Back to the Present
Sigh...
"Now, what do I do?"
After replaying these events in his mind, Ken felt calmer. He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a phone with a shiny screen, marked with the logo of a bitten apple—a brand as popular as it is ridiculously expensive.
He quickly tapped the screen before gazing down at the ground, looking utterly indifferent.
"Hmm... 10 million yen? What am I supposed to do with that?"
He gritted his teeth, his expression darkening.
I can't believe Mom did this to me.
10 million... A sum that would be a fortune to anyone else. But to him, it was an insult. A pitiful amount compared to what he was used to.
With 10 million, what kind of life does she expect me to live?
…
No, it was worse.
I see… Maybe, in addition to disowning me, she wants me to die. That way, she can erase any trace of my existence from this damn family.
Tsk!
Ken clicked his tongue, a bitter smirk spreading across his lips.
"To hell with it..." He abruptly stood up from the bench, grabbing the handle of his suitcase.
"I'm going to the casino."
After all, he could never survive more than a week with this miserable sum.
And this time, I can feel it. I'm going to win.
He took a deep breath, a hint of an arrogant smile on his face.
She'll regret treating me like garbage.
After walking for a while, Ken stopped in front of a massive building illuminated by glaring neon lights. In golden letters, it read:
"THE CASINO"
Just by the noise filtering through the doors—the laughter, the sound of clinking chips, and the intoxicating music—it was clear he had arrived in familiar territory.
It was his casino. The place where he went to drown his frustrations.
Without hesitation, he walked toward the entrance, dragging his suitcase behind him. The guard stationed at the door saw him and, without asking any questions, stepped aside to let him through.
The inside was just as expected. A temple of excess.
Dozens of tables lined up, offering every kind of game: roulette, blackjack, poker, slot machines, bingo... The atmosphere was like that of a nightclub, despite it being only 10:22 AM.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, a man in a suit hurried toward him, sporting a professional smile.
"Oh! Mr. Ken! You're gracing us with your presence at such an early hour? That's unusual... but always a pleasure, of course."
Chris. A casino employee who knew Ken better than anyone. Normally, he only came here in the late afternoon when he needed to relieve some pressure.
Ken shrugged, clearly not in the mood for small talk.
"The circumstances have changed." He locked eyes with Chris before adding in a confident tone, "Today, I'm not in the mood to lose... so I'm going all in."
Chris's smile widened immediately, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Oh, but of course, Mr. Ken! I have a feeling the games won't last long against you today..." he said, rubbing his hands together like a merchant sensing a good deal.
Ken flashed a smirk before cutting him off sharply.
"Enough with the flattery. Let's go."
"As you wish, sir."
Without wasting another second, they headed for the slot machines.
The clock read 10:22.
Tick-tock, tick-tock...
Time passed relentlessly. The clock now read 8:02 PM.
In the casino, a rather pathetic scene was unfolding.
A man dressed in a black sweatshirt and matching pants was begging a casino manager.
"Chris, please… We've known each other for a while, right? Just a loan… just a little loan of 10,000 yen. I'll win this time, I swear!"
This desperate man was none other than Ken, the same person who had walked in earlier with a confident air.
Chris, the manager, looked at him with a cold, disdainful expression, as if observing an insignificant insect.
"Sorry, but the house doesn't do loans."
As if the courtesy he had shown earlier had never existed, his gaze was now filled with nothing but contempt.
"I... I beg you... The tips! Yes, the extra I gave you! Give them back, after all, it wasn't your salary, was it?"
The whole casino was now watching him. Ken Ishikawa. The man who had lost 9,999,000 yen in a few hours and was now humiliating himself in front of everyone.
Chris leaned in quietly, whispering in his ear.
"You're putting on a show, you poor bastard, banished by his own family."
Ken's eyes widened.
How…?
It hadn't even been a day since he was disowned, and yet, the news had already spread.
Chris continued, a mocking smile on his lips.
"If you get it, get out of here. Before I get unpleasant."
Ken trembled with rage, but before he could speak, Chris added:
"Not only are you worthless scum, but you don't even have a shred of luck... Seriously, are you even human?"
Ken clenched his fists.
This Chris… The same Chris who was licking my boots earlier?
He stood up, a grin on his face, and, under the mocking gazes of the casino patrons, he made his way to the exit.
I see…
He pulled out his phone.
Name: Kenshin Ishikawa
Balance: 1,000 yen
1,000 yen.
He burst into bitter laughter.
I get it now…
GZZZZZZZZZZZ.
His stomach growled.
He was hungry.
"I guess I'll buy one last meal, then end up homeless... and starve to death."
He left the casino with a resigned smile, his eyes now devoid of hope.
Walking aimlessly, he eventually found a bench. He sat down, drained of all energy.
His stomach begged for food, but he no longer had the strength to respond.
He was an empty shell.
That's when an unexpected voice rang out:
"Oh oh… How can a kid like you sit like an old man waiting for death? And I'm the one saying that…"
An old man slowly approached, leaning on a cane.
His deep wrinkles carved into his face so much that he seemed to have difficulty opening his eyes.
He walked painfully to the bench where Ken sat.
Ken lifted a tired gaze toward him.
Who is this?
The old man let out a small laugh.
"Ah… politeness isn't your strong suit, huh?"
Then, with difficulty, he sat next to Ken.
"I'm just joking. I know you're not in the mood to talk, boy. But I have a good deal for you."
In his trembling hands, he held a book.
He slowly extended it to Ken.
At that moment, Ken, drained of all energy, was like a robot. He no longer thought. He simply accepted what was happening, reacting mechanically to others' actions.
So, he nonchalantly took the book.
The cover was completely black, with a title engraved in golden letters:
"GOD OF FREELANCE: MONEY FIRST"
What the hell is this?
The old man continued, a mysterious smile on his lips:
"900 yen… Take this book for 900 yen, and it will change your life, believe me, kid. It's…"
He was about to launch into a well-rehearsed sales pitch when Ken cut him off.
"Do you accept bank transfers?"