That stack of bills—exactly a hundred notes—scattered across the floor. Onlookers’ eyes widened with greed, nearly lunging to snatch the cash. But Alessia’s armed guards held the opportunistic crowd at bay. All they could do was watch, seething with envy.
“Oh, by the way,” Alessia said coolly. “Your sister already knows you’re working at that red-light district establishment. She’s deeply disappointed. Even if you go see her, she won’t want anything to do with you.”
To eliminate doubt, Alessia played the recording of her conversation with Nozomi.
“I never thought… Kanata would work in such a despicable place… Disgusting… She said she was earning more lately… I never imagined it was… through such a filthy way… selling her own body…”
The clip was short—just a few choked sentences. Nozomi was clearly sobbing, her voice broken.
She had misunderstood. Kanata only cooked in the kitchen there. There was absolutely no selling of her body. Alessia knew this—and deliberately never corrected Nozomi.
Her malicious intent was glaringly obvious. Utterly despicable.
“Enough… What do you even want? You drove me out, now you humiliate me—what’s the point? Think this is an amusement park? So fond of playing games, are you?” Kanata thought. If Alessia aimed to provoke her, she’d succeeded. Rage boiled so hot Kanata nearly saw red—imagining a kitchen knife in her hand.
“Kneel. Beg me to take you back to the Imperial Guard. Maybe I’ll allow it. Over a million yen a month—do you really think you can afford that?” Alessia’s estimate was conservative; actual costs ran slightly higher. Though Nozomi’s condition had stabilized enough to shift treatments from monthly to quarterly—easing pressure somewhat—Kanata’s meager salary still couldn’t cover basics. No denying it: Alessia had paid every medical bill since their father’s death.
“I…” Kanata faltered, momentarily speechless. She’d never expected Alessia to catch her hunting infected monsters beyond the city walls. Clinging to a sliver of hope, she’d gambled—and lost. The very fear she dreaded had struck, swift and cruel. And this woman had saved her life. For that alone, Kanata had no right to argue.
“If you can’t bear to leave Kabukicho,” Alessia continued, “consider that money payment for your company tonight. This stack is 100,000 yen. Need more? I’ll bring it. Decide wisely. I’ll return at nine. Wash up and wait for me.”
No one dared touch the remaining stacks. Sovereign’s money, meant for another—taking it meant crime. Girls from the pleasure venue watched, hearts aching with envy. *A million yen… How many times would we have to sell ourselves to earn that?*
Kanata didn’t know why she snapped.
“Get lost! Take your filthy money! I don’t want it! I’ll handle Nozomi’s medical fees myself! The Himemiya Clan does *not* need your humiliating ‘help’!”
Wounded pride? Something deeper? She knew she needed the cash—yet refused. Accepting that tainted money before everyone would mean admitting she’d cheapened herself. And she would *never*—*never*—toss the last shred of her dignity away like trash.
