The Second Livestock Secretary
Three months after marrying my beloved husband, Fuji, I became pregnant with the fruit of our love. We were overjoyed. We vowed to raise our child well, to shower it with all the affection we held for each other.
A year later, our baby was born without any complications and grew healthily. I thought our happiness would last forever. But as always, it didn't.
When our child turned three, he suddenly complained of chest pain. My husband and I, baffled, rushed him to the nearest hospital.
The doctor's voice sounded like a death sentence. "…I'm truly sorry to have to tell you this."
It started with ominous words. "Is there something seriously wrong with Huto?"
"Doctor, please…"
We begged through our tears, but the world cruelly ignored our pleas. "His heart isn't functioning properly."
"His heart?"
"Yes. To treat it, he'll need a healthy heart transplant."
"C-can we do it right away?"
"The waiting list is long, so procuring a heart is incredibly difficult. As a doctor, I shouldn't say this, but ultimately, you'll have to go through underground channels."
"…"
"Isn't there any other treatment?"
"Unfortunately, no. Transplant is the only option."
I felt like I could do anything to save my child's life right then. But reality's wall loomed harsher than expected.
Swallowing tears and rage, I had no choice but to ask, "…How much would the cost be?"
It crushed me to haggle over money while my child suffered, but the world's cruelest demon was money itself. Alone, I was powerless.
"…Once we secure the heart, the surgery itself can be done quickly. But obtaining one isn't easy. To get it urgently, you'll need to pay a premium—at least 90 million yen."
"90 million yen?"
"Where would we get that kind of money…"
For our ordinary family, 90 million yen was an unimaginable fortune.
"…We'll think it over."
Seeing our despair, the doctor hesitated before looking at us. "This should be your absolute last resort."
He handed over a business card with just a phone number.
"What's this…?"
"Everything you've heard must remain strictly confidential."
Fuji and I nodded. "This is the contact for our hospital's biggest benefactor. He sometimes covers exorbitant medical bills."
"Should we call right away?"
My husband was ready to dial immediately, but the doctor's face remained grim. "Receiving this aid isn't free. Exhaust every other option first, and only call when there's no hope left."
"Understood."
"Think it through deeply. This could destroy your family."
"…What do you mean?"
"I can't say more. Please, don't breathe a word of this."
The doctor shuddered, as if reluctant to speak further. I didn't grasp the full meaning, but it was clearly a warning of something sinister.
For the next week, we scoured every way to raise the money. But 90 million yen was impossible. Even mortgaging our home yielded only 15 million. Help from our families topped out at 5 million each. Pulling everything together, we couldn't reach 25 million.
I thought I'd do anything for my child, but reality was unforgiving. Without money, the world offered nothing.
"…Honey, what should we do?" I gazed at Fuji.
"Shiori…"
He started smoking again, his chest tight with frustration. Our eyes fell on the slip of paper with the doctor's number.
"…No choice. It's our last hope."
"I understand. It's okay."
In the end, we called the number on that slip. We had no inkling of the nightmare it would unleash.
The request came from an anonymous mega-donor. Clutching faint hope, we hurried to the location he specified.
It was a massive mansion with gardens straight out of a fairy tale or drama.
"…What is this place?"
"Fuji, this guy's no ordinary person."
Anyone in Japan owning such a mansion was surely extraordinary. We shuddered, imagining a burly yakuza boss.
But the man seated in the reception room, guided by the front guards, was nothing like that.
"You've arrived."
An elderly man, wrinkled and white-haired, yet radiating undeniable presence. He wore traditional Japanese attire.
"…Are you the owner of the number?"
"Yes."
Fuji dropped to his knees before him. "Please, help us just this once. My wife or I—we'll do anything. Please."
"Do you mean that?"
The old man grinned, teeth gleaming. We still couldn't fathom his intent.
"Yes, anything."
Hearing Fuji, he glanced slyly at me. "And you, madam? Anything at all?"
For some reason, his question carried unease. I hesitated but knew we had no choice. I nodded.
"Yes, I can do anything too."
"Then we're on the same page. First, my answer: I'll cover your request."
"R-really? Thank you so much. We'll repay this grace."
"Yes, you will. Grace demands repayment."
"Tell us anything. We'll do it."
"Save that for after you see this."
He rose, fetching a thick stack of papers.
"The terms: I'll cover every yen of the medical costs, no matter the amount."
The generosity seemed too good to be true. All doubts vanished upon reading the contract.
-(The undersigned) agrees to serve as secretary to the creditor Kamijo until the debt is fully repaid.
-(The undersigned) consents to delegate all physical and mental rights to Kamijo for secretary duties.
-This contract terminates automatically upon full repayment of all debts.
"Physical and mental rights? What does that mean?"
"Ah, I should have explained first."
The old man smiled kindly. "Exactly as it says. The money I provide is essentially a debt—no interest, payable in installments. In return, you'll serve as my livestock secretary until it's repaid."
"I get that part. It's the 'rights' I'm asking about."
"It means I own your body and mind completely."
"…Are you telling my wife to sell her body?"
Fuji exploded at the absurdity.
"Sell her body? Nothing so vulgar."
"Then what does this mean…!"
"Stop it, honey."
As I stood, Fuji stared in disbelief. "Shiori…"
"This is my contract. Let me speak."
"…"
I faced the old man directly. "Be clear about what you'll make me do."
"Hm, plenty. Basic secretarial work, body development, satisfying basic urges."
His brazen frankness left me speechless. "…How can you say that so casually."
"Did you think 90 million yen—possibly over 100 million—comes cheap?"
"Well, yes, but…"
As we wavered, he drove the nail in. "Decide quickly. Many couples seek this aid. Most wives agree to these terms."
"Fuji, I'm accepting this."
"Shiori!!"
"Better this than watch Huto suffer without helping. This is my true feeling."
"Impressive maternal instinct. Most wives take the lead, as you've seen."
"…Okay, honey."