Ke Xue: I picked up a bottle of sherry at the beginning.

Just as I said this, Ryoko waved her hand gracefully, and the handkerchief flew from my hand to hers.

What are you doing?

I'll keep this.

Give it back to me!

Qin Xuan reached out to grab it, but Liangzi dodged behind the chair, leaving him empty-handed.

Could Artemisia be the product of a genetic factory?

Since Artemisia hated her mother, she might as well kill her or teach her a lesson and let her see how powerful she is.

After delivering the above unconscionable words, Ryoko threw the handkerchief to Lucien.

So, what's your conclusion?

Artemisia was convinced that her suicide was the ultimate revenge for her mother, wasn't she? She would never give her body to her mother.

Yes, she not only committed suicide, but also completely destroyed her body in the fire. It's a pity that you prevented her from doing so.

The writing on the handkerchief is Artemisia's suicide note, a very important piece of evidence. I won't hand it over.

Liangzi held the glass and took a sip of the mineral water, which was obviously the mineral water she brought for Qin Xuan.

You know how the police mess with evidence. I know it all too well: a suicide note, blood-stained clothes, a knife. They just say they can't find it, and that's it. No one's held accountable.

I am fully aware of this, and it is a stain on the police that cannot be justified at all.

It's up to you whether to hand it over or not. But please give it back to me first.

No.

why? !

What am I giving back to you? It wasn't yours in the first place.

That's not yours either.

Stop talking too much! What belongs to the subordinates is what belongs to the boss!

This is so unreasonable.

Being unreasonable is the boss’s privilege!

It's a sad contradiction that I can't do what I want to do. I reached out to grab it, but my back and shoulder blades screamed in unison. I had to give up and lay my upper body on the bed.

There was a knock at the door. Marian went to open it, and a confident woman in a dress glided in. Of course, it was Jackie.

Oh, you two are so close, I'm so envious~

It's purely a misunderstanding.

How is Azhun, Xiaoliang?

This guy is unkillable. Even if he were dead, he wouldn't even realize it. He's as slow as a winter melon.

Hey, Xiaoliang, don't talk nonsense. We should all get along well and live happily. Oh, right, the local news just said that the road leading to the Mikasa Forest Hotel has been blocked by police and fire trucks, and it will be impassable all day today.

Speaking of which, where does Mella Routledge live today?

Don't worry, she won't be homeless, she can just book any hotel or villa.

Jackie was right. It wasn't summer vacation yet, so there were plenty of places to stay. If she didn't like it, she could go to Tokyo or New York. She could go wherever she wanted.

Just as she was about to fire her poison arrow, Ryoko suddenly paused, tapping her red lips with her left index finger, as if she were calculating something. It seemed her brain cells were working at breakneck speed, pushing their thinking efficiency forward.

Well, hurry up.

She muttered something and immediately turned her gaze to me again:

Izumi-kun, get up quickly and get ready to go out.

what? !

You need some fresh air. Seriously, you came all the way to Karuizawa in the summer and just sleep all day.

Xiaoliang is right. The blue sky, white clouds, green trees, and gentle breeze—the splendor of the plateau is inviting you.

So, Jackie, are you going to let us observe your conference today or are you just saying no outsiders allowed?

How could that be? You must come, so I can introduce you to my comrades.

Fifteen minutes later, Qin Xuan finally changed into clothes that allowed him to walk in front of people. As he walked towards the car, he listened to Jackie say:

This year, there are two opposing factions regarding what to wear at the conference: the wedding dress faction and the gothic lolita faction. Each has its own supporters, and it's difficult to reach a consensus.

Gothic Lolita is a new fashion trend among young girls, short for Gothic Lolita. As for the exact academic definitions of Gothic and Lolita, there's little point. In short, it's a fashion trend that combines a girlish, cute vibe with a somewhat eerie, dark, and retro vibe.

Ryoko had already taken control of the steering wheel. As the two maids and the caretaker and his wife watched, the car sped away.

So, how is the power distribution between the two factions?

There are 150 people in the bridal party, 130 people in the Gothic Lolita party, and about 40 people in the neutral party.

In other words, the fact that no one side truly controls the majority of power and the outcome is decided by neutral parties is no different from the political and diplomatic world.

But, brother Jackie, don’t you hate this kind of thing?

I hate it the most. But, if three people get together on Earth, there's bound to be a factional struggle.

Jackie Wakabayashi sighed with deep regret. He'd been embroiled in the Ministry of Finance's ugly factional struggles, his life at the brink of despair, when Ryoko had rescued him. Rather than being rescued, it would be more accurate to say he'd been controlled by a demonic hand. In short, the young, elite Ministry of Finance bureaucrat had found a place of peace, a place where bystanders would be better off refraining from interfering.

Only the roofs of the villas could be seen in the jungle. After driving for about ten minutes, the view suddenly opened up and the car had parked in the courtyard of a Western-style house.

The building evokes a sweet, creamy pastry: a two-story wooden structure, painted a creamy white, giving the impression of being on the cover of a home-manipulating magazine. A skylight pierces the red, Western-style tiled roof, and a wall of red and white roses frames a vast expanse of greenery. In the courtyard, a bird feeder stands, and a dozen or so birds, their feathers as beautiful as jewels, sing with eager eagerness. Across the larch forest, perhaps towards Mount Asama, its pale purple peaks rise majestically into the sky.

The magnificent plateau, the exquisite 220-story Western-style house. Yet, to me, this is merely a demonic palace surrounded by demonic clouds. A sign at the entrance reads, in round letters, "Western-style House: Samantha's Dream Home." On the wall next to the entrance, a brush-written scroll hangs:

Start the clothing reform now!

Japan, taller, stronger and more beautiful!

Just looking at the second half of the sentence, I thought it was a rally of a political group, but it was actually a meeting of a women's clothing group. It seems that true patriots always appear in unexpected places.

A cheer seemed to come from the direction of the corridor, and dazzling colors flashed before my eyes. Judging from his clothes, he looked like a figure like Marie Antoinette. He had narrow eyes and sunken cheeks, and his age was hard to tell.

Who is that?

He is Elizabeth Fuguzawa, the president of the Imperial Women's Clothing Lovers' Alliance.

Elizabeth

So, who's that person dressed like Marilyn Monroe drinking coffee over there?

The acting minister assisting the chairman of the New Fashion Culture Creation Association's Supreme Executive Council. Her name is Margaret Pig.

This is Margaret. It seems that everyone dreams of becoming a princess in the West. Thinking of this, my eyes wandered and I happened to see a pair of thick calves extending from under the golden cheongsam.

Moving up from those calves, it became clear that this person was dressed as a Japanese princess. She was probably wearing a wig, her face powdered as thickly as a puppet's. She was wearing a red and gold, long-sleeved kimono that looked incredibly hot, with the words "天下布種" (Tianxia Buzhong) written across it.

Squeeze toothpaste

Ryoko glanced at Shiraizumi Masu and called the shopkeeper over to say something. The shopkeeper literally ran around shaking his head and took out a map of the Karuizawa area.

Ryoko unfolded the map, pointed to a place and asked a few questions:

How big is this place?

About 800,000 square meters.

Such a vast land has not been developed and utilized and is just left alone?

There's talk of a major Tokyo corporation developing a golf course there, but that was back during the bubble economy.

Didn't it come true?

Yes, it's too close to the city's water source. Also, to protect the golf course grass from pests, they have to spray a lot of pesticides, which pollutes the water source, which is a big problem. So, there's a campaign against it.

The conglomerate's plans were left in the dust. While it might appear that the opposition movement influenced their decision-making, perhaps their plans were simply too costly to sustain, leading them to abandon them in frustration. This is the way any extreme autocratic executive behaves.

Thank you very much. Now, let's check out.

Ryoko handed over a card from a world-renowned credit card company, and the shopkeeper's eyes widened.

Wow, this is a Darkness Card, which is even more advanced than the Gold Card or even the Platinum Card! This is the first time I’ve seen it, and my hands are shaking.

The shop owner turned to the cashier. Ryoko glanced at his back and said to us:

So, get some good sleep tonight. Mela Routledge and her minions will surely be waiting for my attack, preparing all night long. Let them waste their time, and we just need to conserve our energy.

For Ryoko, not attacking is also a strategy. I can't help but click my tongue, but I still have to ask:

What if the other party takes the initiative like they did this morning?

Shiraizumi Masayuki felt they wouldn't disperse their fighting strength any further. Besides, if they dared to launch a surprise attack, the Nagano Prefectural Police would be witnesses to our legitimate defense.

Ryoko pointed back dramatically. The two plainclothes officers who had been following them helplessly, toweling their sweat, hurriedly moved aside and hid behind a pillar in the cafe.

So, what to do next?

Go play, what else is there to say?

Ryoko answered immediately.

From here, I'll bike south. I'll visit all the art galleries and museums, listen to a Sibelius concert at the Ohga Hall, and eat some Tyrolean-style Italian food before heading home. Hurry, cherish your time.

Was she here on vacation after all? No matter whose soul it was, living or dead, nothing could control Ryoko's whim.

Kasai evaded justice, committing a multitude of crimes. He was able to run his scam with impunity thanks to connections he had cultivated in the financial world during his bureaucratic career, as well as connections to the underworld. Even if newspapers and television turned a blind eye to the misdeeds of people like him, he would occasionally receive criticism from gossip magazines, but he always managed to silence them with huge advertising budgets.

In this way, his actions seem to be comparable to those of JACES, but according to the owner of JACES, Ryoko Yakushiji:

Our company doesn't exploit the poor. It's much more efficient to target one rich person and make a killing than exploit ten thousand poor people.

I heard that's the case.

Ryoko and I dismounted our tandem bicycles, and Lucien and Marian followed suit. We stood before the tightly closed gate of the Kasai residence. Somewhat surprisingly, perhaps Ryoko's strategy had worked, there were no signs of Nagano police officers around. Just then, Muromachi Yukiko and Kishimoto caught up. Yukiko gasped and called out:

Ryoko, if you dare to take one step closer, I will arrest you as a criminal for illegally trespassing!

Oh, what a nagging woman! I wish I could just shut her up forever!

You can't just barge in. It would be really troublesome if it turned out to be an illegal invasion.

There is always a way. By the way, what if someone happens to cry for help?

How could such a coincidence happen?

As soon as I finished speaking, a woman's voice came from the fence:

Help! Someone help!

Look, look.

Ryoko blinked at me proudly, fluttering her long eyelashes.

I was completely speechless at this point. No matter what, I was convinced that this woman, Ryoko, must have the protection of a demon at all times, and that she would grant any request. There was actually a cry for help.

Although Yukiko Muromachi stopped Ryoko from running away, she was a person with conscience and common sense after all, and it was impossible for her to ignore the cry for help.

Okay, attack the city!

Ryoko snapped her right fingers, and Lucien swung a reinforced nylon rope with a steel fork at the end, hurtling toward the solid door. Marian grabbed the rope and leaped lightly, leaping onto the wall in a few strokes before disappearing on the other side of the door. Lucien followed closely behind.

The door swung open with a click. Ryoko, I, and Yukiko walked in. Cement was piled high in the spacious front yard, along with about ten trucks. A guard rushed out from the entrance.

This is private land, get out of here! I'm calling the police!

The guard's uniform wasn't JACES's, but we already knew that from JACES' intelligence. So Ryoko didn't have to show any mercy or hesitation when she attacked.

That’s a good idea. Look here!

She flashed her police handbook, and the guard froze. Ryoko ran inside, followed by Marian and Lucien, Yukiko and I. Kishimoto, trailing at the end, ran clumsily like a penguin, still mumbling something:

Well, we are real police officers.

The guard gave chase two or three steps and spoke a few words quickly into the microphone attached to his helmet.

As we entered the entrance, six guards armed with special batons blocked our way. They looked like they might be part of a gang, and they looked quite menacing.

Normally, given Ryoko's temperament, she would have rushed in by force no matter how Yukiko tried to stop her. Just as I was thinking about this, she suddenly smiled evilly and turned to look at the two maids:

Lucien, try speaking the Japanese I taught you before.

Lucien nodded, showing an angelic smile, and said in a bit stiff Japanese:

Big brother, I love you the most!