Hearing this, Kaguya's hand turning the page of the document paused for the first time.
A faint, barely perceptible expression flickered across her face.
In that expression, contempt and disgust mingled.
To her, men who conflated power and lust were the most despicable kind of existence.
Kaguya closed the file and said coldly:
"Hayasaka, in the future, there's no need to report any more trivial information about this person to me. I hope our Shinomiya Family will never have anything to do with such a man."
"Yes!" Ai Hayasaka bowed deeply.
...
...
The flu crisis in the Kamiyama Region had subsided less than a week ago.
The public was still steeped in the relief of having survived a disaster, and in fervent worship of that mysterious, urban-legend-like "anonymous hero" who had solved every problem.
The streets had returned to their old vitality, and the Irisu Family's hospital had once again become orderly.
But a new storm, with no one prepared for it, descended quietly.
Masao Takahashi, president of Abundant Future's Japan branch, personally convened an emergency press conference for every major media outlet in the country.
Under the spotlights, he wore an impeccable hand-tailored Italian suit, his face arranged into an expression of compassionate sorrow and heartbreak.
He first lavished praise on the "anonymous hero" who had resolved the crisis, calling him "a technical pioneer worthy of everyone's respect, the pride of Japan's medical community."
"However."
His tone shifted, becoming heavy beyond measure, as if he bore an enormous moral burden. "As a responsible enterprise that has cultivated the medical field for over thirty years, we have a duty to reveal to the public the cruel truth that has been obscured by the hero's halo."
The enormous screen behind him immediately displayed a document titled "Clinical Tracking Observation Report on Long-term Adverse Reactions in Recovered Patients of the Novel Influenza in the Kamiyama Region."
It bore the red seals of several authoritative institutions, lending it an air of absolute authenticity.
"Based on uninterrupted week-long tracking observation by several top-tier laboratories under our company, conducted on the first batch of patients who received and recovered from the 'anonymous treatment,'"
Masao pointed at the data and pathology slide charts on the screen, the sort that ordinary people couldn't possibly understand but appeared incredibly professional, his voice filled with grief.
"We deeply regret to discover that this seemingly miraculous, low-cost treatment carries extraordinarily terrifying, irreversible long-term side effects!"
He paused, giving every reporter below the time to digest, and then he dropped one heavy bombshell after another:
"These include, but are not limited to: progressive neurological decline, irreversible liver fibrosis, and a staggering 30% risk of inducing various malignant tumors within the next five years!"
"We even have reason to suspect that this treatment exchanges temporary recovery for the cost of overdrawing decades of the patient's future vitality!"
"This treatment is not saving people!"
Masao suddenly raised his voice, his fist slamming hard against the podium, his face filled with righteous fury. "It is killing every innocent patient who receives it, only by a slower method!"
"It is a sugar-coated, lethal poison!"
The moment these words came out, the entire venue erupted.
Camera flashes blazed like madness, reporters scrambled over one another to raise their hands with questions, and the press conference instantly boiled over into chaos.
"Mr. Takahashi! Is this report accurate?"
"Does this mean every recovered patient now faces the threat of death?"
"As the hospital that originally promoted this treatment, does the Irisu Family's hospital need to bear full responsibility?!"
Masao raised a hand, signaling for everyone to quiet down, his face once again resuming that compassionate, sorrowful expression. "Our purpose in publishing this report today is not to assign blame to anyone, but to awaken vigilance throughout society."
"We at Abundant Future are willing to provide, free of charge, the most comprehensive follow-up physical examinations and treatment plans for all patients. Because life is priceless."
...
Meanwhile.
In Seiji Fujiwara's penthouse office, he was leisurely watching this opinion war that Masao had so meticulously directed.
On the screen, Masao's face, written all over with hypocrisy and grief, formed a stark contrast with the serene luxury of the office.
"Interesting." A playful smile curled at the corner of Seiji's mouth. "No longer that brute Kengo Yamamoto who only knew force, but a venomous snake who knows how to exploit rules and people's fears."
He knew perfectly well that Masao's so-called "clinical report" was pure fabrication, that his own solution had been perfect and could not possibly produce any side effects.
Masao's move was an indiscriminate opinion attack, exploiting nothing but the asymmetry of information and the public's fear of the unknown.
The maneuver was precise and vicious.
Because what it attacked was not the technology itself, but the human heart. After all, for ordinary people who had just clawed their way back from the brink of death, the words "potential risk" alone were enough to constitute the most extreme terror.
At this moment, the most direct victim of this attack, the Irisu Family's hospital, had fallen into unprecedented chaos.
Furious patients' families, their heads clouded by fear, surged into the hospital lobby like a tide. They waved their fists, hurled the printed pages of Masao's report onto the reception counter, cursing "swindlers" and "murderers" and demanding the hospital give them an explanation.
The hospital's stock price plummeted in response, evaporating a tenth of its value within a single hour.
...
Several partner banks immediately sent sternly worded debt collection warnings.
In the family conference room, the atmosphere was suppressed to its breaking point.
Fuyumi Irisu stood before the enormous screen, her face still maintaining a composure beyond her years, but those tightly clenched fists, knuckles white, betrayed the towering rage within her.
"This is utterly libelous!"
She analyzed it for the family elders who had already lost their wits, her voice cold and resolute. "Every case in Masao Takahashi's report is anonymous, and none of the data has any original source."
"He doesn't dare disclose a single specific case, because they don't exist! This is the lowest form of corporate attack!"
A great-uncle elder asked in a trembling voice, "But... but Fuyumi, everyone outside believes it now! Our stock price..."
"The stock price is only temporary!" Fuyumi cut him off immediately, her voice carrying an undeniable force. "As long as we can prove our innocence, the market will recover its confidence!"
She drew a deep breath and laid out her response plan: "We must immediately convene a press conference, publish the genuine health data of every recovered patient in our possession, and counterattack with facts!"
"At the same time, I'll immediately contact the team of virology experts we've worked with before, and have them prove the safety of our treatment from an academic standpoint!"
"Truth will ultimately defeat lies!"
Her logic was clear, her reasoning orderly, and once again she used her rationality and intelligence to temporarily steady the panicked family elders.
But she had no idea how powerless "being right" was in this war Masao had ignited.
...
...
On the other side of the city.
Seiji watched the real-time transcript of Fuyumi's impassioned speech that his intelligence network had returned, and the smile on his face grew more amused.
"Naive. She wants to use her ruler to fight this world that doesn't reason with her?"
He murmured to himself, then issued instructions to the assistant beside him. "Let her hit the wall. Monitor every expert she contacts, record their reasons for refusing her, and have the call recordings transcribed. I want to see all of her hopes extinguished, one by one."
Seiji raised his glass of red wine, swirling it gently.
He knew that when this proud empress was once again battered bloody by reality, she would once again come to him on her own.
And this time, what he wanted would not be so simple.
What he wanted was all of her. Her time, her intelligence, her pride, and that heart of hers that had not yet been fully tamed.
...
...
Fuyumi acted quickly, quick as a precision machine wound to its limit.
She used her own connections and the family's resources to swiftly organize a press conference of the highest caliber, preparing to counter Masao's slander with the most direct, most powerful data.
But as she worked herself into exhaustion preparing materials through the night for this war that decided her family's survival, her eyes bloodshot from the strain, a call she least wanted to receive, but couldn't refuse to answer, came in.
The caller ID: Seiji Fujiwara.
Her heart sank, and an ominous premonition seized her in an instant.
But she still walked to an empty corner, took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down before she answered.
"Mr. Fujiwara." Her voice was cold and distant, like a slab of ice that wouldn't melt.
From the other end came that calm, faintly mocking voice she so despised.
"Miss Irisu, it seems you've run into new trouble."
No greeting, no preamble, getting straight to the point. "And it's trouble more difficult than a virus. Lies always spread more easily than truth, don't they? Especially when those lies are dressed in the clothing of 'science' and 'compassion.'"
"You needn't trouble yourself." Fuyumi said stubbornly: "I'm capable of handling this matter."
"Are you?"
Seiji let out a soft laugh, full of condescending mockery, as if watching a small beast that had fallen into a trap and was still struggling. "Your so-called handling, is it contacting those so-called titans of virology and begging them to vouch for you?"
"Or do you think holding a press conference and publishing data that ordinary people can't even understand will calm a public opinion stirred up by fear?"
His words were like a precision scalpel, instantly slicing open every one of Fuyumi's plans, leaving her in a wash of cold dread.
This man, it was as if he had installed surveillance on her, knowing every move she made.
"You... how do you know?"
"How do I what?" Seiji's tone remained level. "I'm only reminding you of a simple principle."
"The problem has grown more serious, so naturally, the cost of solving it must rise."
"The previous transaction is concluded. The next time you come, we'll need a new contract."
The hand holding the phone clenched tight, her fingernails digging deep into her palm.
"What do you mean?" Her voice carried a tremor she couldn't suppress.
"It's simple."
Seiji's voice turned uncompromising. "You'll no longer be my 'transaction partner,' but my 'personal secretary.' That means all of your time belongs to me."
"On call at any moment, twenty-four hours a day."
"All of you, in service to me. In return, I'll help you handle that annoying little snake Masao Takahashi."
This condition was a thousand times more vicious than the previous "one night"!
It amounted to stripping away her personality and her independent will entirely, reducing her from a collaborator to a complete appendage!
"I refuse!" Fuyumi blurted out without a moment's thought. "Mr. Fujiwara, don't push me too far!"
"Oh? Pushing you too far?"
Seiji's tone still carried no ripple of emotion, as if listening to a child throwing an unreasonable tantrum. "You may refuse. Then your Irisu Family will be slowly dismembered in Masao Takahashi's opinion war, until you go bankrupt and are liquidated."
"At that point, take a guess: how many furious families will file class-action lawsuits? And what will become of your father?"
"I imagine he won't get a second chance to be rescued from the hospital rooftop."
Every sentence was a poisoned thorn driven hard into Fuyumi's most fragile places.
"Now," he said, shifting tone as if the threat just spoken had never happened, "I need a detailed analytical report on every overseas merger and acquisition project Abundant Future has undertaken recently. I'm at the presidential suite of the Kamiyama Grand Hotel. My 'secretary' should know what to do."
With that, he gave her no chance whatsoever to reply, and hung up directly.
Listening to the dial tone on the line, Fuyumi stood in the cold corridor, feeling a powerlessness and rage she had never known before.
But she had no time for rage. She refused to accept it. She would prove that even without him, she could win all the same!
She began making frantic phone calls, trying to execute her own plan.
But the spider's web of reality was tightening, ring by ring, at a speed she couldn't have imagined.
The first person she contacted was the team leader of the virology experts who had previously praised her so highly. When the call connected, she made her request in the most sincere tone, asking him to speak out for the truth.
"Miss Irisu, regarding this matter... we believe we still need a longer period of observation and research." His attitude had turned strangely cold. "After Mr. Takahashi has raised new possibilities, we cannot rashly publish any conclusions. Science requires rigor."
"Rigor?" Fuyumi was nearly furious enough to laugh. "You know perfectly well that report is fabricated! You saw that perfect solution with your own eyes! You even praised it as a work of art!"
The other end was silent for a moment, then came a helpless sigh: "I'm sorry, Miss Irisu. We have a very important project recently, in collaboration with Abundant Future, with very substantial funding. And Mr. Takahashi has already had a word with MEXT... I have my own team to feed. Let's leave it there. I have another meeting."
The call was hung up without mercy.
The second person she contacted, the third...
Every titan of the medical world she had thought could be her ally chose, without exception, the silence of self-preservation under Masao's offensive of money and politics, citing one excuse after another.
Meanwhile, the overwhelming public opinion attack that Masao had launched had already drowned the entire internet.
Countless paid trolls and bought-off media outlets smeared the Irisu Family's hospital from every angle, painting them as demons who treated lives like grass.
The clarification statement Fuyumi attempted to issue through the hospital's official channels was buried under the ocean of lies in less than ten minutes, even labeled as "feeble whitewashing," drawing only more mockery and curses.
She watched the television, where a so-called "medical commentator" was spraying spittle as he analyzed the dangers of the "anonymous treatment." That same commentator, on another program just last week, had hailed this technology as "an epoch-defining miracle."
As her exhaustion and despair pushed her to the edge of collapse, her phone rang again.
This time, it was Eru Chitanda calling.
"Senpai! Are you all right? Don't pay them any mind! I believe in you! Truth will always defeat lies!" From the other end came Eru's pure, trusting, kindhearted words of encouragement.
"Truth will always defeat lies..." Fuyumi murmured the phrase over to herself, a desolate, bitter smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
This kindness, at this moment, was a sharp blade twisting in her heart.
She knew she had to accept that man's terms.
Even if those terms were more humiliating than before.
"Thank you, Eru." Fuyumi drew a deep breath and feigned calm. "I'm fine. Don't worry."
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