The street lamps on both sides illuminated this deserted area.

A large lock had been added to the back gate of the park, sealing the exit.

Sakura Ayame was on the verge of tears, utterly dismayed. She had graduated from high school three years ago, yet she wore her slightly ill-fitting high school uniform that night.

The evening breeze wasn't cool; when it blew over her skin, a chill ran up her body from bottom to top, making her heart grow cold.

Looking at the deserted street outside the gate and the residential buildings enclosed by walls, even their lights were out.

Why does everyone go to bed so early? Sakura Ayame inwardly screamed. She turned to run in another direction, but suddenly her right calf cramped, sending a sharp pain shooting through her leg.

She had never been good at sports. A sudden sprint, a pause in the wind, and then another attempt to run—it was a surefire recipe for a cramp.

"AH!" Sakura Ayame screamed in agony, even contemplating the thought of simply dying.

Why did a calf cramp hurt so much?

Her mind went blank from the pain.

When Sakura Ayame recovered from the crippling cramp, she found three new shadows on the ground. Her Apple phone, which she had worked hard to afford, was now in someone else's hands, and the live stream had obviously been shut off.

Sakura Ayame suppressed her fear and spoke ingratiatingly, "Big Brother, please don't hit me. I'm afraid of pain; I didn't see anything. You can take my photo, note down my name and address, and use that to threaten me to keep quiet about all this."

Sakura Ayame offered what she thought was a reasonable solution, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please, don't use violence on me. I'll be good, Big Brother~"

The three men in suits exchanged glances, their expressions somewhat troubled, though their eyes were hidden by sunglasses. Their task was to take the homeless man away and hand him over to their superiors. A normal resident like her going missing would be troublesome. It would be even more problematic if her family filed a police report. Seeing as she had just been live-streaming on some app, it would be difficult for them to clean up the mess if things blew up. But letting this woman go just like that felt a bit unsafe.

Looking at Sakura Ayame's pitiful face, one of them was tempted and suggested, "Why don't we film a video with her?"

"Are you stupid?" another, older man scoffed. He squatted down and directly lifted Sakura Ayame's short skirt. "Look, is this a respectable woman? You expect a video to silence *her*? You're far too naive."

Sakura Ayame immediately adopted a serious expression. "Big Brother, I'm an anonymous blogger, and I'm also a college student. I'm only doing this to save up for tuition; I don't plan on doing this long-term."

Although, when it comes to money, dignity is like toilet paper—discard it whenever you want, Sakura Ayame thought. But at that moment, she still had to firmly defend her dignity. Only by doing so could she persuade the three men to let her go.

"I don't know the homeless man, and I couldn't care less about what happens to him."

"That seems to make sense," one of them muttered.

"You're still wet behind the ears and can't be trusted with anything important," Yoshiyuki Sugimoto said dismissively. "A bitch like this, who'd do anything for money, isn't trustworthy at all. If word of this gets out, we'll just take her with us. Those people watching online probably don't have the guts to call the police."

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto's words made his two juniors nod in agreement. There was no strict division of duties among them, but in Japanese corporate culture, the status of a senior itself represented a form of power.

"Let's follow our senior's advice."

Sakura Ayame immediately shouted, "No, please don't!"

She didn't know what fate awaited her if she were taken, but she was sure it wouldn't be anything good. There were always conspiracy theories online saying that homeless people's organs were trafficked or that they were taken to be lab rats for some pharmaceutical company. In any case, it wouldn't be anything good.

"Heh, even if you scream your lungs out, no one will come to save you, you bitch!" A trace of anger flashed across Yoshiyuki Sugimoto's face as he delivered a hard slap to Sakura Ayame's cheek, berating her, "Your parents worked hard to send you to college, but instead of studying diligently, you chose this line of work! You deserve to run into us!"

As he spoke, his actions were rough. He grabbed Sakura Ayame's hair and began dragging her back in the direction they had come from.

"SOB... SOB..." Sakura Ayame cried, tears streaming down her face from the pain. She had never experienced such torment before.

"Don't take me away, I beg you! You can do whatever you want to me, just please let me go!"

"It's too late to be scared now! It's your own fault for choosing this line of work and not listening to advice!"

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto became increasingly angry, not just because their actions had been witnessed. More so, Sakura Ayame's behavior triggered some unpleasant memories.

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto thought of his own daughter. He had done many unconscionable things for the Sumitomo Group, using the ill-gotten money to send his daughter abroad to study. His goal was for his daughter to have a successful future, not to end up like him, selling her life for others. Yet, that girl had gotten involved with transgender issues overseas. Then she got hooked on drugs she shouldn't have touched and ended up as a prostitute on the streets.

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto was furious. He hadn't worked hard to send his daughter abroad to study just for her to become a prostitute in another country. When he announced he was disowning her, that girl had even sent back mocking videos. Yoshiyuki Sugimoto was so enraged he practically spat blood, and he grew to hate those industries. He would rather take a long detour than walk down a street with brothels. The moment he set foot on one, it would remind him of his daughter's activities with some old man in the United States.

His mood was heavy, his daughter's short videos replaying in his mind over and over, and his actions became even rougher.

One of the juniors lifted her feet, the other her waist. Ignoring Sakura Ayame's screams, they carried her straight toward the van.

...

The van was parked in the plaza of Kamo River Park.

The van's side door was open, revealing a drugged homeless man inside. The driver's door was also ajar.

A man lay on the ground.

"Sato?"

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto's face showed a trace of surprise. His eyes swept over the small fountain pool and the empty benches, but there was no sign of anyone.

He became irritable. "Has someone ignored the warning and sneaked in again? Really, despite the maintenance warning signs all around, why does no one listen and insist on sneaking in?"

He released his right hand, and the other two men also let go, dropping Sakura Ayame heavily to the ground.

She dared not cry out anymore. She just curled up, whimpering softly, her heart aching for the warm blankets of her rented room and for the enthusiastic netizens who would comment "goddess" just for a few risqué pictures. Having always been pampered, when had she ever suffered like this?

Sakura Ayame sniffled. If I can get through this unscathed, I swear I'll turn over a new leaf and never return to this dangerous line of work, she vowed to herself.

Seeing that no one could be found quickly, Yoshiyuki Sugimoto said with resignation, "Let's leave quickly. No more delays."

"You won't be leaving."

An enchanting voice sounded from behind them.

All three men's eyes widened. They turned around and saw a blond man of European or American descent standing behind them, appearing as if from nowhere.

His body was extremely muscular. His skin was very pale, unlike the tanned, brawny types from the gym.

"Who are you?"

"Dio," Aozawa replied leisurely.

He had been strolling through the ancient city of Kyoto when he noticed the disturbance here and decided to deal with them while he was at it. He hadn't planned for this tonight. However, like everyone else, he felt pleasure at the sight of a beautiful scene. But this pleasure turned into anger when he saw people acting immorally, littering, urinating, and defecating indiscriminately. It wasn't just him; anyone would lose their pleasant mood in such a situation. But he was stronger than the average person. Towards those who acted immorally, he directly applied the standards of internet justice—death penalty, minimum.

...

"Brother, save me!"

Sakura Ayame didn't care how her savior had appeared. She quickly scrambled forward on all fours, ignoring the throbbing pain in her right calf.

She hugged Aozawa's thigh, crying out, "Sob... they're all lunatics!"

SLAP!

Aozawa smacked Sakura Ayame so hard she was stunned, forgetting even to cry, just staring at him blankly.

"Don't get overly familiar. Just stand aside and watch."

"Yes," Sakura Ayame meekly responded, a strange emotion welling up inside her.

For some reason, being hit by the men in suits invoked fear and apprehension. But when Dio struck her, Sakura Ayame surprisingly found no fear in her heart, only a submissive urge to comply. It seemed normal to be hit by this man. Even she didn't understand why. Maybe it's because he's handsome, she thought, sneaking a glance at his muscular thigh, her face flushing slightly.

"I didn't expect someone would still try to play hero these days. Fine, tie this guy up too," Yoshiyuki Sugimoto growled.

Looking at the European/American face, he was reminded of the white men in his daughter's videos, and his rage flared.

All foreigners deserve to die!

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto pulled out the stun gun issued by the Sumitomo Group. The other two also drew their stun guns, aiming at Aozawa, afraid that the muscular man couldn't be taken down at once.

Seeing the stun guns in their hands, Sakura Ayame's face turned pale. Her instincts urged her to keep clinging to Aozawa's thigh, but remembering his words, she managed to restrain the impulse.

Dio, you have to win! she prayed silently. With those muscular arms, a stun gun might not take him down instantly. Maybe he can even win.

Of course, that was just a woman's naive thought.

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto didn't believe Dio stood a chance of winning. The stun gun in his hand was specially developed by the Sumitomo Group. Pulling the trigger would send two metal darts shooting out, releasing a current of over fifty thousand volts at a pulse rate of twenty-three times per second. It had the power to instantly paralyze a target. This was not a weapon that could be overcome by sheer muscle.

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto pulled the trigger.

Two metal darts instantly hit Aozawa's body. Electricity crackled with a ZZZT.

Yoshiyuki Sugimoto was dumbfounded. What's going on? He wasn't brought down instantly? That's impossible! His body didn't even twitch... Is he made of rubber?