Minagawa Keiko was experiencing the greatest crisis of her professional life.
In the studio, she sat rigidly upright, delivering the news.
Her allotted time was twenty minutes.
The most prime time slot.
Both the staff in the studio and the audience in front of their televisions enjoyed her program.
She read the script word by word, perfectly enunciated.
Her intonation rose and fell professionally.
Impeccable, just like her beauty.
On camera.
Professional, dignified, beautiful, an aura of untouchable sanctity.
Only today, a slight tremble threaded her crisp voice.
Maybe the air-conditioning was too cold, or perhaps her throat was a bit off.
Perfectly normal.
Everyone thought charitably, understanding this.
But those with keen eyes noticed the peculiar thing: why, when the AC was so cold,
Did beads of perspiration appear on her pale forehead?
Only Minagawa Keiko herself knew she was teetering on the edge of her endurance limit.
...
Then she fled, stepping rapidly in her high heels, swaying her hips, as if flying from the scene.
Leaving the staff utterly bewildered.
Where was she going?
Minagawa Keiko rushed back to her office in her high heels.
"Bang."
She slammed the door shut forcefully.
"Click."
She locked the door from the inside, kicked off her heels.
Sitting back in her office chair,
The man's face surfaced in her mind again.
Smiling at her.
It was like lighting a bomb.
Her bodily sensations surged, beyond all restraint.
Pink toes curled fiercely within her stockings, gripping the floor.
Her mind went blank. Her red lips parted slightly. She didn't want to move an inch.
Under the air conditioner.
Fang Zuo arrived at the second floor of the Tokyo Tower underground parking lot.
Approaching the entrance to the Tokyo Exorcism Preparedness Police Station, he thought he had the wrong place.
Several pickup trucks were unloading cargo holds filled with rose bouquets.
Many had already been deposited at the station entrance.
The sheer quantity created an impenetrable wall of flowers, blocking the door completely.
A team of staff was moving armfuls of flowers down to the third basement level.
Fang Zuo descended to B3. Passing several offices, he noticed someone was missing.
Where was Sannomiya Tsubako?
He usually saw her come out to greet him.
He hadn't spotted the little figure anywhere along the way.
Her desk was empty too.
He reached his own desk. All the staff were whispering amongst themselves, heads close together.
The workers carrying rose bouquets streamed one after another towards Sakura Kyou Kirumo's office.
Fang Zuo scratched his head, bored. Where had that little one gone?
He walked over to Takeharu Maouri, patted his shoulder.
"Hi! Fujino-sama!" Takeharu Maouri snapped to attention instantly, giving a sharp, standard police salute.
Eyes fixed rigidly ahead.
Probably not even the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Superintendent would receive such treatment.
Since Fang Zuo had dealt with Kumano Hyoee and his senior brothers,
Especially that senior brother whose demonic power was near perfect,
The officers in this office looked at Fang Zuo as if he were the most terrifying shikigami.
"Where did Sannomiya Tsubako-san go? Why isn't she at work today?" Fang Zuo asked.
"Hi!" replied Takeharu Maouri. "I heard her mother is sick. She took leave to care for her."
Mother sick?
Fang Zuo rubbed his chin.
Through the office glass, he could see Sakura Kyou Kirumo sitting at her desk, expressionlessly watching the flower delivery staff come and go.
Intense anger blazed in her beautiful eyes.
Fang Zuo entered her office.
The available space inside was already piled high with roses.
Staff continued stacking them higher.
Seeing Fang Zuo enter, Sakura Kyou Kirumo's expression instantly transformed into one of shy sweetness.
She picked up her phone and cooed into the microphone, "Arigatou! Thank you so much for the flowers. I accept!"
Then came an affectionate "Mwah mwah mwah."
Kissing sounds nonstop.
Her little mouth blew kiss after kiss into the phone.
She saw Fang Zuo come in, glanced at him,
Then turned her back to him, continuing the conversation.
Frequent tinkling laughter punctuated her talk.
Today, Sakura Kyou Kirumo wore skin-tight, shiny black leather pants.
They hugged her ample backside perfectly, the curve of each lifted cheek distinct.
Black stiletto heels made her long legs appear impossibly elongated.
She wasn't wearing stockings; the pure white line of her foot starkly contrasted with the black heels.
Her upper body wore a black, midriff-baring crop top.
Beneath her chest was a leather bustier.
A diagonal holster strap crossed her side.
Her breasts, naturally full and perfectly rounded like peaches,
Were squeezed by the tight leather bustier into an immense valley of snowy cleavage.
Sakura Kyou Kirumo finished the call.
Saw Fang Zuo standing in the doorway.
"Humph."
She curled her lip.
Snorted coldly.
Then ignored him expressionlessly.
Brushed past him and turned to leave the office.
"Hey," Fang Zuo called out.
"Baka, the flowers are from a suitor," Sakura Kyou Kirumo said coldly without turning. "What? You think no one pursues me? Let me tell you, my suitors stretch all the way from Tokyo to Osaka!"
"You..."
"Me what? I'm going on a date with him now. Won't be back tonight." Sakura Kyou Kirumo raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, cutting him off. "Are you going to interfere? What gives you the right? Who are you to me?"
"I..."
"You what? Go be with your Shiraishi Madam." Sakura Kyou Kirumo retorted with a scornful, delicate voice. "Just because she has big breasts. Who doesn't? Baka!"
She finished, thrusting her own ample chest forward, and started to walk away again.
"Matte kudasai (Wait)," Fang Zuo said.
Sakura Kyou Kirumo turned back with a hint of triumph, still maintaining a blank expression. "Ehh~~? What do you want to say? You have to say you won't go to Shiraishi's place anymore! Or forget it!"
Fang Zuo sighed. "I just wanted to say, next time you fake a phone call, remember to turn off your phone's camera."
Sakura Kyou Kirumo froze. She looked down at her phone.
Her delicate face instantly flushed scarlet.
Red as blood.
Not only was the phone's camera on, the flashlight was lit as well.
...
At Tokyo's airport.
A small private jet landed.
An old man wearing samurai attire and wooden geta sandals slowly paced down the airstair.
Two rows of men in black bowed at a perfect 90-degree angle, welcoming the old man.
"Souka! Edo... it has been many years since I last came. Changes are not small."
The old man lifted his heavily wrinkled face, surveying the surroundings.
"I wonder if the old things lurking in these waters... will welcome my arrival."
His large mouth opened, revealing densely packed, jagged, razor-sharp teeth.
A half-meter-long crimson tongue suddenly whipped out of his mouth, lashing through the air.
'Bang!'
It cracked like a sonic boom, scattering droplets of saliva.
"Oh, how I've craved this!" the old man rasped.
At Senso-ji Temple's Kaminarimon Gate and various onmyoji family strongholds,
Warning bells suddenly began to toll incessantly.