I became Hokage in Tokyo

Chapters 75 & 076: The Art of Immortality

"No, please, please, please, no, don't speak, don't speak..."

Sitting to the left of the man in the white coat, a burly bodyguard in a black suit, his face was deathly pale, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his teeth chattering, and he stammered.

His buttocks unconsciously moved towards the car door, and one hand couldn't help but press against his bulging lower back.

The burly bodyguard in the black suit sitting on the right also couldn't hide the fear in his eyes, his body almost pressing against the right car door.

A large space was cleared on either side of the person in the white coat sitting in the back row.

This was a serious dereliction of duty on the part of the two bodyguards in black suits.

According to past practice when taking guests to see the master, not only must they be searched beforehand, but they must also be hooded and handcuffed before getting into the car. In the car, they should be closely flanked by two men in black suits to monitor for any unusual behavior.

However, this time the guest was not human at all; under that black hood, there was undoubtedly some kind of monster!

Sitting in the same carriage as it is like putting your head into the gaping maw of a lion or jumping into a pond full of crocodiles—it fills you with instinctive fear.

Even though the other party was handcuffed, they were all carrying handguns and didn't feel safe at all.

"Kurosaki-kun, is the air conditioning in this car set too low? Look how frozen these two bodyguards are."

Wearing a black mask that obscured his face, a man in a white coat let out a hoarse, hissing laugh.

The two bodyguards in black suits felt a chill run down their spines, as if some slippery, cold reptile was crawling down their necks from their collars, and their faces turned extremely pale.

"Sir (Teacher), please don't scare them, we'll be there soon."

The elderly silver-haired driver, wearing white gloves and driving a black luxury car, glanced at the rearview mirror and said calmly.

The driver used the word "先生" (shēngsheng), but in Japanese, "先生" also means "teacher" and is generally used as a respectful title for professions that educate and save lives, such as teachers, doctors, lawyers, and writers.

"Oh."

The black luxury car drove steadily on the highway and entered Chiyoda Ward.

Chiyoda Ward is the political and cultural center of Japan, home to the Diet, the House of Councillors, government buildings of various ministries and agencies, the Supreme Court, and even the Imperial Palace.

There were naturally many police officers patrolling the intersection in Chiyoda Ward, but as soon as they saw the license plate of the black luxury car, they immediately and respectfully gave way.

A black luxury car drove into a grand Japanese-style garden in Chiyoda Ward.

This Japanese-style garden covers a huge area, including not only traditional rockeries, ponds, Buddhist halls, and cemeteries, but also modern architectural facilities such as miniature Kazuo basketball courts and small parks. This is in Tokyo, where land is extremely valuable, and in the most central Chiyoda Ward, the land alone is astronomical.

The black luxury car passed through layers of checkpoints at the entrance of the manor and finally drove into the main house.

A man in a white coat with a black hood over his face and his hands handcuffed was taken out of the car and pushed inside by a trembling bodyguard in a black suit.

"Don't forget to take the potted plants out of the trunk," the doctor in the white coat said.

The silver-haired butler named Kurosaki nodded, and another bodyguard in a black suit opened the trunk and took out a potted plant with a small tree on it.

Then the group entered the main house. Although there were patrolling security guards and busy servants all over the manor, the main house was empty.

The man in the white coat was led into the tea room on the second floor. Butler Kurosaki waved his hand, and the two bodyguards in black suits quickly retreated from the tea room as if they had been granted a pardon.

"Can we take off the hood now?"

"Yes, I'll unlock your handcuffs right now." Butler Kurosaki took out a key and walked over.

But the man in the white coat had already reached out his right hand and removed the black hood, revealing a snake-like face covered in white scales.

With his other hand, he handed over the intact, still closed, silver handcuffs.

"Don't go through all that trouble next time. You all know these kinds of toys are useless to me."

Butler Kurosaki accepted the handcuffs without changing his expression.

"This is a necessary procedure for an audience with the master, please understand, sir."

"If it makes you feel at ease, then it's fine," Orochi-sensei said with a smile, flicking out his forked tongue.

Butler Kurosaki placed the potted plant behind Orochi-sensei, then bowed and backed out of the tea room.

"Please wait a moment, the master is still resting. I'll go check if he's awake yet."

In the tea room, the tea table was set with exquisitely crafted bone china teaware. Teacher Da She, as if he knew the place well, found the tea leaves, boiled the water, and skillfully boiled the water to make tea. He rinsed the teaware, brewed the tea, poured the tea, and poured himself a steaming cup of tea.

"A cold-blooded monster like me really needs something hot to drink. Kihara-kun. Would you like some too?"

The sapling in the pot sprouted new branches and buds, and the branches intertwined and twisted together, forming a green monster that looked like a tree person, standing behind Orochi-sensei.

"Teacher, I only drink water."

"It's a real pity that human tea culture is actually quite good."

Orochi-sensei sipped the steaming hot tea, his gaze sweeping across the tea room.

This tea room was naturally decorated with great care. Some of the framed calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls were obviously the work of famous masters, but the most eye-catching thing was a banner hanging in the center, on which four Chinese characters were written crookedly: one percent.

These four characters were written crookedly due to insufficient strength. They were inferior to those of famous calligraphers, and even to those of ordinary people who had seriously practiced calligraphy for a few months. Placed in a tea room full of calligraphy and paintings by famous artists, they stood out conspicuously.

"One percent?"

"This is your first time visiting this house, so this is the first time you've seen this framed calligraphy..."

Butler Kurosaki had already pushed the wheelchair over.

Sitting in the wheelchair was an old man dressed in dark black Wu clothing, holding a wooden cane. The old man was extremely frail, with completely white hair and beard, and large age spots on his face that could not be concealed by the wrinkles. He looked to be over ninety years old at a glance.

Every breath the old man exhaled carried an extremely foul stench of decay.

"Although this country has 100 million people, it does not mean that each person is one hundred millionth of this country."

"One in a billion, one in ten thousand, one in a hundred—ordinary people can only become one in a billion by working like oxen and horses; as for whether they are one in ten thousand, that is determined from the moment they are born."

But his eyes didn't look like those of a dying old man; instead, they were filled with unfathomable greed.

"One percent is the emperor of this country! It's truly unfair that someone like me, who possesses one percent of this country's wealth, has to die of old age and illness just like those lowly commoners who aren't even one in a billion. Isn't that right?"

"So, Orochi, how are your preparations for the immortality you promised me?"

(End of this chapter)