The three of them walked down the slope side by side.
Sakiko walked in the front, occasionally turning back like a happy little bird with light steps to check if Ayanokouji, who was a few steps behind, was keeping up.
Tomori walked quietly beside her, maintaining a comfortable distance of about half a meter.
“Speaking of which, which school does Ayanokoji-kun go to?” Sakiko asked curiously as she walked.
“Shuchiin Academy.”
“Shuchiin Academy!” Sakiko gave a sufficient reaction.
As a prestigious young lady, it was naturally impossible for her not to know about this super aristocratic school crowded with the children of political and business elites.
“That’s a very impressive school.”
“More or less.”
“So amazing…
Then your grades must be really good, right?”
“They’re alright.”
Sakiko couldn’t help but chuckle softly: ” ‘They’re alright’?
I bet you’re the type who ranks near the top of the grade.
People who usually say ‘they’re alright’ are usually formidable characters who keep their true abilities hidden.”
“Not first.” Faced with this joking probing, Kiyotaka chose the most direct statement: “Second place.
One point behind first place.”
Sakiko’s eyes brightened a bit more: “Second place?
Only one point behind?
Doesn’t that basically make you first place!
Who is first place?”
“Shinomiya,” Kiyotaka said, “Kaguya.”
“Shinomiya?
That Kaguya from the Shinomiya Family?” Sakiko was slightly surprised, and then wore a reminiscent expression.
“I saw that child at a banquet when I was little.
She was like an exquisite porcelain doll, very cute.
But, although that child is very excellent, it always feels hard to approach her, desuwa…”
She briskly changed the subject and continued talking about music.
Kiyotaka listened quietly, analyzing her innocent statement from earlier in his mind.
Sakiko’s reaction to words like “prestigious family” and “financial clique” was completely different from the students at Shuchiin Academy who, although they didn’t say it out loud, clearly showed strict class divisions through their social circles.
There was no sense of competition in her words, nor any attachment or awe toward power; it was a pureness without any adulteration.
Is it because there are no competitors for inheriting the family business?
Pondering, Ayanokouji followed her through a slope lined with zelkova trees, turning into a quiet and strictly secured path.
“We’re here.”
Seeing Sakiko stop, Kiyotaka also raised his head.
What came into view was a massive mansion resembling a medieval castle, with an extravagantly exaggerated footprint.
The towering walls stretched for dozens of meters, and the tops of the black iron fences were decorated with exquisite metal patterns.
Through the fence, the luxurious courtyard deep inside could be seen.
Large rose gardens were neatly trimmed, and the fountain in the center reflected the shimmering light of broken gold under the setting sun.
The main building was in a pure Western classical style, with grayish-white stone walls, dark blue roofs, and huge floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the evening sky.
According to the assertion made by that man when formulating the plan.
Even with the help of various resources to curry favor, it would take at least two or three years at the fastest, through at least ten core interest exchanges, to possibly earn the qualification to step through the gates of this mansion.
And now, less than a month since he started investigating Sakiko, he had been warmly and proactively invited over by the future heir of this mansion.
“Please come in, Ayanokoji-kun!” Sakiko invited with a smile.
Kiyotaka nodded, following calmly behind her and stepping into this place.
Walking in the courtyard with the huge rose gardens, Kiyotaka’s expression remained calm, and his pace did not show the slightest disorder due to the overwhelming luxury around him.
His gaze swept across the surroundings nonchalantly, calmly observing the environment.
There were seven security personnel on the surface.
Judging from the slight bulges in the clothing under the armpits of three of them and their standing postures, they were carrying live-ammunition weapons.
Although the structure of the entire building adopted a Western style, the circulation design leaned toward a classical defensive type.
Whether as practicality to showcase status or for aesthetics, this place had achieved the ultimate.
Just as they walked into the spacious foyer of the residential area, the three of them ran head-on into a group of people.
The old man’s gray-white hair was combed back meticulously, his suit was exquisitely tailored, and his figure was upright.
His eyes were as sharp as a falcon’s, and just by standing there, he naturally exuded the coercion of someone who had been in a high position for a long time.
Togawa Sadaharu.
That man was specifically circled in red in the files as an important figure who must absolutely not be underestimated.
Accidentally encountering a core target at this stage that he shouldn’t have faced so early, Kiyotaka’s breathing frequency still did not undergo any change, and his heartbeat did not accelerate by even a single beat.
In the White Room, he had experienced countless stress training sessions that pushed physical limits.
Maintaining absolute stability of physiological indicators under any sudden extreme situation was the most basic requirement for a “qualified product.”
Let alone himself, the “ultimate masterpiece.”
Togawa Sadaharu stopped, his gaze falling first on Sakiko, then shifting to Takamatsu Tomori, lingering for less than a second.
Finally, that extremely oppressive gaze landed squarely on Ayanokouji.
This was sizing him up.
Compared to when he observed Takamatsu Tomori just now, there was a bit more cold implication of evaluation, categorization, and judging a person’s “rank” and “value” in that gaze.
Kiyotaka was all too familiar with this kind of gaze.
In the White Room, the researchers in white coats also looked at the children with this kind of gaze.
Kiyotaka did not deliberately avoid it, but he didn’t stubbornly lock eyes with him either.
He lowered his eyelids slightly, precisely maintaining his gaze in a state that “an ordinary junior high student would display when suddenly stared at by a big shot,” slightly confused, somewhat cramped but not overly flustered.
This was not the surface-level acting of an actor, but control precise down to every single facial muscle.
Although the displayed results were close, there was a world of difference in essence.
With the unhurried pace characteristic of someone who had been giving orders for years, Togawa Sadaharu spoke to his most beloved granddaughter:
“Sakiko.
You’re back earlier than usual today.”
“Grandfather.” Sakiko slightly reined in the liveliness she had on the road just now, her voice carrying a trace more of a young lady’s dignity than before, “I brought a friend home to play.
Are you going out, Grandfather?”
“Going out to handle some business.”
Togawa Sadaharu’s tone betrayed neither joy nor anger, his gaze turning once more to Kiyotaka, “This is the first time I’ve seen you bring a man home.
It’s earlier than I expected.”
“A boyfriend?”