When you hold the grain in your hand, the chickens will come to you of their own accord.

The likelihood of pregnancy complications is extremely high for older expectant mothers, with slower postpartum recovery and the risk of various lasting health issues, causing significant harm to a woman’s body. Anyone over thirty-five is considered an advanced maternal age.

Yuko Shimizu was clearly well beyond that age, especially since she had never given birth before. Coupled with the decline in bodily functions that comes with age, childbirth for her was truly like facing death’s door.

Perhaps Yuko Shimizu wanted a child.

But she was afraid.

After all, for a life that only exists once, while a child is important, it didn’t seem overwhelmingly so.

Yet she had even gone as far as to call and inform him...

To be honest, this ripe grape that hadn't been peeled was indeed delicious, but the close friend of this mother wasn’t exactly a villain in the strict sense. If it hadn’t been for Tsukasa Harano’s deliberate disguise and manipulation, she wouldn’t have been coaxed into revealing the dark thoughts hidden deep within. This time, Tsukasa could be said to have been fishing for evidence, mainly because the reward for indulging in such dark desires was too tempting for him to resist.

It was greed that drove him.

Even though he considered himself a wreck, Tsukasa Harano could not escape a shred of moral guilt over this matter.

However, this situation could be remedied.

But compared to the unresolved troubles Yuko Shimizu was facing, Tsukasa was prepared to first claim this reward.

[Reward: Major Appearance Enhancement Card]

[Reward: Automatic Salary Increase Card (1 yen/s)]

He had already used the salary increase card last night.

After all, time is money.

Every second that passed brought wealth to Tsukasa. Counting his previous accumulations, his automatic salary increase had now surpassed 2 yen per second.

[Automatic Salary Increase: 2.4 yen/s (Activated)]

[Salary Accumulated: 407,267.8 yen]

It seemed insignificant at first glance, but the true power lay in its accumulation over time. Converted annually, this automatic raise now amounted to over 80 million yen.

What profession could earn so much?

An ordinary doctor, exhausted from surgeries, might only earn a few tens of millions annually. Even the top actresses in the adult industry might only make a billion or two yen per year. Though both earned money passively, the difficulty and experience were worlds apart.

“This appearance enhancement card...”

Tsukasa glanced at his accumulated salary, then turned his attention to another card glowing faintly red on the screen.

Silently, he willed it to activate.

The faint red card slowly vanished.

Compared to the subtle, gentle sensation he’d felt last time, this one was far stronger. Especially as Tsukasa stood in his apartment’s bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, he could see visible changes with the naked eye.

His appearance had always been average; his skin, damaged from long nights and poor diet, was rough with enlarged pores and lacked firmness.

Yet, staring back at him in the mirror, his skin had quietly transformed into a healthy pale tone—neither fragile nor sickly. The pitted texture on his face had disappeared, as if a smoothing filter had been applied, but it looked completely natural.

Beyond that, even his nose bridge seemed more pronounced, his features sharper—not turning delicate, but moving closer to the golden ratio.

His hair ends turned jet black, and his irises, once brownish from lifelong exposure to oxygen, were now dyed black again. His eyes appeared gentler, and standing in a crowd, one could easily spot that he was different.

He had become handsome.

Visible to the naked eye.

---

Though the face was still the same, anyone who saw it would recognize Tsukasa Harano immediately—but he was undeniably much more handsome than before, and the difference was striking.

He now ranked as a handsome man in Tokyo.

Not the flashy kind of charm a host might have.

Though he often comforted himself with survivor bias and similar thoughts, no man dislikes becoming more attractive. This wasn’t about how appealing he was to women; it was the human heart’s innate pursuit of beauty. In short, his current state of mind was simple: he believed being a handsome Tokyo man was nothing to scoff at.

Moreover, all this was due to his own efforts!

After admiring his refined face for a while, Tsukasa quickly washed up in his apartment, changed into the new clothes he had bought earlier from Ryuka Hoshino, and headed out once more.

Today, he had to attend a couple’s party.

He had made plans with Shun Komatsubara.

After eating a bowl of beef rice from Yoshinoya, Tsukasa started his car and set off toward the Ikebukuro Line Expressway.

Honestly, Tsukasa was a bit tired. He’d only started using the Malice List to plan and act about four or five days ago, yet more had happened in these few days than in the entire previous year. Although not working meant no early mornings, he somehow felt busier than ever.

This was different from his expectations, but since this was his career, enduring hardship before sweetness was normal.

His destination was Nerima Ward.

Shun Komatsubara had warned him to arrive before 2 p.m. This timing was clever; even if someone had a rough hangover the night before, by this hour, they’d mostly be recovered.

The venue was inside a villa.

Though called a villa, it was essentially a party house.

Inside were karaoke rooms, a small bar area, and a terrace lawn. Komatsubara had sent Tsukasa an electronic flyer beforehand, and it looked quite upscale—not the kind of place college students could rent casually for a day. It was probably expensive, especially considering the cost of drinks.

The twenty kilometers from Ikebukuro to Nerima weren’t far, but the traffic was heavy after leaving the expressway.

Japan’s roads weren’t very wide—mostly two lanes facing each other. Even Shibuya’s six-lane roads, though wide, couldn’t ease the traffic pressure.

Tsukasa wasn’t in a rush.

After about twenty minutes stuck in congestion, traffic thinned as he neared the outskirts.

Following the map, he arrived at a row of townhouses. From a distance, he saw six or seven cars of various brands parked in front of a villa in the center, and five or six young men and women chatting and laughing—clearly the party attendees.

One slender figure with blond hair was smoking and chatting playfully with a brown-haired girl, who rolled her eyes repeatedly at him.

Tsukasa didn’t linger. He parked his car in an empty spot by the villa’s entrance, grabbed his belongings, and called out toward the group.

“Komatsu.”

“Harano!?” Komatsubara had noticed the Mercedes approaching earlier but was still momentarily stunned upon seeing the familiar face stepping out. He didn’t even notice his cigarette burning down.

Only when the cigarette burned his fingers did Komatsubara snap back, quickly stamping out the butt and rushing over. He looked Tsukasa up and down, then lightly punched his chest.

“For real? When did you become a distinguished Mercedes owner?”

Before Tsukasa could reply, Komatsubara glanced subtly to the left at the group watching them, then grabbed Tsukasa’s arm and whispered, “You didn’t rent it, did you?”

“No,” Tsukasa smiled.

“Don’t act big. Renting one costs a lot. Everyone here’s smart; no one gets fooled that easily. If it’s rented, we’ll take a tour of Bunkyo Ward tonight.” Komatsubara knew Tsukasa’s background well, especially his modest salary at the ward office. He couldn’t understand how Tsukasa had suddenly afforded a car within two or three months, especially since it was clearly not second-hand. Naturally, this sparked other guesses.

“It’s mine. So what? Just because you, a jerk, had one from birth, doesn’t mean I can’t get one through hard work,” Tsukasa joked.

Komatsubara’s expression turned serious. “What do you mean ‘had one from birth’? I also came into this world over six thousand days ago, and only after working my butt off, relying on my dad, did I get mine, alright?”

---

Tsukasa Harano fell silent.

There were naturally many wealthy people in Tokyo.

But compared to the steady influx of young people from all over Japan, very few were truly wealthy.

Few bought cars.

Not because they couldn’t afford them, but because city congestion was evident. Owning a car required significant liquid capital, plus ongoing maintenance, fuel costs, and parking fees, which were no small burden.

Trains were convenient and cheap, making car ownership less cost-effective. Only those with money or genuine work and family needs bought cars.

So Tsukasa’s purchase stood out.

Especially since it was a Mercedes.

Among average salaried employees who lived paycheck to paycheck and the unemployed with little savings, those who bought and could afford cars were either wealthy or had work-related necessities.

Obviously, work needs didn’t call for an AMG.

The sleek car body exuded elegance. The silver three-pointed star grille shimmered under the sun, catching the eyes of several young women nearby with heavier makeup. Though not a full luxury car, it was impressive enough.

“You’re... Harano-kun?”

As Tsukasa and Komatsubara chatted, a gentle female voice suddenly came from beside them. Both men turned to look.

Tsukasa sized her up.

The young woman standing nearby had delicate features and tasteful light makeup. Her glossy lips resembled a glistening jelly petal. Wearing a khaki jacket on top, her smooth legs were clad in sheer white stockings, radiating youthful vitality.

Her long eyelashes and flawless skin spoke of good health. The white stockings hugged her legs tightly, leaving a faint mark on her plump, fair thighs.

But Tsukasa didn’t recognize her.

He racked his memory but came up blank and asked, “Who are you?”

“Yumemi Kawachi. What, Harano-kun, don’t you remember me?” The young woman, brimming with youthful charm, tucked her bangs behind her ear and blinked with a smile.

“Kawachi...” Tsukasa murmured the surname.

Still no impression.

Before he could think further, he noticed her subtle gaze scanning him.

More precisely, Yumemi Kawachi’s eyes repeatedly darted to the car parked just behind his left side, then back to him, casually surveying him from head to toe, as if studying something carefully.

After a brief silence, the faint red glow of the Malice List screen unfolded.

Tsukasa couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

So it was true.

If you have the grain,

the chickens will come to you.