Chapter 139: Fine Print
Guessing Marcus’s intentions, Tamayo sank her fingers into his side with a firm pinch.
Marcus turned toward her, a grimace of pain plastered across his face.
Tamayo was radiating a sweet, angelic smile. At the same time, the pressure of her fingers in Marcus’s flesh kept gradually increasing.
"Cough, cough..."
Coughing lightly, Marcus tried to smooth over the awkwardness of having been caught.
"All right, enough with the speeches. Everyone should keep doing what they were doing before. Since it’s still early, anyone who needs to rest, go ahead and rest."
In Yoshiwara, the custom was to rest during the day and be active at night.
"Yes~ boss!"
"Bantou, Yarite, take them on a tour of the Kyogoku House."
Marcus gestured toward Tamayo and the others standing behind him.
"Understood."
"Warabihime Oiran, come with me to my room for a moment."
Hearing him call for her, Daki let a clear disdain show in her eyes.
’Can’t hold it in anymore?’
Narrowing her eyes, she answered, dragging her tone out slightly.
"Yes~"
Marcus’s room—or rather, his office.
It was right on the top floor of the entire three-story building, in the room facing the street.
It offered a view of all of Yoshiwara.
Since the previous owners had lived here, the size of the room was quite large.
An open space of nearly a hundred square meters that had been transformed into a layout with the bedroom in the back and the office up front.
Even though they’d only had the morning, the married couple had organized a thorough cleaning of the entire room.
The handover of the accounts, contracts, and deeds had also been completed here.
Overall, Marcus was fairly satisfied with the place. After all, the presence of a bed guaranteed him a corner where he could collapse and sleep at any moment.
The real challenge of the place was still those low tables. Having to kneel on the floor for every activity was a demanding custom that still caused him quite a bit of discomfort.
Shaking his head, he took off his shoes, walked barefoot to the low table, and sat down cross-legged.
Behind him, Daki followed close on his heels.
When he entered the room, she entered too. When he drew the curtains, she immediately shut the door.
While he sat there cross-legged, Daki didn’t hesitate. And with a smile capable of dumbfounding any living creature, she walked straight toward him.
She moved with a slow, provocative sway of her hips, holding his gaze with overflowing sensuality and a feline grace in every step.
Her goal was obvious: to sit right in the middle of Marcus’s crossed legs.
However...
Thud!
Marcus grabbed a sheet of paper off the table, rolled it up, and smacked the tatami in front of him.
"Where do you think you’re going? Sit right there."
Daki was stunned.
’What’s this supposed to mean?’
Getting her alone, taking her to his room, drawing the curtains—didn’t that mean THAT?
Sit across from him?
Sitting face-to-face is for haggling over prices at the market! For going over contracts! For playing shogi with your grandpa!
When it comes to love, a woman settles into the gentleman’s lap, ruffles his hair with playful fingers, and lets him stammer like a schoolboy. That’s how it’s supposed to go! It’s written in the stars! Every last peasant knows it!
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, expecting to catch him sneaking a furtive look... but Marcus wasn’t looking at her.
Daki’s lips curved up slowly.
’Ahhh... now I get it.’
’The poor thing’s playing hard to get~ How cute. How predictable. Heh, men. All the same.’
She mocked him inwardly, but didn’t let any of it show on the outside.
On the contrary: she let her shoulders drop as if she’d been unfairly scolded, put on a fragile expression, and sat down sideways in a gesture of resignation.
And, of course, "accidentally on purpose," the kimono gave way just enough.
The fabric slipped a couple of centimeters, just enough to expose the curve of her shoulder and the start of her collarbone, that line any man with blood in his veins would follow with his eyes until he lost himself in it.
The cloth parted at the thigh just enough to hint at the length of her leg without fully revealing it: a pale flash that appeared and disappeared with every breath, promising more than it delivered.
Any normal man would already be doing the math.
"Boss~..." she murmured seductively. "Has this humble servant done something to displease y—?"
BAM!
Marcus slapped the table again before she could finish the sentence.
"Sit up straight and behave yourself! That’s ALL I’m asking of you!"
Daki: "..."
’He’s insane!’
’Behave myself? He’s asking me to just sit there nicely?’
’Does he have ANY idea how many men have offered up their houses just to see me reclining like this for half a second? How many clients line up for months, pay fortunes, wait out in the cold like dogs, all for the privilege of kissing the TIP of my foot?’
’And this... this... THIS guy tells me to sit normally?’
’HYPOCRITE!’
’HY-PO-CRITE!’
’Fine. FINE. You want to play this game, let’s play. Let’s see how many minutes you last. Let’s see if you make it to ten. Let’s see if you even make it to FIVE!’
Snorting, she pulled her leg back in, going from a reclining pose to a Japanese-style kneeling position.
Seeing that she’d settled down, Marcus didn’t waste any time and tossed the contract he’d been holding onto the table.
"Sign."
"Sign...? Oh~"
Only then did Daki remember that an Oiran’s contract had to be renewed.
When a brothel changed owners, everyone else’s contracts and deeds were transferred along with the establishment.
But not the Oiran’s.
By the time one reaches the rank of Oiran, the vast majority are already in a state of semi-freedom.
They’re the brothels’ geese that lay the golden eggs. Therefore, even their contracts are signed separately.
After the change in ownership, the contract, naturally, had to be renegotiated.
And that’s for the Oiran who’d been raised in the brothels since they were little.
But for someone like her, who’d joined partway through, the contract was even more lenient.
She’d been so focused on seducing Marcus that she’d forgotten about this.
She looked at the contract and then studied his "strictly professional matter" face, mocking him to herself.
’So that’s what all the theatrics of acting serious were for... He’s afraid of looking too hungry and scaring me off, so first he tricks me into signing the contract, and THEN he brings out the claws. CLAS-SIC.’
’Men. So predictable~’
Still, if she had to sign, she’d sign.
Either way, her goal wasn’t the money, but getting close to him and controlling him.
A slightly stricter contract even made it easier for her to stay by his side playing the "poor victim."
She lowered her lashes, melted her gaze, and answered submissively. "If the boss wants me to sign... this humble servant will sign~"
As she said this, she picked up the brush from the table and got ready to write her name without another thought.
Unexpectedly, Marcus stopped her at that exact moment.
"Read it carefully before you sign."
"No need~ this humble servant trusts that the boss won’t cheat her."
In that instant, Daki was being extremely docile.
Too docile.
So docile... that even Marcus was caught off guard.
In all seriousness: what the hell?
He knew perfectly well what kind of personality Daki had: she was capricious, proud, conceited, and arrogant.
Even if she was pretending to be the sweetest Oiran in the district, never, NEVER would she put on that "yes sir, whatever you say" face for anyone.
This didn’t add up. Not at all. And when something didn’t add up with Daki, there was only one possible explanation:
Something fishy was going on here. And it was the size of a tiger.
If there was a trick, it had to be exposed. And the best way to deal with a time bomb with such a foul temper wasn’t to defuse it patiently with fine tweezers...
It was to light the fuse and watch it blow itself up.
Gripping the handle of the brush in Daki’s hand, he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him with a half smile.
"Are you sure you’re willing to sign no matter what happens?"
Daki lifted her devastatingly beautiful face, blinking obediently.
"I’m willing~ You’re the one I want to follow, not this shop."
As she spoke, she gave him an enraptured, faintly admiring look that could awaken any man’s desire to conquer.
"Actually, from the very first time I saw you, in my heart I knew—"
"That’s enough."
Marcus reached out, cutting off Daki’s love-at-first-sight confession. He pulled the brush from her, grabbed the contract, and with two or three quick strokes modified a couple of clauses.
Then he handed it back to Daki, who was cradling her own face in both hands, imitating the pose of a woman head over heels in love.
"In that case, sign it."
Daki took the brush with a smile and lowered her head to sign.
The tip of the brush descended...
And froze.
She stared at the first modified line of the contract, and her pupils contracted.
"A... bill of sale?"
She kept reading.
"Commission percentage: Zero."
She looked even further down.
"Once this contract takes effect, I voluntarily relinquish all of my rights, belonging body and soul to my master Marcus... as a maid and slave..."
Daki’s head lifted and she looked at him.
Her eyes no longer overflowed with seduction, but instead...
Looked like they wanted to devour him alive.
"What you want...", her voice dropped extremely low, "...is to keep me. For free."
The brush began to tremble in her hand, and the ink dripped, spreading until it became a black stain on the contract.
Marcus leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on the table, and drew closer with a smile.
"Don’t make it sound so nasty."
He reached out and, with insulting gentleness, brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead.
"Didn’t you say it yourself, ’You’re the one I want to follow, not this shop’?"
Daki’s murderous aura could have sliced the air into ribbons.
Yet Marcus kept looking at her with a smile, as if he were completely incapable of feeling it.
"I’m giving you an opportunity right now...The opportunity to give yourself, body and soul, into my arms."
They were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Marcus inhaled the scent of her skin without disguising it in the slightest, and arched an eyebrow.
"What’s wrong? Did you regret it that fast?"
"And here I thought..." His smile widened dangerously. "...you were already half melted by the idea of having me as your master."
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