The Woman I Was Flirting With Turned Out To Be A Chaebol Heiress - Chapter 28

When Suzuki woke up this morning, her entire body felt heavy. It was as if her brain had been filled with cement, sealing off all ability to think. Her throat was parched, and no matter how hard she tried to swallow, she couldn’t produce even a drop of saliva.

She had caught a cold.

Her sluggish brain slowly came to this realization.

She figured it must have been because she got caught in the rain yesterday without an umbrella. Just her luck.

Forcing herself up, Suzuki reached for her phone on the bedside table. Squinting, she checked her messages with difficulty.

Nothing special mostly work and study-related stuff, plus some system notifications and spam.

Not a single ripple stirred in her heart. She was used to being ignored, used to existing like some kind of invisible person.

Many people projected various feelings onto her pity, contempt, curiosity but none of it was necessary.

In some ways, Suzuki Wako even enjoyed the feeling. It was as if she were completely cut off from the world, observing everything from the outside.

The people around her, who projected those different emotions, had unknowingly become her subjects of observation.

She liked observing humans.

That was probably why she pursued academic research in the first place. And it turned out she was quite good at it.

Today was May 28th.

She had planned to go filming after class. She had already arranged a time with that person a compulsive gambler who was perfect for increasing the diversity of her experimental subjects.

Wrapped in her blanket, Suzuki lay in bed for a while before slowly sending a message to her supervisor, requesting a leave.

In any case, she needed to go to the hospital first. There was no way she could do any proper work in this condition.

Getting out of bed, getting dressed, eating, taking a taxi to the hospital… Suzuki moved like a cold, detached island. This had been her life for over a decade.

She was her own entire world.

After taking medicine, Suzuki drifted off into a groggy sleep. Even before losing consciousness, she remembered to set her alarm. She wasn’t giving up on tonight’s filming.

She had already paid the subject his participation compensation. If she missed this chance and he decided not to cooperate, she might not get another opportunity like this.

Luckily, her body recovered somewhat after resting the entire day. Though not completely healed, she was well enough to manage tonight’s work. Whatever happened afterward could be dealt with later.

She gathered her equipment. After all, this time the shoot was at a casino a chaotic, mixed bag of people. Carrying an obvious camera would draw too much attention, so she opted for simplicity: a modified brooch cam, glasses cam, and a tiny USB drive disguised on her keychain. All custom-made with considerable effort.

She arrived at Midnight Paradise just before the scheduled time.

Midnight Paradise.

The largest den of decadence in all of Tokyo.

Gamblers, lunatics, criminals, junkies, and those unseen rich businessmen and politicians perched in high towers this was a place where the desperate and the wealthy converged.

The extremes of the world, side by side.

While operating a casino openly was illegal, certain “exceptions” written into the law provided loopholes for those with money and power to exploit.

This sort of place existed because the capitalists allowed it.

And so came into being this dream factory for the poor souls teetering on the poverty line, hoping for instant riches.

Paradise, they say. But this would never be a paradise for the poor.

With help from her subject, the gambler, Suzuki had managed to get a server’s uniform. She threw her hair up in a casual bun, wore glasses, and let her heavy bangs obscure most of her face maximizing her ability to stay unnoticed. She was, after all, skilled in making herself invisible.

Through the gap in her hair, the camera lens peered into this world of indulgence like a second eye.

At 10 PM, she finally found her subject in a corner of the casino.

The man was wearing a greasy yellow T-shirt, with a shaved head and scruffy stubble that looked like spring onions poking through his skin. His face was short, his chin sharp, cheeks sunken, and dark circles heavy. His features were squeezed tightly together, and his hollow eyes burned with the crazed red glow of a gambler.

He grinned obsequiously as he took the brooch from Suzuki. The refined little accessory looked wildly out of place among all the grime.

The casino thundered with noise screams of regret, howls of joy from winners, desperate yells from those going all in… Suzuki adjusted her glasses. This was humanity on full display the perfect material for her research.

Humans truly were fascinating creatures.

Blending in among the servers, she weaved through the colorful crowd with a tray of drinks, always staying within filming range of her subject.

But she was soon disappointed he lost his money way too fast. In just the blink of an eye, he was egged on into betting all his chips.

The chips at Midnight Paradise were custom-made, supposedly to prevent forgery. Black and gold, each one heavy with different denominations rumor had it that some were worth over a hundred million.

The man stared bloodshot at the chips as he bet, his cracked lips trembling with excitement. Who knew where his confidence came from maybe that trashy outfit he wore gave him false hope?

Clearly, the house masters here were the real experts in psychological manipulation. A small win was all it took to push these people to the edge.

And, unsurprisingly, the man lost everything.

His eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he watched the dealer collect his chips. Like a true madman, he screamed:

“No  No!!”
“This can’t be happening!!”
“I still have money! I want more chips!”

He dashed to the counter, yelling about taking out loans, demanding more chips.

“Sir, your loan limit has already been maxed out. You’ll need to repay some interest before proceeding.”

He screamed incoherently, his filthy nails clawing at the counter, drawing thin lines of blood that failed to leave even a scratch. Security promptly dragged him outside.

Suzuki thought to herself: Well, that ended quicker than expected.

Then she spotted it the brooch had fallen into a tile crack just outside the counter.

A janitor was already sweeping nearby.

Damn it.

Without thinking, Suzuki rushed forward with her tray—but ran straight into someone.

The drinks spilled all over her, and splashed onto the person she had bumped into.

“You alright?”

A cold female voice came from above. Before Suzuki could respond, a floor manager rushed over, bowing repeatedly.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Jiang. This girl’s probably new still learning the ropes… I’ll fire her right away.”

“No need… just have her change out of those clothes,” said the woman, then turned and walked away.

Suzuki, meanwhile, watched in despair as the janitor swept up the brooch and tossed it into a garbage bag.

Struggling to escape and retrieve it, she was instead dragged to the staff locker room by the floor manager.

A fresh uniform was shoved into her arms. The manager kept rambling about rules and etiquette, but Suzuki’s mind was already back with the discarded brooch.

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Won’t happen again.”

After finally brushing off the manager, Suzuki ran out to find the brooch.

Thankfully, it had a tracker she had planned for this exact scenario. Tracing the signal, she found herself on the second floor. Coincidentally, a janitor had just been scolded by a guest and fled in a panic, leaving the garbage bag behind.

Suzuki quickly ducked into the nearest restroom. The brooch must’ve been left in that room.

She’d have to wait for the people inside to leave before retrieving it.

Luckily, the conversation inside didn’t last long. Suzuki, pretending to be clearing the table, slipped into the VIP room right after they exited.

All servers wore identical black uniforms, regardless of which floor they worked on stains barely showed. Suzuki successfully retrieved the garbage bag.

What surprised her, though, was who had just exited the room a young girl, maybe 18 or 19, and a well-dressed man who treated her with extreme deference.

Well… in a place like this, nothing should come as a surprise.

Suzuki hid in a bathroom stall with the garbage bag. Just in case, after retrieving the brooch, she immediately transferred the footage to both her USB and her phone. There wasn’t much material today, so she sat on the floor to review it.

But as the video played, her expression slowly turned grave.

Meanwhile…

Mokumoto Aoi carefully compared the video data sent by Li Nianyi, tracing the various locations captured surveillance footage from around Suzuki’s apartment, and the clinic where she had gone on the 28^th all in an attempt to reconstruct her movements that day.

After being suspended, her operations were limited. But thankfully, her former colleagues were still willing to secretly assist. Though troublesome, Aoi had a gut feeling she was getting closer to the truth.

What bothered her was a man who briefly appeared in the footage. She remembered him he was found dead in a garbage dump, cause of death being violent assault and overdose of stimulants.

That lead had brought her to a place called Midnight Paradise.

The only problem? The entire district was a surveillance dead zone.