The girl's name is Rin Iijima.
Because I was one of the sponsors of the charity show, it was easy to get Iijima's information and contact information from the organizer.
She was 21 years old at the time and still a female college student.
I am nineteen years older than her, but it doesn't matter because I can still approach her easily because of my social status.
Through polite early contacts, I learned that Rin Iijima comes from an ordinary family and is working hard to become a famous ballet dancer.
This is easier to do.
I gave her luxuries, treated her to high-end restaurants, and took her on my yacht for vacation.
I used my connections to get her an opportunity to perform a ballet at the Takarazuka Theater.
Rin Iijima was very grateful to me, and it didn’t take long before she willingly became my secret lover.
Iijima thinks I have done a lot for her.
But what she doesn't know is that the money and energy I invested in her are not even as much as the money I invested in certain custom girls.
Between me and Rin Iijima, a female student, I have the upper hand regardless of age or experience, and we are doubly crushed in terms of mind and authority.
Our identities were not equal from the beginning.
It was normal for her to become my lover under coercion and inducement. Everything was within my expectations.
That's how I stay awake.
Iijima once told me her wish. She said that she loved dancing and wanted to keep dancing.
So, in the third month after she became my lover, I carefully prepared a gift for her.
I customized an extra-large music box.
For the music box track, I chose "Puppy Waltz".
Although I know Iijima prefers quiet songs, I love cheerful ones.
As long as I like it.
Moreover, there are times when Iijima will indeed act like a puppy at certain moments under my control.
It feels very good to turn a proud swan into a humble puppy.
But it's not enough.
The night I gave the music box to Iijima, I invited her to my villa in the suburbs.
I anesthetized her with medicine.
I put on a white tutu for her.
In order to make Iijima's final state more perfect, I started to use tools to trim the joints of her limbs.
While I was adjusting her limbs, Iijima woke up, perhaps because of the pain or because the anesthetic had worn off.
She began to cry and scream.
But it's useless. The basement of my villa has the best sound insulation.
Moreover, the way Iijima struggled and cried reminded me of the crow that provided me with my first meaningful collection a long time ago.
I don't know why, but the way Iijima cries is similar to the way the crow flutters its chest feathers.
It was a long-lost feeling that made me focus more on the work at hand.
A long time passed. I forgot the specific time at the time. In short, it was a long time ago.
Rin Iijima stopped crying and stopped struggling.
She was still, just like the crow that was lying stiffly in my palm.
Not moving anymore.
I put a lot of thought into it and spent a whole week on and off sculpting my collection.
I dehydrated and preserved her, disassembled and reassembled her joints flexibly...
Finally, I carved Iijima into a beautiful piece of art and placed it on top of the copper music box.
Just turn the axis of the music box and she will spin and dance to the smooth and cheerful music.
She has a soft demeanor and a fluttering white skirt.
Look, Rin Iijima can keep dancing.
Keep jumping and never stop.
I fulfilled her wish.
…
"Tsk, Itakura Ryozo is really perverted." Kamiyagawa read the newly acquired autobiography from cover to cover.
it's easy to see.
The related strange story in the newly obtained chapter of the autobiography is about the girl in the box who the little old man sensed the evil spirit in the paradise.
Now she has gone to reality.
After putting away "Itakura's Autobiography of Essays (3)", Kamiya teleported directly into Takamagahara, performed a wave of magic spells, and then logged off.
Consciousness returns to the low-rent apartment at home.
Kamiya woke up from the single bed, took out the [Kabuki Puppet] again, and summoned Kushinuro.
He stared at the burly and domineering puppet for a while.
Then he raised his hand to manipulate the thread, causing Kuangshilang to stop in the corner of the room.
Then he tried to pull his consciousness away from the puppet. After several attempts, the Kuangshilang consciousness in his mind was still there due to the split-screen operation, but it just entered the standby state and fell silent.
After completing this step, Kamiyakawa lay down on the bed again.
It was the last game today. He had been in the Kaitan world for a long time and he felt very tired.
"Prajna, help me turn off the light."
Snapped.
The lights dimmed and the room entered darkness.
Kamiyakawa lay on the bed and fell asleep soon after.
He didn't know how long it took before he started dreaming.
It seemed that he was not dreaming with his own consciousness, but that the consciousness of the crazy man in the corner was forcibly turned on and entered the dream.
Kamiya only vaguely sensed what his puppet was feeling.
In the dream, Kamiya River seemed to be back in the haunted house tunnel.
Sitting on the third section of the small train.
The two carriages in front of him were stained with blood and minced meat. One contained thin slices of red and black meat, and the other contained two terrifying eyeballs.
Bang! Bang!
Kamiya heard the familiar sound of cymbals.
After that, the abdomen of the mechanical monkey at the front of the car began to make a high-pitched and funny voice: "The third station, mince the meat! The third station, mince the meat!"
Buzz!
The sound of a chainsaw spinning could be heard from around me, and the strong smell of machine oil and blood mixed together made it difficult to breathe.
Kamiyakawa turned his head and saw a half-human-tall ape standing on the car door on the left, holding a roaring chainsaw and grinning ferociously at him.
"I can't run away, it's your turn." The monkey said.
Buzz!
The monkey wielded a chainsaw and cut into the body of "Kamigu".
But only wood chips were rolled up by the teeth of the electric saw and shot everywhere...
…
To be continued...