The Seven Deadly Sins II

Chiyu Igarashi believed that the only purpose of emotion was to bind, and he delighted in using it to his advantage.

For instance, the moment Koji Shiina submitted his personal information online, Chiyu Igarashi had already decided the outcome of the next day's interview. He had investigated not only Koji Shiina’s recent expenditures, but also the financial condition of Shiina’s sole remaining relative. It was evident that the elderly woman's pension barely sufficed to keep her from want. Naturally, Koji Shiina stood out as an ideal candidate in Igarashi's eyes.

Who could be easier to control than a young man from a poor family, forced by circumstance to struggle in an environment he loathes? He was young, possessed the courage of youth, yet lacked the wisdom that comes with years—like an uncut gem, raw and unpolished.

It was almost effortless for Chiyu Igarashi to guess Koji Shiina’s greatest wish at this moment: to save up a sum that would allow him to live with dignity. With this knowledge, Igarashi saw no need to conceal the true nature of his instructions.

And as if fate herself wished to play a hand, Igarashi discovered photographs of previous targets in Shiina’s phone gallery—a coincidence that left him deeply satisfied, as though everything moved according to his design.

In the secluded quiet of a café’s private room, Koji Shiina stared in disbelief at the white pill resting on the table. “Wasn’t I hired as a private reporter? Why do I need to make Kunihiko Saito take this at the dinner? That’s illegal!”

Chiyu Igarashi appeared utterly unconcerned. “It isn’t poison, merely something to make him feel fatigued. Our company will be negotiating a business deal with him tomorrow—perhaps this will give us the upper hand.”

Shiina hesitated, hand hovering over the pill. “Are you sure it only makes him tired?”

Igarashi spread his hands with feigned sincerity. “If anything goes wrong, the police will trace it to you. Would our company really risk something so disproportionate to its gain?”

Still, Shiina’s uncertainty lingered. “I don’t know how I’d get him to take it.”

Igarashi shook his head. “If it were easy, why would we need you? But don’t worry—we’ll create an opportunity. All you have to do is slip the pill into his wine glass at the right moment—a feigned accident, a bump, anything. There are many ways. This is extra work, and you’ll be paid handsomely.”

By the end, Shiina was wavering. He withdrew his hand. “I can’t do it.”

Igarashi seemed unsurprised. “Very well. Someone else will handle this simple task. I wish you luck finding a job more to your liking. You may go.”

The word “ideal” gnawed at Shiina’s resolve. Thinking of his grandmother in the distant countryside, he clenched his jaw. “I’d like to try.”

Igarashi adjusted his glasses, a satisfied smile flickering over his lips. “Of course. Young men must try things they’ve never done; only by daring can one earn more.”

Night had barely fallen but lights already blazed at the villa owned by a financial magnate—the evening’s host. The entire villa was designed in black, white, and gray, its marble elements evoking a modern, minimalist aesthetic. Glass curtain walls paired with stone and natural wood created a clean, layered façade.

Chiyu Igarashi kept a low profile, walking with Koji Shiina from their meeting point. After presenting the invitation, Shiina followed Igarashi inside. Igarashi, at ease in such settings, chose a seat at random and signaled for the waiter to pour two glasses of wine.

Shiina watched men and women step from luxury cars at the entrance—people he had never seen before—feeling a growing sense of unease. These elegantly dressed guests seemed born to bathe in opulence. They conversed with practiced composure, their dresses swirling and sparkling heels clicking lightly, jeweled toes and radiant ornaments wafting past him on the tide of powerful perfume.

Exquisite bottles of wine were opened on a whim, yet no one seemed to care about the golden liquid inside. Shiina dared not imagine how long he’d have to save to afford a single bottle of what he now sipped.

His humble origins made him feel utterly out of place—like a glass bead among pearls. He resented the analogy, yet nursed his wine, desperately trying to mask his discomfort.

Igarashi noticed it all. He spoke calmly, “Some say a person’s presence is built on piles of money and the power to do as they please. Perhaps that’s true. But, Mr. Shiina, do you know what I think? Carefully crafted beauty and self-fashioned superiority—these are but bubbles that vanish when met with true grace and nobility. When the path is tangled with thorns, only what is real remains.”

Shiina nodded awkwardly. Igarashi continued, “In youth, there’s a deep awareness—compared to those already successful, we’re more keenly aware of failure’s sting.”

He paused, gazing at the glittering crowd. “Their sense of superiority stems from ignorance and lack of compassion. But it doesn’t matter; to me, they’re all the same.”

Igarashi glanced over the guests before letting his gaze fall to the blood-red wine in his glass. In his cool, narrow eyes, these people were nothing more than well-fed, well-dressed animals.

Shiina was still puzzling over Igarashi’s cryptic remark when Igarashi signaled with a glance: their target had appeared.

Shiina turned. Kunihiko Saito, dressed in a dark gray suit, was surrounded by admirers. But even beside the aging Saito, it was hard not to notice his radiant young companion.

This was a private gathering, and as host, Saito was the focus wherever he went. Shiina, already hesitant, gave up. “There are too many people—no way I can add anything to his drink.”

Igarashi took a slow sip of wine that had traveled from Bordeaux, across continents and oceans to arrive here. The rich tannins and complex spice notes seemed to please him immensely. “No rush. Be patient. Everything is under control.”

A moment later, Shiina understood what he meant by waiting: a late guest, who upon arrival became the center of attention.

Everyone who saw her was captivated by her eyes—striking and impossible to hold one’s gaze, for fear they might fall in and drown, willingly. If angels from heaven chose to visit creation, they would wear her face—a beauty beyond words, so exquisite it was unattainable.

She surveyed the room with elegance and confidence. Every self-assured woman knows to choose an off-shoulder dress for such an occasion. Her bare back was angelic, yet carried a devilish allure. Her slender waist was the very embodiment of feminine charm, and her skirt revealed long, flawless legs above dainty boots. From the moment she arrived, she walked across the hearts of every man present.

One glance left Shiina dizzy, his soul lost to a beauty that defied understanding. It wasn’t just him; the whole room fell into silent awe—save for one man savoring his wine. Igarashi extended a finger, his long nail scraping Shiina’s cheek, the pain snapping him back to reality.

Shiina took no offense. He sensed a connection between this indescribable beauty and Igarashi. “Is this the opportunity you were waiting for?”

“Exactly.” Igarashi alone remained unaffected. As the girl offered a slight bow, “Forgive my lateness,” the spell broke and people awkwardly resumed their conversations, though many still stole glances her way.

Even the women could not blame their companions for being enthralled; they too were lost in admiration. Saito, recovering from his daze, ignored his embarrassed companion and strode straight to the girl.

Watching the two laugh and talk, every man in the room was seized by a single thought: “Why should a rich old man like him get to approach such a beauty? When will he just die?”

Igarashi spoke softly. “Go over there and say something—anything.”

Shiina hesitated. “But they’re talking. It would be rude to interrupt.”

Igarashi repeated his command, eyes fixed on Shiina. “Go and say something. Anything.”

At last, Shiina mustered his courage and approached the girl listening to Saito’s monologue. “Hello, I’m Koji Shiina…”

He was cut off by Saito’s barely restrained anger. “Can’t you see I’m speaking with this lady?”

The gentle girl interjected, “Mr. Saito, Mr. Shiina is a friend of mine. Perhaps he was a little abrupt because it’s been so long since we met. Please forgive his rudeness.”

She turned to Shiina. “Mr. Shiina, if you don’t mind, could you fetch me a drink? I’m rather thirsty.”

Saito, ever the consummate schemer, changed his tone at once, assuring them he didn’t mind. In a daze, Shiina made his way toward the waiter.

Halfway there, realization struck. He looked back at Igarashi, who now raised his glass to him from across the room.

By now, Shiina understood this was no simple matter of gaining an edge in negotiations. Why go to such lengths for something so trivial? That pill could not be so innocent.

To do it or not?

Staring at the wine’s crystalline, blood-red glow, Shiina’s steps toward the girl grew heavy.

Igarashi saw Shiina had pieced it together, but he wasn’t the least concerned Shiina would back out. He already knew the deepest desire in Shiina’s heart—money was his truest stimulant, the one thing he could not refuse.

When Shiina returned, lost in thought, Igarashi raised his glass in salute, sipped the sweet wine, and spoke at last. “Everyone decides what they’ll do tomorrow, but most never move beyond intention. Perhaps ordinary people cannot decide their future, but as an individual, you can at least decide this moment. Well done. It’s a promising start.”

With that, his gaze drifted to Kunihiko Saito. In his indifferent eyes was not a trace of pity—only disregard for the insignificant. These pitiful mortals never understood: it is not age that brings decline, but the desperate refusal to let youth go.