Tokyo: They say it's just dating, but they're serious about it.

Of course, other political and business figures with brains bypass bigamy and use mistresses instead.

In today's society, having lovers is commonplace. While men still try to hide it, women are now playing their cards open, meaning they don't reveal who their lovers are.

It's best to use this "trump card" of marriage registration sparingly. If you find someone satisfactory, try to emulate prominent figures in politics and business...

After submitting the marriage registration documents, Katsuhiko, with Mikoto's arm in his, walked out of the ward office.

Mikoto's legs were still weak, so Katsuhiko helped her sit on a bench by the roadside.

She slowly sat down, holding onto Sheng Yan's arm, her expression a mixture of joy and disbelief. Tears streaming down her face, she looked at Sheng Yan and asked, "Am I...am I your wife now?"

“Yes, Mrs. Takenaka.” Katsuhiko took her still trembling hand and rubbed it in his palm. “Chinatsu-chan has become my daughter too.”

Mikoto leaned against Katsuhiko's chest, crying, "I'm so happy, I'm so nervous, I don't know how to be a good wife to you..."

"Keep up the way you did before."

Mikoto suddenly looked up and said, "I'll transfer the house to your name tomorrow, and the convenience store to you too. I also have two million yen in my account, which I'll give you... Tonight I'll make Chinatsu call you 'Dad,' and if she doesn't, I'll beat her up..."

Sheng Yan pinched her cheek and shook it, saying, "Are you out of your mind?"

"You've given me so much, I don't know how to repay you..." Mikoto murmured, hugging Katsuhiko's neck. "Now please let me do something for you, anything at all..."

"If you keep clinging to me like this, I'm going to get my marriage documents back."

"No, no!" Mikoto sat up straight with a start, her head lowered and eyes wide open, acting all nervous. "I'm just too excited. I can't be clingy. You're such a womanizer, you'll have many girlfriends in the future. I don't care, I don't care... Oh, right!"

Mikoto clasped her hands to her chest, rested her chin on her hand, and leaned down in front of Katsuhiko, saying in a pitiful voice, "Can we keep this a secret forever? Let me be happy by myself. I don't want to tell anyone."

"It's just registering for marriage, is it really necessary to get so worked up? You're going crazy."

“This is a responsibility. You’ve given me a reason to entrust my life to you. How could I not be excited?” Mikoto tilted her head and widened her eyes, then continued, “I have someone to rely on now. These past few years have been so hard for me…”

In a male-dominated society, marriage seems to have been created solely to protect women…

“Stop being so sentimental here,” Katsuhiko said, pulling Mikoto up. “Hurry back to the convenience store and help Sayuri! She’s been kept in the dark, which makes her look quite pitiful. We’ve both let her down, so you should be nicer to her.”

"Don't worry, honey, even if Sayuri hits me, I won't fight back." At the mention of Sayuri, Mikoto quickly regained her composure, covering her lips with a smile, and continued, "Sayuri is your wife in public, and I'm your mistress in private. If she finds out, I'll treat her like a lover. In front of her, you don't need to show me any mercy; you can hit or scold me as you please, as long as you don't actually hurt me..."

Katsuhiko glanced at his watch; it was 3:30 PM, and he hadn't called Kenta yet… He raised his hand and lightly patted Mikoto's pert buttocks, saying, "Hurry up and go back."

Mikoto shuddered, glanced around instinctively, and seeing no one around, tiptoed, gave Katsuhiko a light peck on the cheek, and ran quickly toward the subway station.

She's like a 28-year-old child.

Katsuhiko boarded a blue and white minibus heading to the "Watanabe Food Processing Plant".

Perhaps because it was a holiday and he was heading to the factory, the only other person in the dilapidated bus besides the driver, who was over fifty years old, was him.

With windows on all four sides shining brightly, the small bus looks like a mobile metal shipping container.

Leaving the densely populated area of ​​buildings, the asphalt road turns into a narrow cement road, with weeds growing along the roadside.

Scattered factory buildings and lonely chimneys in the distance.

Twenty minutes later, Katsuhiko got out of the car in front of the gate of Watanabe Food Processing Plant.

The place was in a similar state of disrepair; the rusty iron gate was tightly shut, and the gray walls surrounding the factory had pieces of cement slabs peeling off.

The words "Pay back your debts" were also sprayed on the wall...

The glass in the gatehouse was smashed and covered with a tattered newspaper. There was no one in the factory, and no sound of machinery.

The Golden Week holiday should mean a holiday, right?

However, Kenta's invitation letter stated that he was working overtime during the holiday...

Katsuhiko dialed the office number left by Kenta from a public phone booth at the factory gate.

"Hello, this is Watanabe Food Processing Plant. It's a pleasure to serve you."

A woman's voice, slightly hoarse, and not particularly warm in tone.

Katsuhiko immediately recalled the woman with enormous breasts who sat at the guest registration desk at Kenta's wedding a few days ago.

Listening to her voice again, there was a sense of heaviness in her chest, which was undeniably impressive, but unfortunately, her manners were lacking.

“Oh, Ms. Indée? I’m looking for…”

"It's you!?" Yingdai's voice suddenly rose a decibel, as if she had stood up. A few gasps came from the receiver, her voice turned cold, and she asked, "What is it?"

Do you have a problem with me?

"Hmph," Yingdai snorted, then said, "Just tell me what's up, or I'll hang up."

She still harbors resentment about being inexplicably criticized by Sheng Yan on their wedding day, and being called a brainless woman with big breasts... She recalls it every time before going to sleep, and only when she mentally defeats him can she fall asleep.

Is Kenta there?

"Want to come to work?" Yingdai's indifferent tone suddenly turned somber. "Sorry, we're no longer hiring."

Eiyo was aware of Kenta's letter to Katsuhiko a few days ago. She didn't have any objections at the time, since her younger brother had just taken over the factory and should indeed find some trustworthy helpers.

Although he's an rude guy, it's good that he's here at work; I can make things difficult for him and put him in a bad mood.

Unfortunately, Yingdai never expected that her father was secretly gambling, owing not only a large amount of money to the bank but also a large amount of money to loan sharks.

Then the irresponsible father took a sum of money and went on a trip abroad.

Now all the burdens are on Kenta's shoulders. He not only has to deal with bank debt collectors who come to his door every day, but also has to dodge loan sharks.

Fortunately, it's holiday time now, and the workers have all gone home.

But the factory's future was predictable; it was probably doomed, and the poor younger brother was just barely holding on...

Yingdai even considered calling the police to report her despicable father for absconding with the money.

"I don't work here, so tell me where Kenta is?"

Katsuhiko's main purpose in coming here was to wear down the "7"-day countdown that was locked onto Takahashi Kotoha.

"He doesn't have time to meet friends."

"Can't you understand human language? I'm asking you where Kenta is, so just tell me, where's Kenta!"

"Anyway, he doesn't have time to meet with friends, so telling you won't do any good. Just hang up!" Although Yingdai said she was going to hang up, she didn't actually hang up the phone.

"Is your brain all in your chest?!" Sheng Yan roared, gripping the phone, his anger rising. "Do you believe I'll punch your chest out of shape?!"

"Heh, incompetent men can do nothing but yell."

"You wait!" Sheng Yan slammed the phone down before she could respond.

Is the phone number we're dialing now a landline, or the one listed in the brochure for the factory office? Yingdai must be in the factory, so we'll climb over the wall and get in.

Just as Sheng Yan stepped out of the public phone booth, a silver-gray minivan suddenly drove up in the distance.

It darted past Sheng Yan's toes, then suddenly turned around and swerved, its wheels scraping the ground, before stopping at the factory gate.

Katsuhiko was so enraged that his hair stood on end. Before he could react, the van driver punched him through the window and yelled with a trilled "r," "You bastard, are you looking for death! Idiot, moron!"

Katsuhiko almost laughed in anger, unable to think of any way to deal with him for a moment.

As the driver yelled, the car door opened, and eight men dressed in cheap, oversized suits jumped out.

The driver ignored Sheng Yan and got out of the car as well.

Several people carried a stack of flyers and a paint bucket out of the car.

They had a clear division of labor: one carried a paint bucket and wrote "Give me back my hard-earned money" on the wall; another carried flyers and posted them around; the other seven kicked the iron gate and climbed over, while people outside handed them paint buckets and flyers...

Katsuhiko walked to the front door and peeled off a flyer stuck to the door.

The flyer contained two photos: one of Kenta and the other of a man in his sixties with extremely detailed personal information, including his home address and the amount of debt he owed. The sixty-year-old man appeared to be Kenta's father...

"Damn it, put it back on!" The driver, his face dark, rushed over with a glue brush in hand.

“Okay,” Sheng Yan said, slapping the flyer against the iron gate again, and asked, “Are you loan sharks? How much money do they owe?”

"What do you do?" The driver's eyes were suspicious and cautious.

"I'm just a passerby, asking out of curiosity."

"It's none of your business, get lost!"

"Damn it!" Sheng Yan kicked him in the face, then leaped over the iron gate.

Chapter 29 begins to consume 7 days of playtime.

Before the driver could even utter a sound, blood gushing from his nose, he fell backward.

The flyers in his hand and the glue in the metal bucket were scattered all over the ground.

He seemed dazed, probably because he landed on the back of his head. He pressed his hands against the glue all over the ground, his face covered in blood from his nose, and looked around blankly.

A few meters away, another guy carrying a paint bucket, who was painting words on the wall, turned around after Katsuhiko climbed over the gate, looking completely bewildered, and shouted, "Hey! Nakajima-kun, what's up?"

Katsuhiko, too lazy to pay attention to the two idiots outside the gate, quickly ran towards the office building along the overgrown open space.

The seven people who had climbed over the iron gate earlier had already run to the gray office building a dozen meters away.

The glass main door of the office building was kicked open by someone.

They seemed somewhat surprised, and while splashing paint and scattering flyers, they rushed in all at once.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The factory and office building is made of concrete and has five floors. Each window is fitted with iron bars and the window glass is covered with dust.

The office is located on the fifth floor.

The interior walls, originally off-white, have turned a dark yellow, and in many places the paint has peeled off.

A yellow, old-fashioned card-operated telephone hangs on the wall, next to which is a yellowed production schedule.

The window facing the office door has blinds.

Several louvered blinds were bent and deformed, and outside the slats was a hazy gray glass, through which the iron railings, gates, and walls of the factory could be vaguely seen.

The seat by the window is a wooden table used for accounting.

Kotoha Takahashi was sitting behind the table, her eyes somewhat vacant, twirling a ballpoint pen in her hand.

The radiant bridal attire she wore a few days ago has been removed. Her hair, which was styled in a bun at the back of her head, is a little frizzy. She is wearing a plain off-white long-sleeved floral shirt and a simple long skirt.

On the table in front of her was an open job magazine, with several job postings circled in red.