The antique mansion is surrounded by high walls, like an ancient general's castle.

After getting out of the car, Fujiwara Izaya strolled toward the door. He was so confident that he seemed to be the owner of this place and was planning to go home to host the festival. Takaki Kitahara who followed him looked like his secretary.

A faint female voice could be heard in front of the door.

A white shirt, navy blue sweatpants, and white tennis shoes.

The simple and neat clothes on him make him look particularly elegant, making many women look at him.

Walking into the door, Kitahara Takaki announced his identity and led Fujiwara Izaya directly through the door without anyone blocking him. Walking in the corridor, he passed by many tall men wearing sunglasses and black suits, and many others.

A few female relatives in kimono.

Fujiwara Izaya was walking on the corridor eaves with a sleepy and relaxed expression.

The angle of raising the knees is always consistent, and the distance of each step is always the same. The chest is straight, not deliberately straight, like a green pine, looking meticulous. The clothes are always ordinary and washed extremely clean, even on rainy days.

When walking, there are no stains on the shoes, which is very particular.

"This is the headquarters of the Black Spider Group."

As Kitahara Takaki walked, he explained to Fujiwara Izaya.

Fujiwara Izaya was also secretly looking at this outrageous house.

In some quaint Japanese-style buildings, small courtyards are surrounded by wooden fences. One or two modern houses can be seen mixed in, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors and windows or exterior walls with beautiful tiles. The environment is very good.

However, the interesting thing is that the roads here are designed to be as winding as possible. Towering ancient trees can be seen almost everywhere, and the lush shades of trees cover almost half of the sky above the entire house, making it feel cold and damp.

In addition, Fujiwara Izaya also noticed some small details.

Although on the surface, this is just an ordinary big house, but with his excellent power, he can always accurately find the large number of hidden surveillance cameras. There are also dark corners and corners, and there are always dark things on the walls.

The design of the stack seems to have automatic or semi-automatic firearms hidden inside.

And the tall tree crown is probably also a hiding place for the defensive force.

Once these things are put into operation, the entire house will immediately become a heavily defended fortress. If a mosquito flies in, it will be strangled to pieces in an instant.

How could a gangster have so much energy... Izaya Fujiwara was thinking about some possibility and followed Takaki Kitahara to a large Japanese-style room decorated with a Buddhist temple.

It looked like they were doing something, but the guests hadn't arrived yet so it hadn't started yet. Several monks were checking the wooden fish in their hands. They could smell Kawashima Miji's scent on their noses, but they couldn't see her whereabouts.

Perhaps thinking of some possibility, Fujiwara Izaya looked at the portrait of the bald man displayed in the Buddhist hall and smiled indifferently.

"I forgot to tell the master, today is also the day when the Black Spider Group performs a favor for the former boss." Kitahara Takaki added in a low voice.

"I understand, you don't have to worry about me."

Fujiwara Izaya spoke to him, followed the familiar smell of roses passing through his nose, and turned around to leave.

In the ancient house in the rain, birds are chirping, and morning glories are climbing on the walls. The flowers are a common blue color, the vines are slender, and the flowers and leaves are very small.

Green leaves and blue flowers hang down, giving people a cool feeling.

The scent of roses turned out to be getting stronger. Fujiwara Izaya turned around and crossed a door to find the source of the scent.

There is a large oleander tree in front of the eaves, with white flowers in full bloom. In the mist and rain, an elegant young widow wearing black mourning clothes is leaning out to pick flowers.

Fujiwara Izaya walked over on tiptoes without making a sound.

The patter of rain covered his movements.

The humid weather, the dripping eaves, and the white flowers looked particularly cool. The flower clusters swayed softly around Kawashima Meiji's figure. She concentrated on picking the words into the black ceramic jar in her hand. The picture was as graceful as an ancient nobleman.

of Ukiyoe.

When Fujiwara Izaya walked closer, the sound of footsteps reached Kawashima Miki's ears.

She looked back.

In an instant, his face changed drastically.

I don’t know what kind of complex feeling it was. Kawashima Miji was unable to speak. A shuddering numbness spread from her tailbone to her whole body. For a long time after this, she could not put it into words.

This feeling was summarized and organized. But at this moment, she felt that she was at a standstill, and there was only a voice in her mind - run away, run away!

"Madam," Fujiwara Izaya approached with a not-so-noble smile, "What a coincidence."

The yard was foggy and white, and the white flowers of oleander quietly hid their figures. The young man walked against the wind, with a handsome and delicate face, a hoarse and charming voice, and malicious and mischievous eyes.

Kawashima Meiji forgot to breathe for a moment.

His head buzzed, and he subconsciously held the black clay pot to his chest.

"Don't come over here!" she shouted loudly, with malice in her tone.

"What is this for?" Fujiwara Izaya took the black clay pot from her hand.

"Give it back to me!" Kawashima Miji shouted and tried to grab it, like a driftwood from a drowning person.

Fujiwara Izaya hid the clay pot behind his back.

At this moment, Kawashima Miji lost her balance and her left hand suddenly pressed on his chest.

She then stretched out her right hand, trying to reach the hand behind Fujiwara Izaya's back, so she stretched her right hand forward as far as possible, twisted her body to the right, and buried her face directly in Fujiwara Izaya's arms.

After just a gentle touch, she quickly moved her face away.

Fujiwara Izaya watched the woman's body staggering forward, seeming to have an indescribable and moving charm. It seemed that this style was a secret of women's instincts. As soon as he touched it, it was like a warm fragrance.

Floating by.

"Oh, give it back to me." Kawashima Meiji took a step back, leaned against the pillar, and looked at him with a pale face.

The rain falling outside the window wetted her neck, and the traces of sweat clinging to the fine fluff seemed to be the sweat that had just broken out.

“A bit of a light fragrance.”

Fujiwara Izaya lowered his head and smelled the flowers in the black clay pot.

Snow-white petals, emerald green leaves, light fragrance, and the warm touch of the clay pot.

Kawashima Miji looked at him with a cold face, biting her lower lip and saying nothing.

Only those stern, beautiful eyes that stared straight at him conveyed anger.

"This fragrance is too weak, and it doesn't match my wife's flamboyant beauty." Fujiwara Izaya threw the black clay pot into the yard and walked towards her and said, "The scent of roses is more suitable for my wife. I will give it to you every day from now on."

A bunch.”

The moment the words fell.

"Pah——"

The clay pot was broken, and the white flowers lay on the dark soil, delicate and pitiful.

Kawashima Miki did not look back, but continued to stare at Fujiwara Izaya.

They were fireworks for decoration in the Buddhist hall in front, and she planned to send them there later. But at this time, she couldn't even protect herself, so she could still give the bald spider a decent ritual.

Fujiwara Izaya was not afraid of her reaction. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, then turned around and sat on the railing.

"Oops~"

Kawashima Meiji exclaimed.

"Be good, don't scream." Fujiwara Izaya threatened her, "Unless you want everyone to know."

At the same time as he spoke, he spread her legs with one hand and pressed down hard on her waist with the other hand, forcing her into a position where she was sitting astride his thigh with her legs spread apart.

"..."

Face to face.

Kawashima Miji stared at him and took a few breaths angrily, as if she was really irritated.

But she struggled a few times and felt something was wrong. She looked down and took a breath of fear. Anticipating something terrible, she crossed her arm to protect her chest and covered her redness with one hand.

With his face on his face, he yelled: "...No! No need to discuss!"

"What's not negotiable?" Fujiwara Izaya looked at her with a smile.

"No, it's no!" Kawashima didn't remember to cover his face, trembled, and said in a stiff tone: "I'm warning you, don't touch me here, or I will die with you now."

"Does it mean it can be done elsewhere?" Fujiwara Izaya caught the loophole in her words again.

"..."

Kawashima Miji was so angry that her chest heaved, and she looked at him angrily: "You are dreaming, not here, not anywhere else!" As soon as she finished speaking, her body trembled, and she suddenly covered her mouth with a confused expression.

anger.

"Keep talking." Fujiwara Izaya let go of his hand and hugged her waist instead, "When you finish scolding, it will be my turn to scold you."

"You..." Kawashima Miji really didn't expect him to be so shameless. She struggled a few times in his arms, but couldn't break free. After a sudden change in her face, a long sigh floated out of her throat.

: "What do you want from me?"

"Aren't we in love?" Fujiwara Izaya smelled the fragrance of roses on her body and put his arms around her slender waist, "As a girlfriend, if you don't answer my calls or reply to my messages, I'll go find you.

You even asked the security guards to chase me away. Tell me, how should I punish you?"

"..."
To be continued...