Chapter 50: Hoisted by One’s Own Petard (Extra Chapter for the Patron Lord, the Last Hidden Official Chen Eleven)

In the living room of the Tanaka household.

Aoyama Hidenobu was growing increasingly audacious, his hand already sliding beneath the hem of her kimono. “Madam, you are truly beautiful.”

“Aoyama-kun, don’t do this. My husband could return at any moment!” With her hair in disarray and a blush spreading over her cheeks like sunset clouds, Nakako Tanaka forced herself to feign both shame and coquettish resistance, hoping to lure Aoyama Hidenobu into taking further liberties.

With a sudden laugh, Aoyama seized her kimono’s collar and yanked it open. “He’s not coming back, madam.”

“What are you doing!” Feeling the chill on her chest, Nakako’s face reddened as if blood might drip from it. Forcing down her humiliation and fury, she cried out in a half-genuine, half-feigned panic, “Let me go! Someone, help me!”

“Now’s the time!” Outside the door, Kimifumi Tanaka flicked away his cigarette, his face twisted in rage as he turned to storm inside and teach that bastard a lesson.

But in the next instant, he was tackled to the ground from both sides by Tani Nakayama and Yoichi Yamamoto.

Shocked, Kimifumi tried to shout his indignation, but a hand clapped over his mouth.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” He struggled desperately, his eyes filled with frustration and confusion, muffled sounds escaping his lips.

“Tanaka-kun, forgive us. We betrayed Aoyama-kun once already. We can’t follow you into another mistake,” Nakayama said, pinning him down with all his strength.

Yamamoto, unable to meet Kimifumi’s eyes, looked away uneasily. “Aoyama-kun has forgiven us, Tanaka-kun… so, sorry.”

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” Kimifumi’s eyes bulged in fury as he writhed on the ground. He never imagined these two would betray him at the crucial moment. His heart was ablaze with rage and helplessness as he fought with all his might, but he couldn’t break free from their grip.

Inside, Nakako called out loudly for help several times, but when her husband did not burst in as promised, she grew bewildered and anxious.

At this, Aoyama Hidenobu abruptly released her.

“Does madam still not understand?”

“What… what is happening?” Nakako hastily gathered her kimono about her, stammering.

Aoyama smiled. “Your weakling of a husband wanted to use you to please me and buy my forgiveness. But knowing you’d never willingly sacrifice your honor for his career, he devised this ruse to deceive you into cooperating—hoping that play would become reality. So, even if you scream yourself hoarse, your green-turtle husband will not come to your rescue.”

“No… impossible! That’s not who he is! He loves me!” Nakako shook her head, pale as death, refusing to believe Aoyama’s words. She turned and shouted desperately toward the door, “Kimifumi, save me! Please, save me!”

Outside, Kimifumi Tanaka, pinned to the ground, tears streaming down his face, clutched the floor with all his strength, anguish and regret tearing through his heart.

Nakako! My Nakako!

When her repeated cries met only silence, Nakako was struck as if by lightning. She collapsed in defeat, tears streaming from her eyes. “No, it can’t be! He wouldn’t do this to me! He said he loved me, we grew up together since childhood—how could he give me to someone else!”

She could not accept it, but the reality before her made everything clear.

“Perhaps he truly loves you,” Aoyama said, pouring himself a glass of sake with mocking composure, “but it’s obvious he loves his future more. Was I not a great benefactor to him once? He betrayed me for his own advancement; betraying you is hardly surprising.”

Nakako sat, hollow-eyed and dazed, her hastily fastened kimono now falling open, her modesty forgotten.

“Next time, madam, choose a man more worthy. How could such a coward protect you?” Setting down his glass, Aoyama gently closed her kimono and bowed. “I’ll take my leave.”

Nakako finally looked up at him, her eyes clouded with incomprehension.

Aoyama smiled gently. “Did you truly think I was some lecher, madam? My rudeness just now was only a necessary act, to let you see Tanaka’s true nature. I’ve never enjoyed forcing anyone—that would be far too dull.”

“The humiliation your husband suffered tonight through your hands has satisfied my grudge. I have no intention of seeking further revenge. If you choose to divorce him after this, you will have done all that can be expected.”

“Thank you for your hospitality this evening, madam. Farewell.” He bowed again and turned to go.

“W-wait!” Nakako’s hoarse voice stopped him.

Aoyama raised an eyebrow and turned back. “Is there something else, madam?”

“I offer myself to you,” she said coldly, pulling open her kimono, her eyes filled with hatred. “But I want you to ensure Tanaka loses his job.”

Aoyama stared at her in astonishment.

“He cares so much for his precious career, doesn’t he?” Nakako’s lips curled into a chilling smile. “I’ll make him lose not only me, but everything he values. For the pain he’s caused me, I’ll repay him a hundredfold!”

When a woman loves a man, she longs to give him her very heart; but when she hates him, she wishes she could tear his heart out.

Nakako Tanaka was that woman now.

“Are you sure about this?” Aoyama took a deep breath, his expression grave.

Tears still streaked Nakako’s face, but she lifted her head and smiled, drawing back her skirt to reveal her slender legs sheathed in black stockings. “Am I not beautiful enough?”

“Then, madam, forgive my impudence.” Bowing, Aoyama returned to kneel before her, pouring a cup of sake over her body.

“Fine wine and a beautiful woman—what greater pleasure?” he murmured, tossing the cup aside and moving toward her.

Despite tending to Nakako’s wounded heart, Aoyama did not forget to call Shinichi Nakamura to assure him all was well; otherwise, if Nakamura burst in with a gun mid-act, it would have been a farce.

In his car, Shinichi Nakamura, overhearing the faint sounds of a woman’s voice on the line, finally understood what had happened that evening, sparing a single moment’s pity for the unfortunate Kimifumi Tanaka.

Twenty minutes later, Aoyama, having thoroughly satisfied Mrs. Tanaka, left the house fully dressed and looked down at Kimifumi, still pinned at the doorway.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” Kimifumi glared at him, veins standing out on his forehead.

Aoyama crouched, ruffled his hair, and whispered, “Tanaka-kun, your wife had a hard night. Be sure to comfort her well.”

With that, he left without a backward glance and got into the car.

“Drive,” he said.

“Yes, sir!” Nakamura started the engine and pulled away.

Nakayama and Yamamoto finally released Kimifumi, who, too overcome to seek revenge on them, scrambled desperately inside.

Fearing Kimifumi might return with a knife, Nakayama and Yamamoto hurried to their own car, but soon received a call from Aoyama.

“Ruin Tanaka.”

“W-what?” Nakayama stammered, nearly dropping the phone. “Inspector…”

“Handle it tonight,” Aoyama said, adjusting his tie with one hand as he spoke from the back seat. “Otherwise, your records of taking bribes will be on the Public Safety Commission’s desk by morning.”

The Public Safety Commission supervises the police in every prefecture.

“No, Inspector—you can’t! You said you’d forgive us! How can you go back on your word?” The two men panicked, fear and anger in their voices.

“That’s all.” Aoyama hung up and closed his eyes to rest.

Tanaka had not offered his wife willingly; he would surely hate Aoyama now. Aoyama was not about to risk leaving Kimifumi with any means of revenge. If the man, driven to desperation, tried to kill him, there’d be no way to guard against it. Letting him live was leniency enough.

The dial tone buzzed in their ears as Yamamoto and Nakayama exchanged looks of despair.

“Damn that bastard! We should have sided with Tanaka-kun when we had the chance!”

“What’s the point in saying that now? The moment we handed him the knife, we lost all control over how things would unfold.”

“If we ruin Tanaka, then this will all be over. Everything will go back to normal.”

“It must. Don’t worry, it must!”

…………………………

When Kimifumi Tanaka burst into the living room, he found his wife collapsed on the floor, her hair disheveled, kimono barely covering her battered form, torn stockings hanging from her calves—a sight of utter devastation.

“Nakako! Nakako!” Kimifumi, weeping, crawled to embrace her.

But Nakako, summoning her remaining strength, slapped him hard across the face, biting her lip as tears shimmered in her eyes. “Do I look good to you now?”

“Nakako, listen, I—” he began.

“Let’s divorce.” Nakako cut him off, refusing to hear his excuses. She rose, staggering up the stairs, her footsteps echoing with the sound of falling tears.

Kimifumi collapsed to his knees, wailing in anguish, his forehead pressed to the floor. After a long moment, he raised his head, eyes blazing with hatred. “Aoyama Hidenobu!”

He rushed to the kitchen, seized a knife, and drove off toward the Aoyama residence.

Clang!

Just as he crossed an intersection, a car shot out from the left and smashed into him. He had no time to react; his vehicle was overturned and sent crashing into the shrubbery, his fate uncertain.

The offending car reversed and sped away into the night.