Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve: Kamikawa Chie

Tokyo, Japan, Arakawa Ward.

Following memories of the original owner’s life recalled at the Metropolitan Police Department, Wang Zun walked home along the street.

He glanced left and right.

The streetlights were old, their glow dim, occasionally flickering as aging wiring caused intermittent outages.

The dim light stretched Wang Zun’s shadow long behind him.

“Truly worthy of the name Arakawa,” Wang Zun muttered, scanning the houses on either side.

Uniformly old Japanese-style homes: small single-story houses and tiny apartment buildings, most no taller than five or six stories.

Judging by their style and degree of decay, even the youngest building was at least ten years old.

The scenery here had nothing to do with Tokyo’s reputation for “prosperity.”

On the contrary, it could be called old-fashioned, traditional, impoverished.

Tokyo, as Japan’s capital and one of the world’s four traditional global metropolises, was naturally prosperous, its night markets dazzling, its luxury intoxicating.

Yet, strictly speaking, Tokyo’s prosperity referred only to its six central wards.

That is, the six central wards of Tokyo:

Chiyoda, Chuo, Minato, Shinjuku, Bunkyo, and Taito.

Beyond these, Tokyo had other wards.

Tokyo was divided into twenty-three wards total.

Due to various factors including development, economic levels varied across them.

The gap was significant.

The disparity was so vast that the per capita income of the wealthiest ward was nearly triple that of the poorest.

In Japan, netizens often posted online about Tokyo’s twenty-three wards, dividing them into “affluent” and “working-class” districts based on extreme wealth inequality.

The Arakawa Ward, where Wang Zun lived, didn’t even qualify as a working-class district.

It belonged to the even worse category: a slum.

Of Tokyo’s twenty-three wards, only three were slums—and Arakawa was one of them.

Recalling what he knew of Tokyo, Wang Zun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Arakawa was poor, yes—but if he had to find some silver lining in this misfortune, it was there.

He could find it.

The only consolation: Arakawa wasn’t the absolute worst—it ranked second-to-last.

He laughed for a moment, then stopped.

He had just recalled more of the original owner’s memories.

Wang Zun’s current situation was dire.

The hardship wasn’t just in daily life—it was economic.

The original owner’s suicide was partly due to financial strain.

At this rate, if he didn’t act soon, Wang Zun would soon be forced to move to Adachi Ward due to economic hardship.

Adachi Ward was Tokyo’s absolute worst-ranked ward.

But Wang Zun couldn’t laugh for another reason too.

His sister.

The original Wang Zun wasn’t from a single-parent household—he had a younger sister.

“Sister…”

Wang Zun stopped walking, looked up at the night sky.

Tonight,

the silver moon hung high, glowing softly, the starlight magnificent.

Gazing upward, countless stars formed a curved river of light, adorning the heavens, beautiful enough to stir the heart—like a girl’s faint smile.

Deep eyes reflected the glittering stars within.

Only when a gentle evening breeze brushed past, lifting the short hair on his head, did Wang Zun lower his gaze.

Kamikawa Chie.

The name of Wang Zun’s sister.

Two years younger than Wang Zun, only fifteen years old—still in the “three-year minimum” age bracket.

Currently, Kamikawa Chie attended Arakawa First Junior High, a third-year middle school student.

In Chinese school terms, that meant ninth grade.

She was about to graduate and enter high school.

And precisely because Kamikawa Chie was about to enter high school did the original Wang Zun commit suicide.

Because entering high school meant tuition fees.

Like China, Japan provided free nine-year compulsory education.

Only at the high school level did students have to pay tuition themselves.

Wang Zun’s family was different from others.

His parents had died early; only he and his sister remained.

As the only male and the eldest in the household, he bore the entire burden.

What financial capacity could a high school student possibly have?

The answer was obvious.

Almost none.

His income came only from temporary odd jobs and the meager savings left by his parents.

To avoid starving before reaching adulthood and securing proper employment, Wang Zun had to practice extreme frugality far beyond his age.

He had to plan exactly how much to spend each day—enough to fill his stomach, but no more.

He had to account for every other expense too.

Almost every day, Wang Zun lived in poverty, scrimping and saving.

It was too hard.

Worse, he couldn’t show his suffering—it would worry his young sister.

He loved his sister deeply.

How deeply? If there was fish to eat, he gave her the meat and kept the head for himself. Any delicacy, any good drink—he gave it to her first.

Without Kamikawa Chie, he would never have held the family together this long.

So he didn’t want her to worry.

But all he could do was this much.

After all, he was a teenager whose parents had died too early, who had never even had time to enjoy life before facing its cruelty.

The weight on his shoulders… was too heavy!

Originally, Wang Zun’s daily life—scrimping, working, managing school and household matters—had already pushed him to his limit.

He could barely breathe under the pressure.

Now, his sister was about to enter high school.

Facing a tuition fee that, to him, was astronomical…

It was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Under unbearable pressure, Wang Zun finally collapsed.

He chose suicide.

Fragments of the original owner’s memories flashed through his mind; Wang Zun sighed.

Was it irresponsible of Wang Zun to commit suicide?

Yes, it was irresponsible.

He abandoned his sister to die.

But in one memory fragment from the original owner’s past…

As he wrote his suicide note, he repeatedly pleaded for someone kind to care for his sister.

His tone was profoundly humble.

By the end, tears flowed uncontrollably,

dripping onto the note, leaving behind faint, watery stains.

Even in death, he could not let go of his sister.

One might say the original Wang Zun made a mistake—he shouldn’t have killed himself, he should have kept fighting.

But that wasn’t entirely true either.

The burden the original Wang Zun carried was too heavy for anyone his age to bear.

Any other high school student—or even an adult—would likely have made the same choice.

“Since I died in my past life and was reborn into your body, as thanks, I’ll take care of your sister for you. That’s how I’ll fulfill your wish.”

Wang Zun murmured, then resumed walking.

In his past life, he had died.

Having been reborn by accident, he wouldn’t waste this second chance.

The first thing he could do now was care for the original owner’s sister.

After all, his personal code was simple: repay kindness, avenge wrongs.

A small, old Japanese-style apartment.

Kamikawa Mitsu stood in front of one of the apartment’s units.

This was the only inheritance left by the original owner’s parents, beyond their meager savings—enough to keep Kamikawa Mitsu and Kamikawa Chie from freezing outdoors.

He pulled a key from his backpack.

He turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

Kamikawa Mitsu exhaled, then stepped forward into the home:

“I’m home.”

……