Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Seal

The basement was dimly lit, and Ichiro Hanyu’s mood was sunk in such darkness that it bordered on despair.

Once, Ichiro Hanyu had embraced the noble ideal of protecting humanity and served in the Action Department of Deer Academy. Yet his frequent business trips for missions never gained his wife’s understanding. The breaking point came when he was forced to leave his daughter’s sickbed to carry out a rescue operation. His wife, never having spent a full week with him, could no longer endure his choices and filed for divorce. With a guilty conscience, Ichiro Hanyu insisted on leaving with nothing, and so he had lived alone ever since.

A year ago, as the saying goes, “If you walk by the river, you’ll get your feet wet.” Without family ties to restrain him, Ichiro Hanyu became increasingly reckless, and eventually suffered an injury during a mission. Fortunately, most large institutions have positions for idle staff, so he was assigned to the relatively undemanding post of Director of Deer Academy’s Tokyo Branch. Though he had never received any formal training for the job, it mattered little; the Academy itself invested scant resources in this branch. Tokyo was not only the base for several supernatural organizations, but most Japanese, when choosing a supernatural academy, preferred the nearer Onmyo Bureau. Deer Academy’s primary mission was to educate students; resolving anomalies was merely a training method, not a responsibility to oversee local supernatural events.

Thus, although Ichiro Hanyu bore the title of Director of the Tokyo Branch, his authority was less than that of a neighborhood council. He had just six employees, whose daily tasks were limited to sorting physical files and updating digital records. Harusa Hanyu was one of them. Ichiro Hanyu’s own duties were even more trivial: his sole task each day was to write a report of about two hundred characters for the Intelligence Department, the content of which could almost always be summed up by four words: Nothing happened today.

The greatest regret of Ichiro Hanyu’s life was not being by his daughter’s side as she grew up. So, after she came of age, he strove ever harder to compensate for lost time. In the adult world, money seems to hold divine power, and he tried to use it to make up for the absence of familial love.

But what means of earning money remained for a nearly retired, injured middle-aged man? The salary from Deer Academy ensured he could live out his days in comfort, but that was not enough. He wanted to leave behind a fortune large enough for Harusa Hanyu to enjoy a prosperous life.

Tokyo is a remarkable city. With an annual GDP of seven trillion, it reigns as Asia’s leading financial center. After work, patrons in izakayas discuss stock gains and losses in terms of millions of yen. Any passerby on the street might own a property worth hundreds of millions in this city where land is at a premium. At night, one could almost feel the flow of silver through the streets. In such a setting, Ichiro Hanyu inevitably turned his gaze to the Tokyo Stock Exchange, one of the world’s largest. Abiding by the law, he knew the only path to wealth at his age was through there, and so he took the plunge into the stock market.

For a gambler, the greater the stake, the stronger the confidence at the table, and the larger the wins or losses. Deer Academy’s funds came in half-yearly batches, and after a fierce five-second internal struggle, Ichiro Hanyu decided to embezzle them.

Had things gone smoothly, he would not have fallen so low. The once soaring curve plummeted into the abyss after he purchased those shares.

Every stock trader eventually moves from science to mysticism. After half a year of trading, Ichiro Hanyu started with dry data analysis books and ended up rearranging his room, hoping ancient feng shui would help. If gods exist, their daily amusement must be watching stock traders.

Ichiro Hanyu traded stocks.

Ichiro Hanyu lost everything.

In psychology, there is a term called “sunk cost effect”—simply put, people don’t cut their losses; they just double down, hoping to recoup.

Ichiro Hanyu confessed to his six employees. Harusa Hanyu was so furious she seemed ready to bite him, but she ultimately accepted the truth. The confession was not a result of conscience, but because Ichiro Hanyu hoped his staff would find better opportunities. As expected, five employees, out of regard for young Harusa, did not make trouble; after taking severance pay, they went their separate ways. Ichiro Hanyu took the chance to sell the branch’s facilities to the SCP Foundation, regaining some capital.

Ichiro Hanyu made a comeback.

Ichiro Hanyu was defeated again.

Now, Catherine was also helpless, but sighed, “Well then, Mr. Ichiro Hanyu, please issue the mission. We’re here only to carry out the task assigned by the Academic Affairs Office. We won’t include anything extra in our report.”

Ichiro Hanyu rubbed his hands, embarrassed. “Well, the director’s seal for Deer Academy is made of iridium, right? Iridium is worth two hundred ten thousand yen per gram now. Quite valuable, haha.”

Ji Ning was utterly bewildered. It was the first time he’d met someone even less reliable than himself. Only reports stamped with that seal were officially recognized by Deer Academy, and the seal was also proof of identity. Selling the seal was not unlike those who pawn their ID cards. “Who did you sell it to?”

Ichiro Hanyu scratched his head. “I pawned it at a shop… I think…” He swallowed hard. “I think the redemption period has expired.”

Harusa Hanyu could no longer restrain herself; she jumped up and grabbed Ichiro Hanyu by the neck. “You idiot, when did you pawn the seal?”

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Ichiro Hanyu coughed repeatedly, and Qin Mo stepped forward to pull Harusa Hanyu away. Harusa squatted and burst into tears. “Ugh, the seal is gone. What are we now, just a branch in name? Ugh…”

Ichiro Hanyu wanted to comfort her but didn’t dare approach. He looked pleadingly at Qin Mo, who seemed the most gentle among the group. Qin Mo crouched and soothed Harusa Hanyu.

Catherine adjusted her glasses and asked, “Mr. Ichiro Hanyu, which pawn shop did you pawn the seal at?”

Ichiro Hanyu quickly pulled out a set of keys from his pocket. He searched by the bookshelf, found the safe, opened it, and took out a bag of receipts, handing them awkwardly to Catherine. “I think I put all the pawn tickets here.”

Catherine took them without expression and began sorting through. After a few minutes, she finally found the ticket for the valuable seal.

“Suzuki Pawn Shop. We’ll go there tomorrow.” Catherine took a photo of the ticket with her phone, then looked back at Ichiro Hanyu. “Do you want to keep this ticket?” Ichiro Hanyu shook his head repeatedly.

With Qin Mo’s comfort, Harusa Hanyu finally stopped crying. She looked at Ji Ning and his companions through teary eyes. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any guest rooms left.”

At this, she couldn’t help but burst into tears again.

Ji Ning couldn’t bear to watch the responsible young girl cry any longer. He spoke softly, “It’s alright, we have funds for lodging in a hotel.” Even the outspoken Afra didn’t contradict his white lie.

Harusa Hanyu sniffled, lifting her head, her eyes red like a wounded rabbit. “Then I’ll take you to the hotel. If you need anything, you can call me. I’m really, really sorry.”

Even the usually indifferent Catherine couldn’t help but hug the pitiful girl. “It’s fine. Let’s make our task to retrieve the seal.”

Harusa Hanyu carefully escorted Ji Ning and the others to the hotel. In truth, she didn’t do much; with Ji Ning and Zhao Tianxing around, there was no way they’d let a young girl carry their luggage. Still, they smiled as they saw her off.

Watching Harusa Hanyu’s car gradually disappear from sight, Ji Ning stretched and yawned. “See you tomorrow.” He headed to his room.

After a long flight, everyone was tired. They said their farewells and retired to rest.

The next morning, Afra was energetically battling with steamed soup dumplings in the hotel restaurant. The outcome was determined from the moment the dumplings left the steamer; all they could do was scald her with their fragrant broth when she wasn’t paying attention.

Ji Ning chewed on grilled fish and took a sip of steaming miso soup. “I’ll go with Senior in a bit. Qin Mo, you take Catherine and Afra sightseeing.”

Zhao Tianxing, slowly chewing bread, nodded. After swallowing, he continued, “No need for all of us to go. It’s not a mission. You two go wander the streets.”

Qin Mo smiled. Catherine wanted to refuse, but under Afra’s pleading gaze, she had to agree. As for Afra, everyone knew she’d be the first to support such a proposal.

Ji Ning and Zhao Tianxing strolled leisurely toward Suzuki Pawn Shop. The sunlight was perfect, the breeze gentle. Memories stirred in both, and neither spoke. Ji Ning was lost in nostalgia, as if he were still eighteen, walking home from school in the afternoon. Zhao Tianxing thought of someone he’d always been searching for.

“Sorry, the ticket is past its redemption date. According to our contract, the seal now belongs to us,” said the manager, polite and mild behind gold-rimmed glasses.

“We’re willing to pay triple the price to buy it back.” Ji Ning didn’t argue. He knew the power of money and offered an irresistible sum.

The manager calculated, then searched for the seal’s details on his computer. He shook his head. “Sorry, the seal has already been purchased by someone else.”

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Zhao Tianxing frowned. “Can you give us the buyer’s contact information?”

The manager shook his head politely. “Sorry, protecting clients’ privacy is our professional duty.”

Ji Ning and Zhao Tianxing exchanged a glance and had no choice but to leave. Out on the crowded street, Ji Ning called Catherine.

“Hello, Catherine, the seal’s already been bought.”

“Do you know who bought it?”

“No idea. I was hoping you could find some information. Otherwise, we really don’t know where to look.”

“Alright, I’ll get on it right away.”

After hanging up, Ji Ning nodded to Zhao Tianxing, who had just left the drink vending machine. He held deep respect for this cold-faced, warm-hearted senior. “Let’s wait a bit.”

Zhao Tianxing nodded and handed Ji Ning a bottle of soda water. “You don’t mind this, right?”

Ji Ning took it. The condensation brought a coolness to his palm. “When I finished PE class at school, I always bought a bottle of soda water.”

Zhao Tianxing’s eyes grew distant, then he spoke. “I thought only my old school had PE classes.”

Ji Ning smiled. “My school was pretty ordinary too. We had language, math, English, and PE. Science students took physics, chemistry, biology; arts students studied politics and history. When the leadership came to inspect, suddenly a music class would appear on the schedule.”

Zhao Tianxing’s expression softened. “So you, too, only discovered the other side of this world halfway through.” Unlike his usual polite, indifferent smile, this was the first time Ji Ning saw a genuine expression on Zhao Tianxing’s face.

Within minutes, Catherine sent the buyer’s information to the two of them. Ji Ning thought, as expected, Catherine’s major in computer science was well-deserved. Next time, maybe she could try hacking into the national grid through an outlet.

Ji Ning opened his email and murmured, “Junka Kinami, residence in Setagaya, phone number…” As he continued, he realized Zhao Tianxing was suddenly frozen.

Before Ji Ning could ask, Zhao Tianxing pocketed his phone and hurriedly said, “Ji Ning, I’ll handle this seal matter myself.”

He flagged down a taxi, abandoning his usual composure. It was the first time Ji Ning had seen him so unsettled.

Ji Ning watched the car disappear, baffled. He looked at his phone and continued reading; at the end of the email was an ID photo. He studied it, then glanced in the direction Zhao Tianxing had gone, deep in thought. Was Senior lovestruck? Looks like I’ll get some time off, then. Ji Ning chuckled and strolled back the way he’d come.

The young woman in the photo was turned slightly, smiling with dimples, her waist-length hair cascading like a waterfall, a lilac that seemed to have forgotten to follow the march of time.

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