“You, you aren’t even going to take a look?”
Eri Kisaki looked at him in disbelief.
That was a lawsuit against Aegis, a multinational security firm with deep connections; once issued, it would mean tearing down the facade.
Wasn’t he afraid that the special-class bodyguard behind him would turn hostile on the spot?
Shinji shrugged and took a sip of the hot milk in front of him.
“Attorney Kisaki, I hired you because you are the queen with a 100% win rate.
If I still have to scrutinize every word on legal matters myself, wouldn’t the consulting fee I paid you be wasted?”
He put down the cup, his eyes turning playful as his gaze shifted between Eri Kisaki and Sirius.
“Besides, I think you’re right.”
Shinji pointed at Sirius and said right in front of her, “I also think they charge too much.
Since Attorney Kisaki is willing to help me bargain, I couldn’t be happier.”
Sirius’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
She lowered her head, looking at her boss’s rogue-like expression.
Burning bridges?
Casting aside a loyal subordinate?
No, this felt more like…
a prank.
She sighed inwardly.
As an employee of Aegis, she was well aware that the company’s bills did indeed have an inflated component; it was standard practice when dealing with fat lambs.
But she hadn’t expected that this boy, who seemed to rely on her for protection, would dare to so bluntly hand the knife to a lawyer.
“As for whether this will offend Aegis…”
Shinji turned his head, looked at Sirius, and flashed a brilliant smile, “Sirius, would you have a killer come assassinate me tonight just because your boss complained about the company’s high fees?”
Sirius pushed up her glasses and resumed her professional, indifferent tone:
“No.
As long as you pay my salary on time and do not breach the contract during the term, Aegis will strictly fulfill its security obligations.
As for commercial disputes, that is a matter for the Legal and Business Departments; it has nothing to do with me.”
“See.”
Shinji spread his hands and said to Eri Kisaki, “She is a professional.
I am also a professional—a professional hands-off boss.”
Eri Kisaki watched the master and servant playing along with each other, and the doubts in her heart not only failed to dissipate but deepened instead.
This boy, seemingly absurd and casual, had actually managed to control both parties in that instant.
He had expressed absolute trust in Eri Kisaki through his signature, defused the awkwardness with Sirius through a joke, and simultaneously clarified their respective boundaries.
He was no fool.
On the contrary, he might be clearer about what he was doing than anyone else.
“I understand.”
Eri Kisaki put away the signed document, the contempt in her eyes completely vanishing, “Since Mr.
Matou trusts me so much, I will certainly give it my all.
I will personally follow up on the refund negotiations with Aegis.”
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
Shinji looked out the window; it had already turned completely dark.
Night had fallen over Tokyo, and the streets were bustling with traffic.
“I didn’t realize it was already this late.”
Shinji turned his head, his peach-blossom eyes looking at Eri Kisaki as he extended an invitation:
“Although it’s a bit abrupt to say this on our first meeting, may I have the honor of inviting Attorney Kisaki to dinner?
I would also like to hear your expert opinion on that tax risk.”
Eri Kisaki instinctively wanted to refuse.
As a separated woman living alone, she rarely accepted private dinner invitations from clients, especially male clients.
But looking into Shinji’s eyes—eyes that seemed to hide countless secrets, both clear and turbid—the curiosity in her heart overcame her reserve.
She wanted to know what kind of background this boy—with his frail body, lavish spending, and eccentric behavior—actually had.
“If it is to discuss business.”
Eri Kisaki closed her briefcase, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips—the elegance belonging to a queen, “I think I know of a nice French restaurant nearby; their beef bourguignon is quite authentic.”
“Perfect.”
Shinji said with a smile, “I can only eat things that are stewed until soft right now.”
The dinner location was chosen at L’Osier, a long-established French restaurant in Ginza.
Unlike the business atmosphere of the cafe, the lighting here was dim and ambiguous, with flickering candlelight on every table.
Elegant violin music flowed through the air, and the waiters’ movements were as gentle as stroking silk.
Sirius did not dine at the same table.
She sat at the next table like an invisible person, with her back to them, only a glass of lemonade in front of her, and a wireless headset on her ear, constantly monitoring the surroundings.
“So, does Mr.
Matou intend to stay in Tokyo for a long time?”
Eri Kisaki cut off a small piece of beef, her movements impeccably elegant.
She had shed the tightness of her professional attire; although she was still wearing a suit, she had unbuttoned one button, appearing slightly more relaxed.
“Just call me Shinji.”
Shinji scooped the mashed potatoes in front of him with a spoon, his eyes looking somewhat helpless, “As for whether I’ll stay for a long time, that depends on whether this place welcomes me.
As you can see, I got into some…
unpleasant trouble back home, so I sort of escaped.”
“Escaped?”
Eri Kisaki’s knife and fork paused slightly; in fact, she had heard of the Matou Family, a very mysterious family, and had made the connection the moment she knew Shinji’s name, “That doesn’t sound like running away from home; it sounds more like…
a branch family?”
“I suppose so.”
Shinji did not deny it, nor did he delve into explaining the messy business in the magic world, “You can understand it as me giving up my inheritance rights and taking a severance package.”
Eri Kisaki watched him quietly.
As a lawyer, she had seen too many wealthy family feuds; the dramas of fathers and sons turning against each other and brothers fighting were well-known to her.
But Shinji gave her a different feeling.
He didn’t have that resentment of being abandoned by his family; instead, there was a sense of…
relief?
“If that’s the case, then New World Holdings is the tool you use to prove yourself?”
Eri Kisaki asked tentatively, “Forgive my bluntness, but your operations in the stock market are very aggressive.
Whether it’s NVIDIA or Tencent, they are extremely high-risk assets.”
“Prove myself?”
Shinji chuckled, shook his head, and picked up his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth, “No, Attorney Kisaki.
I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.
I’m just solving an obvious math problem.”
He picked up the wine glass, though it was filled with milk because Sirius forbade him from drinking alcohol, and besides, he was still a minor; he gently swirled it, looking at the candlelight through the white liquid.
“This world is undergoing tremendous changes.
The internet, mobile communications, artificial intelligence…
these things are rushing in like a flood.
Most people only see the spray, but I see the direction of the tide.”
Shinji’s body leaned forward slightly, the candlelight reflecting on his face, making him look a bit more bewitchingly charming.
“The reason I bought them isn’t because I want to gamble, but because I know they will win.
Just like how I know the sun will rise tomorrow.”
The certainty in that tone made Eri Kisaki feel a palpitation.
That was a look that only a madman or a prophet would have.
“Foreseeing the future?”
Eri Kisaki joked, trying to alleviate this inexplicable sense of oppression, “If you really can foresee the future, can you tell me when my—my lawsuit will be won?”
She had originally wanted to ask when she and that bearded uncle would reconcile, but the words changed to professional habit when they reached her lips.
Shinji was stunned for a moment, then laughed.
“Which lawsuit?
If it’s the one against Aegis, as long as you take action, victory is certain.”
He paused, his eyes becoming a bit softer, “As for the others, Attorney Kisaki, sometimes, victory or defeat is not in the courtroom.
Regardless of winning or losing, as long as you follow your own heart, you haven’t lost.”
These words had a hidden meaning.
Eri Kisaki looked at him blankly, her red wine glass suspended in mid-air.
She thought of her husband, Kogoro Mouri, who was always drinking, lecherous, and seemed useless.
Although they always argued, but…
“You brat, why do you talk like an old man?”
Eri Kisaki took a sip of wine to cover her embarrassment, her cheeks flushing slightly, “You’re only of high school age.”
“When you’ve experienced a lot, you naturally grow old.”