I'm making ghost stories in Tokyo

Chapter 30 The Flower Language of Steel Balls
"Okay, go ahead, say goodbye to your wives and children, and get ready for tonight."

After Takayama Shin had dealt with all the households being interviewed, there happened to be a club nearby, so he walked towards it.

The younger brothers smiled with lewd eyes, and then straightened their faces. No one knew whether they could survive tonight, so they tried their best not to leave any regrets for themselves.

Inside the clubhouse.

In a luxurious box, on a bright red sofa, sat an old lady with heavy makeup on. The powder on her face was so thick that it would fall off if she moved a little.

A group of gigolos filed into the box.

Many gigolos looked at the old lady with fear and expectation in their eyes, just like middle-aged men who paid their public grain tax once in one day and had to pay it a second time.

What is surprising is that among the many gigolos, the majority of them have ordinary looks.

This is the characteristic of Fuso. Due to long-term social discipline, women who come here to consume care more about the emotional value provided by men than their appearance.

"You, stay, the others go out."

The old lady in her sixties pointed at one of the new young men.

The young hunk pointed at himself with a look of surprise, while the other gigolos left the box with a look of envy and sympathy on their faces.

The old lady waved to him and said, "Come here, little darling, let your mother spoil you."

Outside the box.

Several cowherds were talking in low voices.

"That's great. I'm finally not targeted by that old witch."

Another cowherd clamped his legs together in pain and said, "That old witch was too cruel. If she hadn't paid me so much, I would have stopped serving her long ago."

Several cowherds shuddered when they thought of the old witch's methods.

These women, who are already in their sixties and have long lost their fertility, are no longer interested in sex. What they are interested in is how to torture others.

This is different from the young female customers that the gigolos meet. They have emotional and physical needs. Women in their sixties have hearts as hard as axes. They have already experienced those pleasant and beautiful things when they were young. At this age, they still come to the gigolo club with only one purpose, to vent their dark desires.

The gigolos all recalled how their tools were almost destroyed. Several also recalled the smell of abalone, which was the smell of rotten seafood. The old witch deliberately didn't take a bath for a few days, so that they...

A gigolo recalled the scene of that day and couldn't help it. His face turned green and he ran to the bathroom to vomit.

Another cowherd said indignantly: "What is the background of this old witch?"

"Hush, keep your voice down, she is the widow of an old gentleman."

"An old gentleman?"

A gigolo was shocked and asked, "Mr. Yijie from the Maple Leaf Club? Wasn't he the last president? He's been dead for 20 years, and his wife is still alive?"

Just then, a middle-aged man wearing a white suit, with a scar on the back of his hand and a brave look, walked down the corridor.

When they saw the man coming, the gigolos who were complaining shut up and looked horrified, like frightened roosters.

Gao Shanshen walked straight into the box.

At the same time, inside the box.

"Sweetheart, give mommy a kiss."

The young man with delicate skin and tender flesh had a look of despair on his face. He curled up his legs and protected his work tools with one hand. An old lady with thick powder on her face was beating him up and down.

The old lady kissed him on the face, just like a dog happily licking its master who had not been home for a long time.

The young man smiled with a stiff expression, and goose bumps appeared on his arms involuntarily.

He smiled stiffly and said, "Sister, stop touching me and sing a song."

At this moment, the door of the box was pushed open, and then the owner of the door, who had opened a crack, hesitated for a moment, then pulled his hand back and knocked on the door.

The young man showed a look of joy on his face. He said, "Sister, someone is coming. I'll go and hide for a while."

The old lady held him back and said, "You stay here and don't go anywhere."

She called to the door, "Come in."

Shin Takayama came in with a souvenir in his hand. It was a precious yokan with gorgeous packaging and a slogan on it, saying it had the effect of beautifying and nourishing the skin.

When he came in and saw that there was no disgusting scene in the box, Gaoshan Shen breathed a sigh of relief.

He placed the gift on the table and said politely, "Mrs. Lijia, this is the gift I brought. I transferred 500,000 US dollars to your pension card."

"I may never come here again, so please take care of yourself."

The young man hiding at the other end of the sofa rolled his eyes when he heard the five hundred thousand dollars, and the old lady was surprised.

The Maple Leaf Society has a history of more than 50 years in Kansai, and the head of the society has changed over three generations. Her husband is the second generation, and Takayama Shin is the third generation.

As a Yakuza housewife, the old lady certainly knew what it meant when Takayama Shin said this.

She sighed and said, "Shen, don't die."

"The gangs nowadays are getting worse with each generation, and they don't follow the ethics of martial arts."

"If it weren't for your care, an old lady like me would have been drowned in the sea."

Gao Shan Shen is a man of few words. Men of the road never fuss about things.

He waved goodbye gracefully.

After Gao Shanshen left, the old lady calmed down and wiped away her tears.

Then, the door of the box was pushed open again, and a male public relations officer walked in with a household cleaning product in his hand, which was an unpacked steel wool.

The male PR looked with sympathy at the young hunk who had no idea what he was about to face.

He said coquettishly, "Sister, I followed your instructions and picked the cheapest and worst quality steel wool from the supermarket."

The old lady took the steel wool, took out a small stack of Japanese yen from her handbag, put it into the male PR's pocket, and said, "That's thoughtful."

She held the steel wool, turned around and looked at the young man who still didn't understand.

The old lady smiled and said, "Baby, do you know what the flower language of steel wool is?"

The young handsome guy frowned and said, "A steel wool is not a flower, so where does the flower language come from?"

He shook his head.

The old lady licked her cracked lips and said with a sinister smile: "It's okay, let mom teach you."

……

Inside a hostess club.

A fat man with a broad body was sitting at a small round table. Two men in black suits with fierce looks stood behind him. A hostess covered in soot was acting coquettishly towards him.

She rubbed her chest against Oota Masato's arm and said in a tight voice, "Good brother, no, no~"

"I don't want to be with those niggers. They stink. My hostess rate will go down after I do it with them once."

Oota Masato sighed helplessly, and the hostess showed a look of joy, she mistakenly thought that her coquettishness had worked.

Masato Oota grabbed her hair, pulled her, and slammed her hard onto the small round table.

(End of this chapter)