Tokyo: Starting with taking on his wife's debts

They turned out to be childhood sweethearts.

His words are filled with guilt towards his wife, grief and remorse for his own incompetence.

This child wasn't crushed by debt.

My mortgage payment is overdue, and the bank has notified me that they will be taking possession of my house in two days. I can't hold on any longer.

There were also loan sharks who broke into his company today, cornered him at his workstation, and demanded repayment while pointing their fingers at him. The whole thing became public knowledge, and he was too ashamed to stay at the company anymore.

As the debt collector left, he threatened to go to Tokyo the next day to collect the money from Riko. He added that his forged pay slips would be exposed then.

It seems that he faced death directly because of "social death".

This kind of thing is a "culture of shame," which applies to Hideaki's survival.

He dared to shout at people around him on the bus, "I dare to eat shit, do you dare to eat shit?!"

The thing he cares about least is social death.

I secretly took out a loan, afraid that my family would find out, afraid that debt collectors would come to my door, and afraid of the strange looks from my neighbors.

It doesn't matter. Even if the whole village finds out, what can they do?

Those with thin skin jumped off buildings, while those with thick skin are still borrowing.

Although Xiuming doesn't care about the company's death, if he wants to live a normal life, he has to keep his identity and pay back the money, but that will take time.

Xiuming turned his wallet inside out, but there was no money in it.

"Cleaner than an ass..."

The urgent sirens were approaching; this time, they were coming for the body of Hideaki, who had committed suicide.

At 10 p.m. on a rainy night, there were still a few people with umbrellas on the street downstairs.

Light raindrops fell softly, the black asphalt road reflecting the pink neon lights of the billboards on both sides, and shoes passing by treading on the light and shadow.

A number of umbrellas had gathered at the crash site.

In the open space in the middle, a sprawling expanse was laid out.

It's like throwing a plastic bag full of mud on the ground with a "thud," splashing mud everywhere and making it unrecognizable.

As the police set up a yellow cordon, Xiuming walked out of the building holding a black umbrella.

Just then, the police were shouting to disperse the crowd, so I walked over to the nearest ATM on the street. As expected, the password was wrong, and the machine swallowed my card.

He hasn't eaten for two days, and now it's raining, with the cold, icy rain hitting his face. If he tries to make do in the stairwell for the night, he probably won't be able to get up tomorrow.

However, their current location is Kyoto, while their address is in Tokyo.

The distance between the two major cities makes walking back simply impractical.

Why didn't Hideaki, who attempted suicide, just stay in his rented apartment for a few months?

Do you have so much shame?

Xiuming couldn't understand it.

The valuable items Xiuming currently possesses are: a pager, a watch, a platinum ring, and a magnetic stripe phone card.

I have to go back as soon as possible and, before the police can identify the deceased, use the seal and driver's license to go to the ward office at my address to get the resident certificate.

After establishing a formal "legal" identity, one can then rent a place to hide. A resident permit is required to rent a place.

From now on, I will only accept cash for odd jobs and will not deposit my money in the bank.

Given their current situation, their bank cards are likely frozen.

Xiuming hailed a taxi, intending to use his pager, ring, and watch to settle the debt, but after asking the price...

If the driver hadn't refused to get out of the car and get soaked in the rain, and if Xiuming hadn't run off ahead of time, he probably would have died a violent death on the street.

The driver swung a metal baseball bat and drove off, cursing under his breath.

How rude!

His attire makes walking at night extremely dangerous.

He carried a briefcase in his left hand and held a black umbrella in his right. He wore a black suit jacket and gray pajama bottoms. Since he had no shoes, he tore off the two sleeves of his pajamas and tied them to his feet.

Look! In this heartless world, passersby who see him all walk away with either fear or disgust.

A logistics truck sped past him, nearly splashing him with mud. Just as he was about to curse, the "Tokyo-bound" label on the truck bed cheered him up.

The logistics truck came from the direction of the Yodogawa Logistics Center in Kyoto, the largest distribution center in the Kansai region, which runs all over the country; it was heading to Tokyo.

The place was brightly lit, and in the shadows, a few furtive shadowy figures would occasionally emerge and slip into the barbed wire fence.

There are too many unemployed people now, many are hiding from debt collectors, and many can't afford the fare. They're all thinking of hitching a ride and smuggling themselves back to their hometowns.

Xiuming also crawled into the hole in the wire mesh he had pried open with pliers, sneaking around and hiding until he found several trucks heading to Shinjuku Ward that were waiting to be delivered.

Only transport vehicles with cargo boxes can easily provide cover; some are at 0°, some at 7°, some at -18°, and some at -30°.

Hiding directly inside would be too risky; what if the driver had a brain fart and turned down the temperature?

After careful consideration, Xiuming hid until midnight when the daily intelligence update was released and tried to pinpoint the entire logistics distribution center.

The first message reads: "A truck loaded with fresh produce at -2°C will be heading to the Ota Wholesale Market in Tokyo tonight. The license plate number is ****."

The second message reads: "In the dispatch room 30 meters away from you, the dispatcher on duty is unconscious."

The third message reads: "The security guards at the distribution center are preparing to go out for a patrol."

These three pieces of information are worth considering and using.

To avoid missing his chance to hitch a ride, Xiuming first identified the vehicle that was about to depart. It was a white van carrying fruits and vegetables, and the rear door of the van was not locked.

Then they quickly sneaked into the control room.

There was only one middle-aged male dispatcher lying under the table, his hair completely white.

He must have collapsed from exhaustion after working overtime all night.

Beside him on the ground was a walkie-talkie without batteries, with a metal casing, a long antenna, and the casing was open. There were also two batteries next to it.

He probably fainted suddenly while changing the battery, right?

Xiuming quickly rolled up a cotton coat, grabbed two cans of coffee, and a box of dried plum rice balls.

Before leaving, he glanced back at the unconscious dispatcher, then finally reassembled the walkie-talkie, ripped off the middle-aged man's name tag, and took it out the door.

Inside the refrigerated truck, at a room temperature of 0°C, were high-end fruits: strawberries and honeydew melons, packaged in styrofoam boxes.

"Power on~"

After a cute female voice prompt, the walkie-talkie started making a series of chattering sounds.

Xiuming turned the volume down, pressed the call button, and said in a deep voice, "Ahem! Dispatcher Muto Shigeo has fallen into a coma while on duty and is unable to perform his duties. He has been dismissed. Send a dispatcher to dispatch room 10 immediately to direct the departure..."

There was a silence of about five seconds on the walkie-talkie before an even more enthusiastic dispatch voice came through.

They're all a bunch of cattle and horses afraid of being laid off.

A moment later, the refrigerated truck's rear door was locked, and then it started moving.

Xiuming ate his first full meal after transmigrating: cold, hard dried plum rice balls and ice-cold canned coffee.

Should we touch the premium fruit in the styrofoam box?

Forget it! Everyone has their struggles. If I have the chance, I'll just buy a whole box.

After eating and drinking his fill, Xiuming wrapped himself tightly in his cotton coat and quickly took a nap.

Next, let's pray the driver doesn't fall asleep at the wheel!

Chapter 3 Mrs. Riko

Ota Ward, Tokyo.

At 7 a.m., gray clouds intertwined with blue sky, accompanied by sporadic raindrops; the sky was about to clear.

A refrigerated truck slowly drove into the Datian Wholesale Market.

The auction primarily focuses on flowers, while also including fruits, vegetables, and aquatic products.

The wholesale market was bustling with people, and there were large groups of small vendors, just like the wholesale market back home.

Xiuming had something on his mind, so he wasn't completely asleep. As soon as the car stopped, he had already prepared his equipment.

The moment the driver opened the cargo door, Xiuming covered his face with her cotton-padded coat, jumped out of the truck, and desperately squeezed into the crowd.

"Damn it! You damn stowaway rat, don't let me catch you!"

The driver just grabbed the carriage door and roared at him through the crowd.

They probably didn't chase after it because they were worried the goods would be looted...

Two police officers approached, a middle-aged man and a young woman.

They also saw Xiuming and stared at him intently, as if they were about to interrogate him.

The girl's youthful face seemed to still carry the air of a schoolgirl.

Xiuming didn't want to have anything to do with them, but as someone who was "clean and didn't even have an identity," what he needed most when facing suspicion was to remain neither humble nor arrogant.

Xiuming looked at the two men and walked straight towards them. Just as they were about to touch the baton, Xiuming spoke first.

"Could you lend me 200 yen?" Hideaki covered the photo on his driver's license with his index finger, showed the address, and continued, "My home is in 5-chome, Nishi-Shinjuku Ward. I want to take the train home, but I'm broke. Because I can't afford the fare, I hid in a refrigerated truck at -7 degrees Celsius and drove all the way from Kyoto. Can you help me?"

"Clam?!"

The two police officers looked at each other, seemingly still not having reacted.

"never mind."

Xiuming immediately put away his driver's license, and as he walked between the two, he loosened his briefcase, scattering debt documents all over the ground.

The two policemen took a step back, lowered their heads, and then their eyes widened as they both gasped in shock.

Xiuming put all the debt documents back into his bag, deliberately leaving a few business cards on the ground. Then he stood up and asked, "Excuse me, where is the nearest pawnshop? Or a second-hand goods recycling shop?"

"There's one there, it opens at eight o'clock."

The middle-aged male police officer, Takuno, had a complicated expression on his face. He raised his hand and pointed to a commercial street ten meters to the north.