Chapter 34: The Honey Trap, Professionalism on the Job (Please vote! Please keep reading!)

Because he hadn’t returned home last night, Aoyama Shunobu came home early after work today.

“I’m back.”

“Oh! It’s Shunobu—why are you home so early today?” Aoyama Haruko, who was practicing yoga in the living room, quickly stood up and hurried over to bring him his slippers.

Looking at his sister-in-law squatting before him, Shunobu felt a bit helpless. “Big sis, I can do it myself.”

He’d said this more than a few times already.

“No way. The man of the house works hard all day outside—when he comes home, he should enjoy himself and relax,” Haruko replied, looking up with a gentle smile. Beads of sweat glistened on her fair forehead, a few damp strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, her features delicate and graceful.

She wore a pink yoga outfit; her petite yet perfectly proportioned figure was outlined by the tight fabric, every curve accentuated. When she squatted, the elegant arc of her full hips was even more pronounced—enough to make anyone’s mouth go dry.

Shunobu could only avert his gaze.

Otherwise, it would be awkward if he couldn’t control himself.

Haruko put away his shoes and stood up. “Alright, go rest. I’ll wash my hands and make you some tea. Oh, Shunobu, are you hungry?”

“No,” Shunobu shook his head, heading to the sofa. The yoga outfit really was too much.

He could see every detail of his sister-in-law’s well-furnished “apartment.”

To say he didn’t want to move in there would be a lie.

After all, who doesn’t want a nice place to live these days?

But it was only something to imagine.

Haruko brewed tea in the kitchen and brought it to him, then sat beside him, placing her hands on her legs and tilting her head with a bright smile. “You must have worked hard last night, with all that overtime.”

“Yeah,” Shunobu replied, lifting his teacup to hide his guilty conscience. Last night had indeed been exhausting—his supervisor, Ayai Rei, really knew how to squeeze her subordinates.

Haruko pouted with concern, reaching out to poke his eye bags with her slender finger. “Look, you’ve got dark circles. Be sure to rest well tonight.”

“Yeah,” Shunobu set down his teacup, changing the subject. “Is big brother coming home tomorrow or the day after?”

Time flew—it would be Friday already.

“Tomorrow evening. I went shopping today and bought lots of groceries, all his favorites,” Haruko said, happiness and anticipation glowing on her face. She quickly added, “Of course, I bought things you like too, Shunobu.”

“What about you, sis? Did you buy anything you like?” Shunobu asked with a smile.

Her husband’s return had put Haruko in a wonderful mood; her lips curved, her eyes nearly squinting with joy. “Whatever you two like, I like too.”

He could almost cry—his sister-in-law was just too gentle.

How could his stoic, family-revival-obsessed big brother, who had so far only drained the household, marry someone like her?

Shunobu wasn’t jealous at all. Really.

Sob. He was jealous.

Eight o’clock in the evening—city lights flickered on.

Tokyo’s streets glittered with neon, bustling with endless traffic.

Signs for izakayas, clubs, bathhouses, and karaoke bars shone brilliantly; promotional posters featuring scantily clad young women dazzled the eyes.

Despite the economic downturn, despite people jumping off rooftops every day because they couldn’t pay their loans, some still lived lives of indulgence and excess, lost in drunken dreams.

Tonight, Fujimoto Ryoichi and Takahashi Tomonobu were two such souls, currently holed up in a private room at a high-end entertainment club, arms wrapped around hostesses, toasting and drinking.

“Ryoichi, see? As long as a man has money and a successful career, how could he ever lack women?” Takahashi, face flushed and neck thick, laughed boisterously as he slid his hand inside a hostess’s blouse.

With someone else footing the bill, he had no qualms about getting handsy. Fujimoto, playing the lecherous old man to perfection, groped the woman in his arms, his words echoing agreement: “Section Chief, you’re absolutely right—golden advice, truly enlightening!”

But then, something occurred to him, and he sighed.

“Hmm? Ryoichi, what’s wrong? You have fine wine and food before you, a beautiful woman in your arms—why the sigh?” Takahashi burped, asking.

Fujimoto released the woman, drained his glass, and sighed, “It’s just that my background is poor. ‘A successful career’ is something I’ll never have in this life—only under your guidance can I occasionally enjoy nights like this.”

He downed another glass, his face full of resentment. “Unlike Aoyama Shunobu, that guy—even if he’s mediocre, his elite background means that, even if he messes up, he can always bounce back.”

“Ryoichi-san, there’s a Chinese saying: ‘Thirty years on one side of the river, thirty years on the other.’ Who knows what the future holds?” Takahashi smiled, then waved at the two women. “You two, step outside for now.”

“Yes!” The hostesses stood, straightened their clothes, bowed deeply, and left.

Fujimoto watched their backs longingly, as if his soul followed them.

Takahashi inwardly scorned him, thinking the man had never tasted anything better. Outwardly, he acted friendly. “Compared to certain arrogant elite-background juniors, I appreciate self-made men like you much more. And Ryoichi-san, rest assured—Aoyama Shunobu’s good days are numbered.”

He had already investigated the conflict between them and knew exactly how to handle Fujimoto.

“What do you mean?” Fujimoto feigned shock, joy, and confusion.

“To tell you the truth, Aoyama Shunobu has offended Superintendent Sato. I’m here specifically to deal with him for Sato,” Takahashi said bluntly, then began painting a rosy picture. “But I can’t do everything myself. If you help me, I’ll put in a good word for you with Superintendent Sato. You’ll have a bright future ahead!”

“Is that really true?” Fujimoto acted as if struck by enormous joy, his face flushed with excitement. Before Takahashi could answer, he prostrated himself and knocked his head on the floor. “Thank you for your guidance, Section Chief!”

Takahashi had expected this reaction—a police captain recruiting a lowly patrol chief, if the man didn’t act grateful, that would be strange.

“Hahaha! I knew you were a smart one, Ryoichi-san. Stand up, come on, tonight let’s forget business and just enjoy ourselves!” Takahashi helped him up, then called the hostesses back in. “Come, come, let’s keep the music and dancing going.”

Having easily won Fujimoto over, Takahashi felt triumphant. Aoyama Shunobu was nothing—he could crush him with a snap of his fingers.

Fujimoto spent the rest of the night flattering Takahashi, his sycophantic words coming in rapid fire, making Takahashi feel on top of the world after being treated with such deference under Sato.

Strong liquor flowed endlessly, and Takahashi soon became drunk, his eyes dreamy and mind foggy.

“Section Chief, you’re drunk—let’s go.”

“I’m not drunk! Let go of me—I can still drink!”

“All right, all right, let’s drink at my place, we’ll drink at my place.”

………………………

Morning. A ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, landing on Takahashi’s face. His eyelids twitched open a crack, then quickly shut again. He raised a hand to block the glare before finally opening his eyes.

“Captain Takahashi, you’re finally awake.”

A calm voice reached his ears. Takahashi turned to see Aoyama Shunobu and Fujimoto Ryoichi smiling at him, and he sprang up in fright, only then discovering he was completely naked—utterly terrified.

“You—you—what did you do to me?!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his face full of humiliation and rage.

“Idiot! Who’d be interested in you?” Aoyama Shunobu snapped, tossing a pair of pants at him. “Cover up your worm. It’s not us who did anything to you—it’s you who took advantage of Ryoichi’s girlfriend!”

Takahashi’s eyes were blank. He vaguely remembered sleeping with a woman last night, fueled by alcohol.

But was she Fujimoto’s girlfriend?

A sense of unease crept over him.

“Seems Captain Takahashi’s still drunk. Ryoichi, help him refresh his memory,” Shunobu said.

“Yes!” Fujimoto smiled slightly, picked up a stack of photos, and tossed them at Takahashi.

The photos fluttered down like leaves.

Takahashi grabbed one at random, his face instantly paling in shock. After looking at a few more, his body began to tremble. He hurled the photos back at Fujimoto and Shunobu, shouting, “You’re framing me!”

The photos captured him with a woman, her terrified expression and resistance clearly visible.

In short, he’d been set up.

“You’re right,” Shunobu nodded with a calm, almost mocking smile. “We are framing you—but tell me, do you think it’ll work?”

“Idiots!” Takahashi’s face reddened in anger and humiliation. He lunged at Shunobu, “I’ll kill you!”

But he barely left the ground before Shunobu kicked him back onto the bed, crashing down, dazed, bile rising in his throat.

“If you don’t adjust your attitude here, I trust you’ll do so in court.”

Shunobu straightened his tie, smiled coolly, and walked away, waving without looking back. “Keep those photos as a souvenir—I have plenty more.”

“Captain, see you in court. I’ll make sure my girlfriend gets justice,” Fujimoto bowed to Takahashi and followed Shunobu out.

Takahashi sat in shock, then suddenly sprang into action, crawling off the bed and clinging desperately to Shunobu’s leg in a pleading embrace.

“No—please! Don’t do this, Aoyama-kun, Fujimoto-kun, I beg you, I’ve worked so hard to get where I am!”

“Money! I have money! However much you want, I’ll give it to you, just don’t report me, please, please, spare me!”

Takahashi wailed, sobbing and sniffling, banging his head on the floor in abject misery.

As a police officer, he knew well that once those photos went public, whether or not he was guilty didn’t matter—the court of public opinion would judge him first, and the police would deal with him to quell outrage.

Even if he was eventually cleared, he’d only get his job back—his chances of advancement gone.

And what official doesn’t want to advance?

“Tsk tsk, Captain Takahashi, what are you doing? Get up and speak, you’re our superior!” Shunobu said with exaggerated expression.

Takahashi, like a lapdog, looked up with a fawning face. “No, no, Aoyama-kun, I prefer to kneel—I just love kneeling, kneeling.”

Fujimoto’s heart surged at the sight.

He’d never imagined a police captain would one day kneel before him—but today, it happened.

When Shunobu had told him the plan,

He’d thought the man was crazy.

No wonder he’d dared to shoot a superior—his drive to overthrow authority was unmatched.

The bolder the man, the greater the outcome.

“Well, since Captain Takahashi is so sincere, let’s talk about a settlement,” Shunobu smiled, sitting on the nearby sofa.

Fujimoto remained standing.

Takahashi knelt, head drooping in defeat.

………………………

At the same time, Ayai Rei at Shinjuku Police Station rushed into the chief’s office, clutching a report.

“Papa! Important discovery!”

“What’s all this rush and fuss?” Ayai Yuhiko set down his pen, frowning. “And how many times have I told you—use titles during work!”

“Yes!” Rei bowed hastily, then resumed her report. “Chief Superintendent, I have an important discovery.”