Mother and Daughter Fallen to Livestock
[Illustration] Mitsuki. She was Kenchi's daughter. Of course, not Yujin's biological child. Ever since her mother passed away and her father brought in his new wife, Yujin, Mitsuki couldn't help but feel resentful every time she saw her. Some Korean girl from who-knows-where had swooped in and filled the void left by her precious mother. On top of that, Yujin wasn't much older than her. They were both in their twenties, after all. That made Mitsuki the one who hated Yujin the most. So, she chose "study abroad" as her escape. She simply couldn't live under the same roof as Yujin. Her father, a high-ranking politician, had more than enough money to send his one daughter overseas anyway.
Thus began Mitsuki's life in America. But someone who had fled abroad for such superficial reasons wasn't likely to thrive. She mostly indulged in a debauched lifestyle—hanging out with the so-called bad crowd, drifting through slums. Unless something drastic happened, her days weren't going to change much.
Then came the shocking news that would shatter her entire existence up to that point: her father's obituary. The message said he had passed away and urged her to return to Japan for the funeral.
"Father...?"
No matter how she racked her brain, she couldn't imagine her healthy father dying. Only one thing came to mind: that woman, Yujin. That bitch had to be involved in this suspicious death. Nothing else made sense. To confirm it, Mitsuki headed straight back to Japan.
"Boss, she's boarded."
Tojima's face lit up at his secretary's report. "You've confirmed it? Then tell them to hurry to the airport and pick her up."
The arrangements with the Prime Minister were already in place. As long as Tojima secretly snatched Mitsuki, it would be as if she'd never set foot in Japan. Speed was key—speed that left no traces. The Prime Minister's opponents, who suspected foul play, had likely caught wind of Mitsuki while investigating Kenchi. They'd just acquired records of the two who left for America not long ago. If Tojima got to her first, they'd come up empty-handed.
"I'll go myself."
To ensure no mistakes, Tojima had to handle it personally. He rushed toward the airport.
Quite some time later, the plane carrying Mitsuki finally landed. Tojima and his men began scouring the exits for her.
That's when it happened.
"Boss, found her. Gate 8."
"Got it."
As planned, Tojima headed alone to Gate 9, where Mitsuki would emerge. The moment he spotted her, he recognized her instantly.
"Mitsuki! Over here!"
Tojima even shouted to get her attention.
"...Uncle Tojima?"
Mitsuki recognized him too. It had been years since she'd last seen him. Kenchi wasn't the type to warn his daughter in America about Tojima, and Yujin was in no position to contact anyone. To Mitsuki, Tojima was just her father's kind old friend from childhood.
"What brings you here?"
"I was the one who sent you Kenchi's obituary."
"You? Then what about that bitch?"
"That bitch?"
"The one who stole Father's heart."
Tojima instinctively knew she meant Yujin. Their bad blood was music to his ears. He darkened his expression and spoke slowly.
"Truth is... Kenchi's death is suspicious. But I don't have the authority to investigate, so I called you. You're his blood kin."
His performance was flawless—anyone overhearing would buy it completely.
"I knew it... that bitch."
"I suspect so too, but as his wife, she's untouchable."
A complete lie, of course. Yujin was already in their clutches.
"Mitsuki, uncover the truth. I'll help however I can. Reveal what really happened to Kenchi."
"Got it."
"Let's head to my office first."
Mitsuki climbed into Tojima's car without a second thought. Once she buckled her seatbelt, Tojima glanced at her.
"Mitsuki, do you know if anything happened to Kenchi?"
"No, not really."
"Kenchi was framed, actually. By me."
Mitsuki furrowed her brow at his confession.
"What the—"
In that instant, Tojima pressed a chloroform-soaked rag over her mouth. Strapped into the car seat, she couldn't fight off a grown man's strength.
"Mmph!"
The fumes hit her nostrils, and Mitsuki blacked out instantly. Tojima smirked at her slumped form.
"Father and daughter, both idiots."
Instead of his office, Tojima's car veered toward a modest rural area on the outskirts.
A rural village bristling with heavy security. An out-of-place luxury sedan pulled up. The door opened, and Tojima stepped out. His secretary followed, hefting a heavy burlap sack.
Prime Minister Ryosuke awaited him.
"Did you bring the goods?"
"Of course."
Inside the sack lay Mitsuki, still deep in drugged slumber. Ryosuke smiled and handed Tojima some documents.
Photo of Mitsuki (date unknown). Classified document—soon to be public. Her status as a human is effectively terminated.
That's when Mitsuki began stirring, waking from her stupor.
"...Where the hell am I?!"
They opened the shaking sack to reveal an furious Mitsuki inside.
"Uncle Tojima, what the fuck is going on? Where is this place?"
Her clothes were rumpled as she raged. Tojima approached and snapped.
"Shut your mouth and get in there quietly. I'll bring you that Yujin bitch you've been dying to see."
Mitsuki reeled at Tojima's sudden vulgarity. The space he directed her to was pitch-black and dank—an old tatami room. As Mitsuki entered, Ryosuke suggested,
"Should we tie her up first, just in case she causes a scene?"
"Good idea."
When the secretary arrived with thick ropes at Tojima's order, Mitsuki screamed nonstop.
"Kyaa! What are you doing? Get out! You dumb brute!"
But the secretary wrenched her wrists behind her back, bound them with rope, and cinched it tight around her chest—above and below her breasts. With her chest thrust out prominently, Mitsuki shrieked at Tojima.
"You tricked me!"
"Gag that mouth too. It's hurting my ears."
As Mitsuki bellowed, Tojima ordered. The secretary quickly gagged her and tied it to a pillar. Mitsuki ground her teeth and glared daggers, but Tojima just laughed.
"Kenchi's wife, now his daughter. Looking at that body, she'll be fun to break."
The pillar's pulley hoisted her up, stretching her thin clothes taut and exposing her underwear beneath.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
"Loosen the gag a bit."
Once freed, Mitsuki could finally speak properly.
"What the hell are you planning to do to me?!"
"If you really want to know, I'll tell you."
Tojima nodded lazily, and the tatami room's door creaked open. Ropes and pulleys groaned as something was dragged in. Moments later, a woman appeared—arms and legs bound in midair, her soaked panties on full display. The sight was repulsive. Eyes blindfolded, face flushed, panting heavily—it was everything Mitsuki despised. Like a slave to lust, or a woman whoring herself for something she wanted from a man.
"What the fuck? Why show me trash like that?"
Mitsuki grumbled at the dragged-in woman. Tojima grabbed a whip and lashed her back.
Crack.
A red welt bloomed on her sweat-glistened white skin. The woman convulsed in agony.
"Urghhh!"
It looked excruciating. Up close, her body was covered in welts and bruises—she'd clearly endured this torment for a long time.
"You're not seriously gonna do that shit to me, are you?"
Mitsuki asked in horror. Tojima shook his head.
"As if. Mitsuki, you've got something far more important to do."