Chapter 872

A group of people walked out of the station, several black Toyota Alphas parked at the entrance, engines already running, exhaust pipes emitting white vapor that quickly dissipated in the cold wind.

A young staff member ran over to open the car door for Uesugi Muneyuki, movements efficient, clearly trained.

"Please."

"Thank you."

Uesugi Muneyuki bent down to sit in the car, and at the moment the car door closed, the wind and snow outside and the station's noise were all cut off.

The car's heating was ample, seats heated, a layer of carpet laid on the leather seats, a bottle of mineral water and a small box of exquisite snacks placed on the armrest. "Wow! Snacks!" Asuka picked up the snack box and glanced at it, the packaging printed with "Aomori specialty; Tsugaru no Tsuki."

Tsugaru.

Again, Tsugaru.

Uesugi Muneyuki gestured for Asuka to put down the snack box, leaned back in the chair, and watched the slowly receding Aomori Station outside the window.

Several high school students in uniforms walked out of the station with backpacks, necks shrunk, exhaling white vapor, chatting and laughing as they headed toward the parking lot. No one knew whether they would stay in Aomori or go to Tokyo.

Go, you can go, actually staying in the countryside is the dead end, are you a Brahmin?

If you lack a stable local industry, the determination to take the civil service exam for a stable life without starving, or haven't figured out your future path, Uesugi Muneyuki always advises moving to Tokyo.

But once these people leave, they never come back.

Not coming back is fine.

What would they come back to do?

Come back to inherit Grandpa's grocery store, squeezed by the Tsugaru family's supermarket and about to close? Or come back to grow those few mu of apples pressured in price by the Nanbu Clan Clan agricultural cooperative?

The car drove out of the station, merging into traffic. Snow still fell, wipers moved rhythmically, everything outside the window was gray-white: gray-white sky, gray-white ground, gray-white buildings, gray-white bridges.

Uesugi Muneyuki closed his eyes, the cabin very quiet, only the sound of warm wind blowing and a distant, faint broadcast from somewhere: "Japanese people are really stubborn, stubborn to the point that many grocery stores in Tohoku still listen to the radio all day."

Nostalgia is a luxury for city people.

But don't worry, by the second or third generation, nostalgia will cease to exist!

I've long been a Tokyo resident! Uesugi Muneyuki thought with a smile.

I am already a Tokyo resident! Sakura gazed excitedly out the window.

I have always been a Tokyo resident! Mai Xuejie smiled, placing her Chanel bag on her calf.

Wherever Mr. Uesugi goes, I go! Uesugi people, Uesugi spirit, Uesugi are the supreme among people, I am already Uesugi Asuka! Asuka leaned against the window, chattering away, sharing her observations with Uesugi Muneyuki, just then passing an apple orchard outside.

A few unpicked apples still hung on the trees, red, like frozen blood beads in the snow.

Nobumoto Tsugaru sat in the front car.

"Uesugi Muneyuki has arrived."

"That one from the Yonezawa Uesugi family."

"Yes, yes, yes, that's the 'Hand of God' one."

"Hmm, he's very easygoing, younger than on TV."

"We must come tonight, a rare opportunity."

The car stopped at the entrance of a hot spring inn, Uesugi Muneyuki got out, looked up at the inn's sign: Asuka Hot Springs-Tsugaru Pavilion. "Please place your luggage and then take a seat, dinner is already ready, Mr. Uesugi, and Miss Asuka, Miss Sakura, and Miss Mai." The female proprietor smiled, saying, recognizing all four.

"Great!"

Sakura and Asuka took a deep breath of the clear, cold air, the taste of snow, the taste of the sea, and a faint sulfur scent.

This is the winter we wanted, this is the winter we wanted, tooth sound!

This is truly the winter of our Japanese Tohoku!

The group followed Nobumoto Tsugaru into the inn, the corridor laid with red carpet, walls hung with Tsugaru-painted lacquerware, corner shelves displaying Nanbu Clan Clan iron tea kettles.

The banquet officially began!

The female proprietor in indigo kimono knelt before Uesugi Muneyuki, both hands holding a lacquer tray, on which four steaming hot towels were stacked, white vapor rising softly, blurring her lowered brows and eyes.

Her movements were smooth as flowing clouds, her posture reverent beyond reproach, like a ritual practiced hundreds of times.

Uesugi Muneyuki took the towel, wiped his face, warm moisture seeping into his pores, the fatigue of the journey seemingly wiped away by half, yet he chuckled, holding the towel, "pfft."

"Mr. Uesugi, is the towel temperature still suitable?" the female proprietor's voice soft as silk.

"Very good, thank you." Uesugi Muneyuki returned the towel to the lacquer tray, the female proprietor slightly bowed and withdrew.

The paper door silently closed behind him.

He turned his head to look at Mai Xuejie wiping her hands with a towel nearby, lowered his voice and said: "Do you know how much that towel just now cost?" Mai Xuejie glanced at him with a giggle: "It's not your money anyway, junior student, you're so anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious!"

"Such a top-tier inn, as soon as you accept the hot towel, the bill automatically adds a fifteen percent service charge. Like tipping in the U. S., you can't refuse even if you want to, they've already added it for you." Uesugi Muneyuki's tone carried the weariness of experience: "When I first stayed here, I didn't know, and at checkout, seeing the bill, I thought it was a mistake. Later I learned, that towel was gold."

It is well known that the U. S. tipping culture may be one of the worst dregs of human culture, even Americans themselves complain endlessly. But actually, Japan has this too, namely the hot towel service at high-end inns, where accepting it defaults to a 10-15% service charge. Many overseas tourists are taken in by this.

"Eh???" Asuka knelt beside him, carefully folding that towel into a neat rectangle, placing it back in the lacquer tray, hearing Uesugi Muneyuki's words, she lifted her head, eyes bright: "Then I'll wipe a few more times, otherwise I'd lose out."

As Asuka spoke, she was about to retrieve the towel already put back, when Mai Xuejie pressed her hand: "Don't listen to him, he's teasing you, this is Tsugaru family hospitality, not our money! Go all out!"

"Mai Xuejie! You're corrupting Ashura Rei!" Uesugi Muneyuki said helplessly.

"Huh, doesn't Asuka deserve the best? Anyway, it's not your money? You bastard, probably going to...?" Mai Xuejie glared at Uesugi Muneyuki, her mouth corner hinting a smile.

"...... Really." Uesugi Muneyuki was amused.

"Eh???" Sakura was shocked, thinking, is this the world of the strong?

"Muneyuki isn't that kind of person!" Asuka pouted, but still obediently pulled her hand back.

The banquet was set in the inn's deepest large hall, when the paper doors were pushed open, Asuka and Miyawaki Sakura simultaneously let out small exclamations. On the long cypress table lay a full kaiseki meal, each dish like an artwork—appetizer's eight sun, the fresh tuna belly and Aomori-produced flatfish in the sashimi, boiled dish of steamed abalone with sea urchin, grilled dish of salt-grilled sea bream, strong dish of domestic beef hot pot, and that bowl of clear matsutake steamed in a clay pot where you could see the pattern at the bottom.

Every ingredient was labeled with its origin: Aomori's, Iwate's, Miyagi's, and Yamagata's—when Uesugi Muneyuki saw the two characters for Yamagata, his heart twitched slightly, that was the land of the Yonezawa Uesugi family.

The chef personally came to explain, saying today's flatfish was just caught this morning from Mutsu, the abalone was directly purchased from fishermen of the Shimokita Peninsula, the beef used was Aomori Prefecture-produced short-horned cattle, low fat but rich flavor.

As he said this, his gaze occasionally swept toward Uesugi Muneyuki, obviously knowing he was of Uesugi descent, intentionally or unintentionally emphasizing "we use only Tohoku ingredients."

"I'm digging in!" Asuka clipped a slice of flatfish sashimi into her mouth, her eyes instantly lit like a lightbulb, her whole body as if struck by something, shoulders hunched, hands covering her face, letting out a muffled, happy hum.

"Delicious?" Mai Xuejie smiled: "If it's delicious, eat more!"

Asuka nodded desperately, unable to speak, and took another piece, this time dipping it lightly in soy sauce and wasabi. After swallowing, she let out a long breath and said, "Being alive is truly wonderful."

Miyawaki Sakura laughed at her from the side, her own mouth full of food, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel storing food.

Uesugi Muneyuki ate the sliced Yonezawa beef hot pot, watching these women eat happily, and suddenly felt that the fifteen percent service charge didn't seem so expensive after all.

After the banquet came the hot springs.

The inn's open-air hot springs were divided into male and female pools, separated by a bamboo fence, but the fence was loosely woven, so through the gaps one could see the lights and shadows on the opposite side. Uesugi Muneyuki soaked alone in the men's pool, his head under a sky full of stars, before him the steaming water surface, and in his ears came the laughter of Asuka and Miyawaki Sakura from the women's pool next door, along with occasional words from Mai Xuejie, her voice blurred by steam, indistinct.

He leaned against the natural stone of the rock wall, closed his eyes, and thought about tomorrow's filming, about Aragaki Yui's unfinished greeting, about Tsugaru Nobumoto's words at the banquet, one by one: "The Uesugi family is the pride of Tōhoku," "Come to Aomori often from now on," "If you need anything, just speak up." Each sentence was good, each sentence flawless, yet he felt something was off.

Probably because he was too thorough—so thorough it didn't seem like something someone meeting for the first time should be.

Not wanting to think so much, tonight was obviously going to be a tough battle!

Uesugi Muneyuki closed his eyes.

Rest and recharge ing!

Accept the challenge!

Protect Dudu! Go all out and play a round!

Dudu protects the whole field, rushing forward for love!

At the same moment, in the livestock hotel at the other end of Aomori Prefecture, the Fuji film crew was checking in.

This hotel lacked the grandeur of a century-old hot spring inn, but made up for it with freshness, spacious rooms, comfortable mattresses, and outside the window lay a vast snow-covered pasture. From the cow sheds in the distance came the faint sound of cowbells, like some ancient, hypnotic music.

Hoshino Gen stood in the hallway waiting for the elevator, holding his room key, his expression that of "finally able to lie down," relaxed.

Aragaki Yui stood beside him, her scarf still not untied, gripping her phone in her hand, replying to her agent's message.

"Fortunately, that Uesugi Muneyuki was taken away by some local thug." Hoshino Gen suddenly said, his tone light with relief. Aragaki Yui looked up at him; privately, she was rather gloomy.

"You haven't heard? His nickname at the Metropolitan Police Department." Hoshino Gen lowered his voice, as if sharing an unspeakable secret: "Pervert of the Metropolitan Police. Women connected to him make up half the Special Mission Division. We came to film this time, I don't want to deal with that kind of person." Aragaki Yui didn't respond, but her brow furrowed slightly; she was thinking of something else.

Shirakawa Mai of the Kantou Shinai Alliance also wasn't staying here; she was picked up by the Tsugaru family, together with Uesugi Muneyuki.

Aragaki Yui stood by the window at the end of the corridor for a while, gazing at the pitch-black pasture outside.

She had originally come over wanting to……

"GAKKI? The elevator's here." Hoshino Gen called her.

She turned and walked over; the elevator doors closed, and the golden floor numbers clicked up one by one.

The hallway fell silent again. A hotel uniformed attendant pushed a cleaning cart past, paused at the elevator entrance, glanced at the tightly shut elevator doors, then turned to a nearby colleague, voice lowered: "Have you heard?"

"What?"

"The haunting. It's been going on since last month—third-floor hallway, 2 or 3 a. m., someone says they hear footsteps. Not the sound of a person walking, but heavy, slow, like dragging a leg."

The colleague's expression was uneasy: "Don't scare me."

"I'm not scaring you. Kobayashi said she heard it herself with her own ears. She walked from the east end of the hallway to the west end, took several minutes, then when she opened the door to look, there was nothing. But the footsteps continued, at the end of the hallway, growing fainter and farther, until they vanished."

"Maybe it's just a guest."

"The guests on the third floor are all alone, and who would walk the hallway at 2 or 3 a. m. in iron shoes, dragging their legs? And Kobayashi said the footsteps—no door opening, no door closing, just walking, walking, from east to west, then gone. If a guest returned to their room, wouldn't there at least be the sound of opening and closing the door?"

The colleague said nothing.

"Don't panic—if it's the magic side, we have the Head of the Kantou Shinai Alliance, Shirakawa Mai-sama, right here! If it's the science side, we have the Legendary Forensic Doctor, the Japanese Police's Ultimate Weapon, Uesugi Muneyuki, right here!"

"To be honest, it's true—if criminals come, we have Uesugi; if ghosts come, we have Shirakawa!"

"Hahahaha~~hahahahahaha~~now we're not afraid!"

"Your fingertip's dancing electricity is my eternal faith in this life!"

The two pushed the cleaning cart quickly down the hallway, light casting long shadows behind them.

The elevator reached the third floor; Hoshino Gen stepped out, Aragaki Yui following behind.

Their rooms were on the same floor, separated by a few doors.

Hoshino Gen stopped at the doorway, turned, and looked at Aragaki Yui: "Good night, GAKKI, see you tomorrow."

"Good night." Aragaki Yui nodded, swiped her room key, opened the door, and went inside.

The room was spacious, the bed large, the curtains double-layered: the outer layer blackout cloth, the inner layer white gauze.

She didn't open the curtains, just took off her coat and hung it on the hanger, sat by the bed for a while, then went to the bathroom to remove makeup and wash her face. On the wash counter lay the hotel's disposable supplies, packaged with a cute cow, probably to match the ranch theme.

She splashed toner on her face twice in the mirror, felt her skin wasn't great today, likely dehydrated from travel, so she applied a face mask, leaned against the headboard, and scrolled her phone. Her agent's message said tomorrow's filming starts at 10 a. m., first indoor dialogue scenes, then outdoor locations in the afternoon. She replied "Received," put the phone on the bedside table, and turned off the light.

The room plunged into darkness; a sliver of weak light seeped through the curtain gap, drawing a fine white line on the wall. Aragaki Yui closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep.

After who knows how long—maybe two hours, maybe three—she woke in a kind of wordless, instinctive alertness, her heart racing, her breath shallow, as if her body had detected some danger signal in sleep and forcibly dragged her from dreams. She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling.

Something has come!

Then she heard it.

In the hallway, something was moving.

A heavy, slow, step-by-step pause, like dragging a leg while walking.

Dong-sha, one dong, one sha, each step separated by several seconds, as if hesitating, as if searching for something.

Aragaki Yui's blood seemed to freeze.

She held her breath, motionless. The footsteps drew nearer, clearer; she could feel the sound moving step by step, slowly, irresistibly toward her in the hallway.

Dong, sha, dong, sha—it stopped at the doorway.

She heard breathing—rough, like something with severe lung disease, each breath accompanied by a wet, sticky sound. That sound lingered outside the door for a long time, as if confirming something, as if waiting for her to open the door, as if trying to pry it open. The doorknob twitched.

The doorknob slowly pressed down a little, then sprang back.

Again pressed down a little, then sprang back.

This thing is trying to open the door!

Aragaki Yui wrapped herself in the blankets, trembling all over, she frantically dialed the previous number, saying someone seemed to be outside the door; the front desk said the monitoring showed nothing, but they'd still send someone to check.

"Boom!" The door sounded again!

That thing is trying hard to open the door!

It's here, it's here! It wants to come in!

This made Aragaki Yui fearfully feel as if nailed to the bed, every muscle convulsing, but she just couldn't move.

She recalled a saying.

The existence of the Inner World attracts each other.

Her GAKKIsmile sometimes attracts, not just things from the Outer World!