Only I Follow the Law: An Unorthodox Tokyo Cultivation Routine

Night is a breeding ground for evil, but it is also the time for Han Chuan You to clean up the mess.

Once there was no more noise from Meiyue's room next door, he took back the little paper doll.

The action is gone.

He leaned out from the balcony and looked around.

The detached house next door is vacant year-round, with its curtains always drawn, and generally no one pays attention to it.

A night breeze rustled through the trees, casting dappled shadows, and the entire street was as quiet as a still painting.

He lightly touched the railing with his toes, and his body leaped down silently like a night bird, landing in the courtyard of the empty house next door. He rolled over to dissipate the force, and when he got up, he was already standing in the shadow of the wall.

He landed silently, straightened his collar, and walked towards the street corner.

Every time he went out, he put all his electronic devices into a storage ring. He didn't want the police to trace him back to him based on location data, so he was better off being safe than sorry.

Edogawabashi Station.

He specifically chose a tram stop that was a little further away from the house.

Bunkyo Ward is the educational and cultural center of Tokyo and the location of the University of Tokyo.

In such places, land prices are naturally extremely high, and the people living in this area are either rich or noble, mostly social elites.

The elite class, having experienced all the wonders of the world, find that ordinary stimulation is no longer enough to trigger dopamine release, and thus begin to pursue so-called novelty, using power that transcends law and morality to fill the emptiness in their hearts.

Take, for example, the Epstein case that broke out not long ago.

The ways the wealthy play are far more elaborate than ordinary people can imagine.

Especially when they discover that the law no longer restricts them, the evil in human nature will burst forth like a flood.

Therefore, he was not surprised to find traces of the so-called demons here.

This is what they call freedom.

But it doesn't matter, the price will always come, and he is the judge of hell who will carry out that price.

This is an ordinary-looking detached house, not much different from the surrounding houses. However, if you look closely, you will find a miniature camera hidden in the bushes in the corner of the courtyard wall.

Several well-equipped sentries were stationed all around, constantly observing the surroundings.

Inside, push open a seemingly ordinary closet to find a downward staircase. Stepping down the stairs, you'll discover a huge basement.

The basement was decorated very luxuriously in the center, with a genuine leather sofa placed in the middle and various decorative items displayed around it.

The surrounding scenery was quite different; it was separated by iron fences and transformed into a circle of low cubicles.

The simple huts were like prison cells, with electronic locks on the iron doors, and only certain people had the keys.

There were five or six men and women locked inside. They weren't starving to the point of being skin and bones. They told the managers that starving would affect the quality of the parts.

Two meals a day, the portions were just enough to maintain vital signs, but the taste was so bad it was nauseating.

Some people, due to prolonged imprisonment, have become completely numb, their eyes vacant, leaning against the wall as if they have lost all attachment to the world, leaving only the instinct to survive.

Footsteps echoed in the basement.

A middle-aged man wearing a black suit and frameless glasses walked in.

He was of medium height, with a refined appearance and meticulously combed hair, exuding an air of gentlemanly elegance.

If you didn't see the hellish landscape around him, you would think he was a respectable corporate executive or a secretary in some parliament.

In fact, he is.

Hiroki Yamashita, a member of the Bunkyo Ward Council, appears on the surface to be a diligent public servant, participating in community development and shaking hands and smiling with voters in front of the camera.

Secretly, he was a crucial link in this black market supply chain for human organs.

His job was simple: find goods according to the needs of his superiors, and then maintain the daily operation of the underground base.

From a wealthy tycoon suffering from heart failure to a bureaucrat's relative in need of a kidney transplant, as long as there is demand and the price is right, he can arrange a match.

Everyone locked up in this basement has been successfully matched with a stranger hundreds of miles away.

At this moment, they are no longer human beings, but rather a spare parts depot for the human body.

There are currently six people left in the inventory, three men and three women.

Their ages range from teenagers to people in their thirties; some are homeless, some are foreign workers, and others are marginalized members of society.

Even if someone disappears, it won't attract much attention.

Hiroki Yamashita was holding a box of pizza he had just brought back from outside; it was still steaming hot.

The aroma of cheese filled the basement, and a few people who were still somewhat conscious couldn't help but swallow hard, their eyes fixed on the box of pizza, filled with longing.

The prison food they received each day was barely enough to fill their stomachs, and tasted like cardboard; they hadn't had normal food in a long time.

"Anyone want some?" Yamashita asked, as if greeting his neighbors. "It's Friday today, so consider it an extra meal for you guys."

He walked up to a cell where a young woman was being held.

The woman huddled in the corner; she had a good figure but average looks, and beneath her tattered clothes, faint bruises were visible.

Her kidney buyer was a successful entrepreneur in his sixties.

She just needs to live a little longer until the industrialist decides to have the surgery, at which point her organs will be immediately removed and sent away.

Down the mountain near the iron fence, he beckoned with his finger, as if ordering a dog:

"Have you been hungry for two days? If you want to eat, you know what to do. There's a reward if you do it well."

Although this woman couldn't compare to the famous women in high-end brothels, the pleasure of feeding and controlling people like dogs far surpassed any illusion that money could buy.

The woman raised her head, silently stood up, walked towards the fence, and then knelt down in front of him.

"Yes."

She didn't know why she was suddenly kidnapped here. She had just worked at a convenience store and came home a little late. When she woke up, she found herself here with her clothes disheveled.

Because of her decent figure, she became a tool for these demons to vent their frustrations in full view of everyone.

However, she had a reason to live: her elderly mother, who was unable to move around easily, needed her care. She had been missing for so many days, and her mother must be very worried about her.

But do I really have a chance to escape?

Thinking of this, the woman's eyes filled with tears, and she obediently helped the man undress.

Through the railing, the man squinted and patted her head.

"Good girl."

At this moment, in an alley not far from the detached house, Han Chuanyou, shrouded in mist, was examining the house, unaware of the evil hidden within.

After a moment's thought, just to be on the safe side, he produced an invisibility talisman in his hand. After activating it, his body disappeared from the spot, completely blending into the night, and he made his way towards the house.

In a corner of the courtyard, a sentry holding a samurai sword looked around.

The quiet night made him feel relaxed. He thought that after his shift ended, he should go back to his room and take a good bath, wondering if he could release his pent-up desires on that woman with a nice figure.

Thinking back to how it felt, the man smiled wistfully.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle breeze by his ear, as if something had brushed past him.

He glanced over instinctively.

With a clang.

A flash of inspiration struck him. Before he could even utter a sound, he felt his perspective spinning. For the first time, he saw his own body from a third-person perspective, except that his head was missing. He could clearly see the blood vessels in the cut of his neck.

The blood stopped flowing for a moment before gushing out from his neck with a "plop".

That's...my body?

His consciousness remained in that moment, and then vanished into nothingness.

With a thud, his body crashed to the ground, the blood gushing from his arteries still making a hissing sound.

"Who's there! What's that sound? Number Two, what's wrong over there?"

A voice came from the walkie-talkie.

Han Chuan You didn't answer, but revealed his figure and walked towards the direction of the voice.