Chapter 1008: The Full Story of the Murder Case!

The next morning, Uesugi Muneyuki came alone again to that tower apartment in Kudan South, Chiyoda Ward.

He got the room card from Nakamura Chūkai, saying he wanted to immerse himself in the haunted house experience; the real estate agent thought this guy really had a screw loose, but on the other hand, if it was Uesugi Muneyuki, then everything suddenly made sense, so he generously handed over the room card and spare key.

Japan's tower apartment security procedures are very strict, which is also why many wealthy people choose to live in tower apartments; naturally, detached houses and "villas" would actually be more comfortable to live in, but security cannot be guaranteed; although Japan is among the top ten safest countries in the world, that doesn't mean there are no safety issues.

As for the price, Mitsubishi UFJ Bank originally quoted 390 million yen, writing off three years of property tax and deducting various expenses from the past five years, but upon seeing that Uesugi Muneyuki really intended to buy and planned to pay in full upfront, the bank immediately said that actually 360-370 million yen would suffice for a deal. As for where Uesugi Muneyuki's money comes from…… in fact, Uesugi Muneyuki's salary accumulation over these years, various incomes from Fuji TV, and consulting fees paid to major insurance companies have amounted to one or two hundred million yen.

Then adding the large lump of gold given by Honda Atsuhito, that gold is worth about 120 million yen.

Furthermore, adding the money from Minami and Eirina, Uesugi Muneyuki has enough to pay in full.

If all else fails, there's still Mai Xuejie.

But even so, this level of penthouse in Chiyoda Ward starts at 1 billion yen.

TMD, how can Japanese housing prices be so damn expensive! Uesugi Muneyuki couldn't help cursing, thinking that ordinary workers would need an average of 12-15 years to afford a house, and moreover the mortgage interest is as high as 1%, then stretching over 30 years of mortgage, one would be trapped for life!

No wonder they fell into the lost thirty years.

The sunlight was better than yesterday, and early summer Tokyo, in the gaps of the rainy season, displayed a rare clarity, the sky blue as if washed by water. He swiped the lobby's access control, took the elevator to the 38th floor, and used the spare key Nakamura temporarily gave him yesterday to open that dark anti-theft door. The door hinge this time made no sound.

The living room was just as empty and bright as yesterday.

Early summer sunlight poured down from the floor-to-ceiling window, casting a large expanse of ultramarine light and shadow on the dark floor.

The air had no strange odor, no musty dust smell, only an excessively clean silence; obviously the property had cleaned it many, many times after the incident. Uesugi Muneyuki did not go to the balcony, nor did he go to look at the kitchen; he stood in the center of the living room, completely ignoring the flickering lights and the strange dark shadow behind the kitchen door in the distance, and raised his right hand.

The Qinghui Stone was glowing.

Then he calmly spoke to the boundary of light and shadow formed where the sunlight from the edge of the floor-to-ceiling window slanted in: "Don't hide, I see you. I saw you yesterday too. Come out and chat?"

In the light and shadow at the kitchen doorway, that faint outline reappeared.

From the depths of the kitchen walked out a slightly thin-built man wearing light-colored loungewear, his hair somewhat sparse, his facial features blurred as if a watercolor painting soaked in water.

His cursed grudge did not move; he simply stood there quietly, like an old statue whose edges had been worn smooth by time.

It had been a long time.

So long that this cursed grudge had already lost some of its original memory and ability, with only resentment left behind.

Endless regret.

Uesugi Muneyuki could feel that kind of lifelong regret, the strong emotion of regretting not having started earlier: "You are Sasaki Yoshikazu, right? I am Uesugi Muneyuki, Chief Medical Examiner of the Special Mission Division of the Metropolitan Police Department. Also the person preparing to buy this apartment."

The other party obviously had been dead for a long time; hearing Uesugi Muneyuki's name did not surprise him much, possibly just having heard briefly of him while alive without knowing him; that outline twitched slightly, as if some reaction to being touched at its softest point, and Uesugi Muneyuki felt an extremely faint breath. Perhaps only he in this world could communicate with the cursed grudge, rather than the other side dragging him into the realm of the dead with mad resentment.

No way, the realm of the dead is still my turf!

"Alright…… no need to speak. I can feel what you want to say." Uesugi Muneyuki placed his hands on his knees, very relaxed: "I'm here to listen to you speak. You've stayed here this long, you must have something to say; in the end, what happened?"

Death Flashback!

The afternoon sunlight slowly moved across the floor, stretching the shape of the light spots from diamond to elongated strip.

The beam of the Qinghui Stone slowly swirled within the light pillar, forming a fine, constantly changing spiral.

A flood of memory surged over him, segment after segment of images flowing like a fast-forwarded film reel through the depths of Uesugi Muneyuki's consciousness, carrying sound, temperature, and smell.

He began to browse this person's life.

He was Sasaki Yoshikazu, a senior technical manager at Toshiba, later promoted to the board of directors, holding a small share of Toshiba.

He married only in his late thirties, his wife ten years younger than him, and before marriage she was the front desk of another company in the same office building.

At the time of the incident, he was in his fifties, his wife in her forties, they had a seven-year-old son, a five-year-old daughter, and also that mother with a quirky temperament and mysophobia.

Before his death, Sasaki had already begun planning his retirement life; he had already achieved financial freedom, with fund and investment income, and stock dividends already letting him not need to work.

What a happy and fulfilling family, and moreover quite typical of those who got on board early thanks to the east wind.

Uesugi Muneyuki pinched his chin, thinking this is exactly riding the good wind to send me soaring to the blue clouds.

In the rising phase, everything is beautiful, just as in the Shōwa era everything was right, and in the Heisei era everything was wrong.

As for Hikawa|? Hohoho!

Then the image became somewhat fragmented, beginning to enter darker, deeper, fantastical memories.

That is, the incident occurred.

The murder case! The origin of the second-level haunted house!

Uesugi Muneyuki saw a young face, dark-skinned, with South Asian features in the outline, smiling somewhat shyly but with bright eyes. Indian descent?

Yes, Indian!

Indian person? Servant?

Uesugi Muneyuki furrowed his brow and continued watching.

This Indian person called himself Ravi; when he first came, he was slender in build, and his obviously worn-out clothes were clearly from Japan's secondhand market, washed until they turned white. Why would they hire an Indian-descent servant?

Uesugi Muneyuki watched and watched, and soon understood.

It all originated from Sasaki's mother…… this quirky old woman had been dissatisfied with previous domestic staff, some not diligent enough, some not careful enough, some had odors on them she couldn't tolerate.

She had very strong mysophobia, a quirky and stern yet arrogant personality, constantly saying my son has money.

However, this old woman had money but was unwilling to spend it; after all, she came from that post-war environment of extreme material scarcity, so she was extremely extremely taboo about anyone earning her money.

In this old woman's view, the servants she hired had to have a cost-performance ratio exceeding that of an aircraft carrier, but the price could not exceed that of a bicycle.

When the Indian Ravi was introduced, Sasaki actually didn't have high expectations.

But he turned out unexpectedly diligent.

Mopping, tidying, cooking—everything he did exceeded the expected standard.

More importantly, he faced Sasaki's mother's critical attitude without dodging or flinching, instead patiently complying with her various demands; no matter how criticized or yelled at, he did not resist but only accepted; the old lady rarely showed a satisfied smile.

This is exactly the personality most liked by the old Shōwa generation: old yellow ox, pure laborer, endures hardship, does not complain.

Sasaki was also quite satisfied with this Indian-descent person; he knew his mother's harshness, but he was different, he was born after WWII in the relaxed generation; this cohort is like Nobita Nobi, in the 1970s when Japan's economy had already begun to improve overall and material conditions gradually became abundant, he knew his mother's demands were too unrealistic.

This was no longer an era where one just needed to have enough to eat and feel grateful.

Sasaki began to treat him well, to compensate him.

He secretly gave him red envelopes, shared things with him, and gave him extra pay and holiday allowances on holidays.

He sympathized with Ravi's "pitiful background," as Ravi said he had no relatives in Japan, he was a pure Shudra in India, his visa was in a precarious state, and if not for this job, he might not even be able to keep basic housing and could be deported back to India.

At first, both sides enjoyed a good time together for a while.

However, as time passed, Ravi slowly began to change.

He no longer felt like just a hired hand; he began to regard this apartment as his own home.

When Sasaki was away, he would secretly rearrange the living room furniture, and he would use Sasaki's wife's cookware from the kitchen to cook his own meals. He started placing some personal belongings on the storage shelves in the house, as if marking territory.

Sometimes when Sasaki came home, he would put some loose change in the basket by the door, and when Ravi needed to go out and take the bus, he would habitually take money from there.

Then he began to mention family.

He first suggested bringing over one of his female cousins to live together, saying it was just to look for work and only a temporary stay of a few days.

Sasaki endured it, but the cousin ended up staying for over three months before leaving.

Afterwards, he wanted to bring over two relative couples and their children—a family of three—to stay temporarily.

Sasaki politely refused once, but Ravi acted as if he hadn't heard, and this family would even squat in the lobby doorway or even at the fire escape stairwell, waiting for Sasaki all day, until Sasaki had no choice but to give them money to rent a hotel room.

Finally, Ravi bluntly asked Sasaki for a loan, wanting to borrow thirty million yen to marry a wife.

Sasaki's mother thought her son was rich, so lending a bit was no big deal, because Sasaki himself had assets worth 8 billion yen, and 30 million yen was equivalent to lending 70 cents against 200 dollars.

But Sasaki finally came to his senses.

He refused, dismissed Ravi, and made him move out of the apartment.

Originally, this all ended there.

But two years later, Ravi came back.

He was much more down-and-out than when he left, his clothes were older, his frame thinner, and the spark in his eyes had largely faded.

He arrived at the door, knocked, and said, "I have nowhere else to go," "Just let me stay for two days," "I'll move out once I find work."

Sasaki wasn't home at the time; only his soft-hearted old mother opened the door.

She looked at this once diligent young man who had saved her so much worry, standing at the door, thin to the point of prominent cheekbones, holding an old travel bag in his hand.

"Poor child." The old woman let him in.

However, Ravi did not stay only two days; after two days, he pretended to leave, but in fact he did not go.

He stayed in the house for two weeks.

During the day, when the Sasaki family went out, he would quietly stay in that inconspicuous storage closet in the kitchen corner, avoiding everyone's sight. He ate leftover food from the fridge, drank bottled water, and never made unnecessary noise.

Sasaki's wife occasionally felt something was off in the house—things had moved, the fridge contents were less, and sometimes a shadow would flicker in the gap under the storage closet door—but she didn't pay much attention, because the house was too large.

On a late night two weeks later, Ravi emerged from the storage closet, holding in his hand an electrical cable taken from the toolbox.

"I understand." Uesugi Muneyuki sighed: "He hates you, because he has already come to regard this place as his home, he regards you as his family, but you drove him out, so he hates you. You could have helped him and let his family join you, but you didn't, and instead let him suffer outside for two years. He hid in the house, like a rat in the sewer, a parasite in the walls, while you enjoy life in the sunlight."

……" Sasaki's grudge nodded in deep regret.

"As for your mother…… if I haven't guessed wrong, she should be a person with extremely strong control tendencies, and accustomed to patriarchal authority, but it's obvious that you and your wife clearly don't buy into her ways, and you control the finances, so she can only release her control tendencies toward others, but nobody buys that either—what era is this, you pay how much and get how much done." Uesugi Muneyuki pinched his chin: "And Ravi is the only one willing to be manipulated by her and obey, so she's especially pleased?"

…" Sasaki's grudge remained silent, merely lowering his gaze.

Uesugi Muneyuki said no more, he understood, this is the classic case of gratitude turning to resentment.

So-called great kindness becomes great enmity.

As his father Uesugi Hironori once told him, toward the lower strata of society as a whole, one should have sufficient sympathy, because they are the objects of oppression and exploitation, but when dealing with specific individuals, one must maintain vigilance and distance.

This is another typical example.

Because of a certain theory, it seems the social underclass and proletariat are naturally correct, which cannot be said to be wrong, but in reality, aside from that, Uesugi Muneyuki's father in his past life once told him, when they used to go down to the countryside for research, first, if someone came to tap on the car window, don't get out easily; second, never act alone, farmers with sickles in the fields are as unpredictable as Schrödinger's cat—if you ask them questions, they will be very simple and enthusiastic, but it's also very possible that they will pick up their sickle and strike you if they notice you're alone and realize you have something valuable on you, then bury you and continue harvesting rice with simple enthusiasm.

At first, there were staff members who went down to the countryside and then disappeared, and after that, they were never found again.

Do not leave the expressway and national highway by more than twenty kilometers (laugh)!

Moreover…… Uesugi Muneyuki shook his head helplessly.

Indians are the Japanese government's precious darlings.

Under Japan's severe aging, low birthrate, and lying flat, fresh, tasty, strong, and cheap Indians have always been a major target of active recruitment by the Japanese government; these Indians are truly cheap and hardworking, and they also have children fiercely and pay social security contributions fiercely.

Politicians love Indians to death.

But, what is the cost?

Moreover, this Indian's behavior very much matches Uesugi Muneyuki's stereotype of Indians.

Objectively speaking, Indians are truly hardworking, some nations' people cannot compare, but unfortunately, the Indian moral system is not what people imagine; the reason why nations and ethnic groups cannot eternally coexist peacefully lies precisely here—cultural, ethnic, and moral system divides deepen and intensify this contradiction, gradually forming a chain of stereotypes and hatred.

This matter is also recorded in Attack on Titan.

"You know Romance of the Three Kingdoms, right?" Uesugi Muneyuki asked: "This matter is also recorded in the Yongle Encyclopedia."

Sasaki nodded.

"The Records of the Three Kingdoms once recorded: Yu treated the common soldiers well but was arrogant toward scholars and officials; Fei loved and respected gentlemen but neglected the petty; the First Lord often warned him: 'Your punishments and killings have already exceeded bounds, and you daily flog the able-bodied, while keeping them at your side—this is the way to invite disaster.' Fei still lacked excellence."

Uesugi Muneyuki said to Sasaki: "When he first made demands, you should have refused!"

He stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to that outline, gazing at the green treetops in the direction of the Imperial Palace outside the window. After a good while, he spoke: "I will find him. That Ravi, if he hasn't died, he is still alive somewhere in a corner of Japan. I will track him down." He turned to face that outline, paused for a moment, then continued in a more peaceful tone: "Thank you, Taro." Sasaki bowed deeply, his grudge gradually fading in the afternoon sunlight, the shadows in the kitchen slowly receding.

Uesugi Muneyuki lightly sighed.

For this kind of thing as a housemaid, one should go through a proper agency, discuss problems with the agency, to dismiss someone go to the economic company to arrange, and let the company handle follow-up issues.

Or else you must either go fully feudal, enforcing complete personal dependence, or go fully capitalist, enforcing payment for service. Sasaki's mother wanted both, just like Hirate.

How could there be such a good thing in the world?

But…… the entire Uesugi wants it all!

Uesugi Muneyuki smiled and clenched his fists.

This haunted mansion, I, Uesugi Muneyuki, want it! tooth sound!