In the distance were the mottled neon lights of the big city of Tokyo.
He felt like smoking a cigarette.
He used to smoke, but he quit because his roommate didn't like it.
Ever since he transmigrated, the complexity of his thoughts had reawakened his craving for cigarettes.
However, Japan's laws on "prohibiting the sale of tobacco to minors" are exceptionally strict, and he would simply be kicked out if he went to a convenience store.
Hayato seemed to have forgotten something very important.
He had been trying to recall it for a long time, but still couldn't remember, which was why he wanted a cigarette to clear his head.
On the road not far below, a junior high school girl, who had just finished her cram school and was carrying a backpack, appeared in Hayato's line of sight.
"Oh, I remember now, I forgot to do my homework."
Hayato quickly jumped off his desk and swiftly pulled out his textbooks and exercise books.
To both play and complete homework, that's what makes for a healthy student life.
Just as he was about to write.
Some sounds came from the doorway.
The apartment building here is cheap, so the sound insulation is not good.
Just now, from the apartment next door, there were heavy "Oh yeahs" and sweet "Yametehs," a blend of Japanese and foreign, you could say.
This time, the conversation seemed a bit more normal.
And it wasn't coming from the adjacent room, but from the hallway.
"Oh~~ Madam, why are you here alone?"
Yet, one could still hear that this rap-style speech still came from an old-fashioned cotton picker.
Every time he heard this voice, Hayato would recall the grand scene in the plantations two or three hundred years ago.
Hayato hated two kinds of people in his life.
The first kind are racists, and the second kind are black people.
Of course, he didn't think there were no good people among black people, but even if there were, what did it matter to him? He hadn't met any anyway.
At least the black man named "Mike" outside right now was not a good person.
Takahashi Administrator said he had just moved in recently.
And this afternoon, when Hayato was going upstairs to his home, he happened to run into the black man.
Hayato walked up.
And the black man came down.
The two briefly made eye contact, Hayato didn't speak.
The black man then spoke with an accent like a cotton picker starting up:
"Oh, are you a resident here too? I'm Mike, I just moved in, may I ask who you are?"
He spoke Japanese, but not very clearly.
"Kobayashi." Hayato nodded.
Then he saw a woman following him, wearing a crop top and a mini skirt, a bit older than Hayato, but still considered "young."
She was dressed flashily, but her makeup was heavy, and her skin was also very loose.
Hayato sighed, it seemed she was simply a call girl.
Mike also noticed Hayato's gaze. He grinned, and among the black man's entire body, only his teeth were clean.
But this smile did not contain any goodwill; instead, it was filled with strong mockery and disdain.
Hayato pretended not to see, angled his body past Mike, and continued to walk up.
And Mike turned around and slapped his female companion's butt, "Pa," a very hard and loud sound,
"Yeah~ Yurika, aren't I much better than Japanese people!?"
"…Yes, yes." Yurika's reaction was two or three seconds slow, then she made a sweet, seductive female sound, and her whole body pressed tightly against the black man's strong physique: "Of course, Dad, you're the best~~"
"Best at what?"
"I already said 'best'~~ What else is best?"
These conversations seemed deliberately intended for Hayato to hear.
Hayato indeed heard them clearly.
But what did it matter to him? He was Chinese.
"How can you cry? Everything will be fine, everything will pass, you just have to think~~~???"
Amidst Hayato's cheerful singing, Mike "tsk"ed, glancing back at the former, who was nonchalant and completely ignored him, then fiercely pinched Yurika's large hip:
"Let's go eat first, and when we get back, Papa will screw you over!"
"Okay~~" Yurika's gaze also looked towards Hayato's retreating back, as if she hadn't had enough.
…
"Oh, right."
Hayato remembered. He felt his pocket and pulled out a business card.
It had "Yuri Kaori Momoki, Contact Information — — — —" written on it.
The round-faced woman seized the opportunity to slip it to him when the Negro wasn't paying attention.
Hayato then casually tossed her into the trash can.
He clasped his hands together and bowed.
"My Buddha does not save idiots," he said.
"Please… don't do this."
Outside, besides the Black man's continuous rap, a delicate voice also sounded, seemingly resisting something.
Even though he couldn't see the person through the wall, Hayato could roughly imagine that this should be a beautiful woman, at least more reliable than the one in the trash can.
And this weak resistance made Hayato's… fist harden.
Holy cow, what a strong sense of déjà vu, the bull-headed radar moved!
However, Hayato was here with a purpose this time; he didn't open the door rashly, but instead pushed his black-framed glasses with his middle finger.
He smiled faintly.
After penetrating the wall, he could see every pore of the 'lady' outside clearly using the glasses' X-ray function!
Then Hayato's mouth dropped open?
He, might have seen a ghost.
...
Mike was overjoyed.
The 'clanging' knocking on the door had interrupted his work on Yurika's belly, making him particularly annoyed.
But after opening the door and seeing the knocker, his eyes were almost bloodshot.
It was a young and beautiful woman.
Long, light blue hair was tied into a rather mature bun.
Her eyes were like the sea, her pretty face surpassed snow, her small mouth was rosy, and her cheeks were also pink.
Even though it was spring and the weather was gradually getting warmer, she was still wearing a sweater, with a blue OL-style jacket draped over it.
The hip-hugging skirt perfectly accentuated her perky backside, and black stockings tightly encased her round thighs.
She had the look of a very traditional Japaneselady.
She was a stunner.
Mike gave her the highest praise, and immediately deduced that she was the lady who lived on the fifth floor.
When he moved in, he had jokingly asked the manager, Takahashi, if there were any beauties in this apartment building.
Takahashi happily told him that there was a very beautiful lady living on the fifth floor.
Mike was certain it was the woman in front of him!
How could he let her go!?
"Please… be a little quieter," the lady said, her cheeks flushed.
Seeing her somewhat lustful appearance, Mike's appetite grew even more.
What were goods like Yurika, bought with money!? A real man should snatch a good woman!
"Heh heh, madam, are you… also interested in this kind of thing?" Mike said with a smile, pressing closer.
Because he opened the door in a hurry, he only wore a bath towel when he came out, and now he was exerting himself to make his chest muscles look more developed.
"...Disgusting," the lady, however, turned her head away, as if muttering something.
Mike thought the lady was shy and playing hard to get, and couldn't help but be amused, "Japaneseladies are so reserved!"
Then,
With a "bang."
The door seemed to be kicked open, and Mike's head, standing at the doorway, was loudly slapped by the wooden door.
"Oh my, so there was someone else standing here, my apologies, my apologies, I really didn't see you." Hayato was startled, then apologized: "But it's still my fault, my fault, even if I didn't see you, I should have smelled you. Speaking of which, Mr. Mike, do you know why Black people have body odor?"
Mike witnessed a completely unreserved Japaneseman.
...
...
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