Evil Zaibatsu

The silence in Isshin Arima's private study was broken only by the soft hum of the servers around him. The system interface hovered in front of his eyes, lines of debtor data cascading like a waterfall. Names, amounts, collaterals—it was a ledger of desperation, and Isshin enjoyed reading it like a menu.

His finger paused mid-air. A name caught his attention:

Debtor #082431

Name: Shinosuke Ichijou

Debt: ¥200,000,000

Collateral: Yurika Ichijou (daughter, 17, senior high school student – Tokyo Minami District)

Status: Default. Legal recourse initiated. Lethal option pending.

Isshin's lips curled into a wicked grin.

"A man who sells his child to gamble on dreams," he murmured. "Fitting prey for a hunter like me."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers tented, as the system chimed once again. The profile of Yurika Ichijou appeared beside her father's contract. Her photo—school uniform, brown eyes wide, unaware of the world's cruelty—only made Isshin's smile widen.

"She'll be useful," he said, voice low. "In more ways than one."

Meanwhile, across the city, Shinosuke Ichijou clutched a crumpled notice in his shaking hands. His office, once filled with architects and engineers, now echoed with emptiness. The debts had consumed everything—contracts failed, partners abandoned him, and now Katsurai Finance, under new leadership, threatened to destroy the final pieces of his life.

"Full asset seizure in 48 hours."

"Delinquent penalty: ¥100,000,000."

"Final Warning: Comply or face execution."

His breath trembled as he read the last line. Execution. He had heard the rumors. When clients failed, they vanished—"suicides" with no notes, "accidents" with no survivors.

He couldn't let that happen. And worse, he remembered what he'd done—he had signed away his daughter as collateral. It was meant to be symbolic. No one had ever enforced that clause.

Until now.

He called the Katsurai office immediately. "I need to speak with the owner. Face to face."

The secretary answered coldly. "You're in luck. Mr. Arima will see you today."

The office of Katsurai Finance had changed since the takeover. Gone were the gaudy golds and faux-wealth decorations. Now, everything was dark wood and obsidian stone. A place that didn't pretend to be moral. It just was power.

Shinosuke entered, his suit wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. He was ushered into the upper floor, where Isshin Arima waited, standing by the window, watching the Tokyo skyline bleed orange in the sunset.

"You are Shinosuke Ichijou?" Isshin asked without turning.

"Yes. Please, I—"

"You borrowed two hundred million yen from my company," Isshin interrupted. "You defaulted. Your penalty interest is another hundred million. You are, in short, a man who writes checks he cannot cash."

"I was tricked!" Shinosuke pleaded. "My contractor ran with the money. I didn't know he'd betray me—"

Isshin turned. His red eyes glinted like coals. "The world doesn't care about betrayal. It only remembers weakness."

Shinosuke's knees nearly buckled. "Please. I'll work for you. I'll pay it back—just, please, don't take my home. Don't kill me."

Isshin's expression did not soften. "I'm not interested in your life," he said. "I'm interested in your daughter."

The air seemed to freeze. Shinosuke blinked. "What...?"

Isshin stepped forward, calm, composed—like a butcher discussing cuts of meat. "Yurika Ichijou. Your only collateral of value. Hand her over, and your life will be spared. Your debt will be... adjusted."

Shinosuke trembled. "You can't be serious."

"I assure you," Isshin said, eyes glowing faintly, "I am very serious."

Shinosuke's mind raced. Images of his daughter laughing at breakfast, her schoolbag slung over her shoulder, her dreams of becoming an interior designer—how could he possibly...?

But the alternative was death. If he died, she would be taken anyway. Brutally. Without mercy.

"I... I want your word she'll be safe," Shinosuke croaked.

Isshin's smile returned. "She will be under my care. That is all you need to know."

And in that moment, Shinosuke Ichijou broke.

With tears forming in his eyes and his voice hollow, he whispered, "I accept the terms."

Isshin stepped forward and extended his hand. "Then it is done."

Their hands touched. The system chimed again.

[Contract Sealed: Soulbound Exchange Confirmed]

[Yurika Ichijou - Claimed Property of Isshin Arima]

Back at the mansion that evening, Sebas stood beside Isshin as they watched the rain paint streaks across the tall windows.

"She will arrive within three days," Sebas reported. "Shinosuke delivered a notarized consent."

Isshin merely nodded. "Did you know, Sebas, that desperation has a taste? It's like iron... bitter, but rich."

Sebas didn't reply. He had long stopped questioning his master's appetites.