expensive incense.

In the quiet private room, Masahiko Kondo was already seated.

In front of him lay a kaiseki meal, each dish costing tens of thousands of yen, and a bottle of Juyondai, a top-grade sake that only regular customers could order.

But he didn't savor it; he just gulped it down like beer, his face flushed, his tie ripped off roughly, making him appear restless and arrogant.

"Tch, why isn't it here yet..."

Kondo Masahiko glanced impatiently at his watch, mentally calculating the value of the meal.

Since being kicked out of Nakamori Akina's apartment by that bastard Kitahara Iwa half a month ago, Nakamori Akina has really not contacted him again.

For a full two weeks, there were no phone calls, no messages, and she even avoided me when I went to her apartment.

"Hmph, still being stubborn with me, huh? Or are you trying to play hard to get?"

Kondo Masahiko toyed with the wine glass in his hand, a disdainful sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

Based on past experience, as long as I lose my temper a little or ignore her for a few days, this silly woman will break down because she is afraid of losing me. In the end, she will come back crying and begging for forgiveness, and she will even do more to please me.

In his view, this time, the person who took the initiative to invite him out for dinner was no exception.

"See? After holding it in for half a month, I finally couldn't resist anymore."

Kondo Masahiko glanced at the extremely expensive private room, a flash of greed crossing his eyes: "He deliberately chose such a high-class place; he must be here to apologize."

"I'll have to give her a good scolding first, and use her guilt to get her to make up the 1000 million yen shortfall in the team's budget."

"By the way... I also need her to cooperate with me in showing off our affection in front of the media again."

In Kondo Masahiko's distorted perception, Nakamori Akina was never a lover, but rather an ATM from which he could never escape.

Splash!

Just then, the door to the private room was slowly opened.

Kondo Masahiko was about to put on a stern face and scold him, but the words caught in his throat the moment he saw who it was.

The woman who walked in, Akina Nakamori, was completely different from the woman he remembered who always wore loose sweaters and had timid eyes like a little rabbit.

Today, Akina Nakamori wore a sharply tailored black haute couture trench coat, her long hair was styled up, revealing her slender neck.

The makeup was no longer the kind that made people feel pitiful, but rather featured exquisite and aloof red lips.

"You still know how to come?"

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Kondo Masahiko, trying to cover up his lapse in composure, slammed his chopsticks down and roared preemptively, "Where have you been all this time? You didn't answer my calls, and you weren't at your apartment!"

"Do you know that my racing team almost had to disband because of insufficient funding?!"

The next second, Kondo Masahiko stood up, pointed at Akina's nose, and spat as he said, "Akina, you've changed. You've become selfish!"

"If you don't show sincerity in resolving the team's issues today, I will absolutely not forgive you!"

Faced with the onslaught of roars and accusations, Akina Nakamori did not panic as she had before, nor did she cry and apologize. She simply looked quietly at the man in front of her.

Looking at Masahiko Kondo's distorted face, and his eyes clouded with greed.

Akina Nakamori suddenly found it all ridiculous.

How could I have ever fallen for such trash over the past few years?

The next second, Akina Nakamori walked to the table, took an envelope out of her bag, and gently placed it on the table.

Upon seeing the envelope, Masahiko Kondo's eyes lit up instantly.

"Hmph, you're smart to know what's good for you."

He assumed the envelope contained a check for 1000 million yen and reached for it, saying, "I'll let it go this time, but don't let it happen again..."

However, when he emptied the contents of the envelope, he froze.

What slid onto the table was not a check.

Instead, it was a handwritten letter with only a few words.

"Kondo-san."

At that moment, Akina Nakamori spoke, her voice soft but clear: "This is our final farewell."

"We're over."

Let's break up.

"ha?"

Kondo Masahiko was stunned, as if he had heard some alien language.

He stared at the letter in his hand, looking up in disbelief. "What nonsense are you spouting? Break up? How dare you mention breaking up without my permission?"

"I was too weak before. I always thought that patience was love. I thought that as long as I gave enough, you would even glance at me."

Akina Nakamori looked directly into Masahiko Kondo's eyes, her tone eerily calm: "But now I want to be myself again. I don't want to be your ATM anymore, nor do I want to be your shield."

"I've had enough of this disgusting life."

"Be yourself?"

Upon hearing this, Masahiko Kondo felt that his self-esteem had been dealt an unprecedented blow.

How dare a woman he considers his private property resist?

Overwhelmed by intense shame, he instantly flew into a rage, roaring, "Who do you think you are?! Huh?! Without my status as Masahiko Kondo's girlfriend, without the resources of Johnny's and Ken-On, what do you think you are?!"

"Akina Nakamori, I'm warning you! If you dare break up with me, I'll get Aunt Mary to blacklist you!"

Kondo Masahiko gritted his teeth and roared. This was his trump card for dealing with Nakamori Akina in the past, and it had never failed him.

Therefore, he was certain that this time would be the same.

The only response he received was a cold, mocking laugh from Akina Nakamori.

Akina Nakamori looked up at him, her eyes devoid of any of their usual tenderness, only filled with determination: "Then let's give it a try."

"Rather than being entangled in endless internal strife and drained dry by someone like you, I'd rather be blacklisted; at least I'll be clean!"

"you!!"

Upon hearing this, Kondo Masahiko's eyes widened immediately.

He suddenly realized that his usual intimidation tactics had failed, and the control he was so proud of had shattered completely.

At that moment, a crazy idea suddenly rushed into his mind, gripping his heart tightly.

"Is it because of that author?! Is it because of that bastard Kitahara Iwa?!"

At this moment, Kondo Masahiko's eyes were bloodshot, and veins bulged on his forehead. Like a mad dog whose tail had been stepped on, he roared and kept approaching, saying, "You've fallen for someone else? You bitch!"

"Did he brainwash you?!"

"This has nothing to do with Kitahara-sensei."

Upon hearing this, Akina Nakamori frowned even more deeply, her eyes almost overflowing with disgust. She subconsciously took a step back, creating distance, and said, "This has always been a problem between us."

"Shut up! It's all because of that bastard!"

As the alcohol took effect, Kondo Masahiko's reason completely collapsed.

Suddenly, Kondo Masahiko stood up, raised his right hand, and slapped Nakamori Akina hard.

Upon seeing this, Akina Nakamori quickly retreated.

But Kondo Masahiko's actions were too sudden; his hand was getting closer and closer.

Snapped.

A slender hand reached out from the air and gripped Kondo Masahiko's wrist tightly in mid-air.

Kondo Masahiko froze, then slowly raised his head.

What came into view was the man he hated to the core—Kitahara Iwa.

"So it was you!"

Upon seeing who it was, the anger in Kondo Masahiko's eyes instantly turned into jealousy.

New and old grudges surged up in his heart, and Kondo Masahiko roared, "So it was you, you fraudulent book writer, who brainwashed Akina, wasn't that it?! I knew you two were having an affair!"

Kondo Masahiko tried to pull his hand back, but found that Kitahara Iwa's strength was far beyond his imagination.

"Let go! You third-rate writer!"

By this time, jealousy and alcohol had already burned away his reason.

Kondo Masahiko clenched his other fist, filled with resentment and ruthlessness, and slammed it hard towards Kitahara Iwa's face.

"This punch is a reward from Johnny's!"

Seeing this, Kitahara Iwa slightly turned his body to dodge Kondo Masahiko's fist.

Then Kitahara Iwa twisted his wrist, raised his hand, and delivered a straight punch that slammed into Kondo Masahiko's abdomen.

"Hmm!"

Kondo Masahiko groaned, his body arching like a shrimp in pain, his face turning deathly pale.

He clutched his stomach and staggered back, but the fierce light in his eyes burned even brighter. He grabbed the bowl and chopsticks on the table and was about to smash them hard against Kitahara Iwa.

Just then.

"Hey, you Johnny's kid."

A lazy voice drifted in slowly from the doorway of the private room.

Kondo Masahiko paused, feeling that the voice was unfamiliar yet carried an indescribable sense of oppression, causing him to subconsciously stop what he was doing.

Then, Kondo Masahiko turned his head fiercely and looked at the person who came into view. The moment he saw who it was, his pupils suddenly contracted and the hair on his body stood on end.

He was dressed in a flamboyant white suit, wearing sunglasses, and followed by two towering men.

The visitor was none other than Haruki Kadokawa, a figure who reigned supreme in the Japanese entertainment and film industries, and whom no one dared to provoke.

Upon seeing who it was, Masahiko Kondo's hand holding the bowl and chopsticks froze in mid-air, and even his breath caught in his throat.

Kadokawa Haruki didn't even glance at him. He casually took out a handkerchief to wipe the wine stains from the corner of his mouth, walked straight to Kitahara Iwa's side, and only after confirming that Kitahara Iwa was not injured did he slowly turn around and look at Kondo Masahiko.

However, at this moment, Kadokawa Haruki's eyes behind his sunglasses revealed undisguised contempt.

"Do you know how much Kitahara-sensei's head is worth?"

Haruki Kadokawa exhaled a smoke ring, the smoke hitting Kondo's pale face, and said in a flat tone, "His mind is preoccupied with the billion-yen box office I'm about to make."

You dare touch a single hair on my money tree...

I guarantee you won't find a job cleaning toilets anywhere else in the entire industry.

What are Johnny's idols compared to a movie mogul who controls capital and has connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles? They're as insignificant as ants.

"Get out if you don't want to die."

Faced with Kadokawa Haruki's undisguised contempt, Kondo Masahiko instantly sobered up.

He knew that his aunt Mary, who liked him, might be able to run rampant in the entertainment industry, but in front of a true capitalist like Haruki Kadokawa, even Johnny & Associates wouldn't dare to act recklessly.

Kondo Masahiko's face turned pale, his fists clenched and unclenched, and in the end he didn't dare to look at Kitahara Iwa again. He just glared fiercely at Nakamori Akina and left a weak threat through gritted teeth: "You'll regret this, Akina."

After saying that, Kondo Masahiko grabbed his coat and slunk away like a stray dog.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, the private room returned to deathly silence.

"What a disappointment."

Haruki Kadokawa shrugged, sat down, and poured himself a drink: "Is this what top idols are like now? They don't even have the guts to challenge anyone. How boring."

Ignoring Kadokawa Haruki's sarcastic remarks, Kitahara Iwa turned to look at Nakamori Akina, whose body remained tense.

Even though she maintained her haughty posture, her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her true feelings.

Seeing this, Kitahara Iwa took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently handed it to him: "Are you alright?"

Akina Nakamori took the handkerchief, looked at Iwao Kitahara, and slowly raised a relieved and calm smile, saying softly, "Teacher, I've broken up."

At this moment, the songstress, humble and vulnerable in love, died completely.

Instead, there is a soul that lives for itself.

"I threw away the trash for my own sake."