Chapter 4

[[3rd PoV]]

Outside the grand gates of the villa, a man in his late 30s stood, clutching a stack of documents tightly in his hand. His disheveled brown hair hinted at a restless night, and his suit, though once sharp, now bore the wrinkles of worry.

Summoning his resolve, he drew in a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. After a tense wait, a guard emerged from behind the gate, eyeing the man with a scrutinizing gaze before speaking. "Can I help you with something?"

With a determined expression etched on his face, the salary man met the guard's gaze squarely. "Is this the residence of Congressman Kenta Ishida?"

The guard, appearing wary, responded with a hint of suspicion in his tone. "And what brings you here to see the Congressman? I wasn't informed of any scheduled visitors."

"It's a sudden visit. I need to speak with him directly," the salary man insisted, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

"I'm sorry, sir," the guard reiterated firmly, maintaining his stance. "As much as I empathize with your situation, it's against protocol to accommodate unannounced visitors. An appointment is necessary, regardless of the urgency." His tone remained resolute, emphasizing the non-negotiable nature of the rule.

Undeterred, the salary man pressed on. "Please, this matter is incredibly important. I need you to make a call on my behalf, mentioning it concerns her daughter." His voice carried a sense of desperation.

"I suggest you just go back. I really can't do anything," the guard advised firmly, unwilling to bend the rules.

Before the salary man could open his mouth to retort, a loud horn from a car cut through the tension. *Honk! Honk!* A sleek black Land Cruiser rolled up to the gate.

The rear window slid down, revealing a man with a stern expression. "What's going on? Why is the gate blocked?" he demanded with an authoritative tone.

As the salary man stepped aside to allow passage, he turned to face the man in the car. Unbeknownst to the salary man, the man in the car wore a secretive grin upon seeing who he was.

The guard swung the gate open, gesturing for the car to enter. As it rolled through, it paused momentarily, aligning the open window with the guard's position. The guard leaned in, exchanging a few words with the occupant.

Once the car had departed, the guard straightened up and offered a respectful bow. Then, turning to the salary man, he nodded. "You're clear to enter now."

...

In a luxurious room, a circular table commanded the center, flanked by two luxurious sofas. Adorning the walls were masterpieces by renowned artists, while a glittering glass chandelier adorned the ceiling.

Behind one of the sofas stood two burly men clad in impeccably tailored black suits, one sporting short hair and the other with a mane that cascaded down his back. Both wore sleek glasses and earpieces, exuding an aura of professionalism.

Seated below them was a man exuding confidence, leaning back against the sofa with one leg casually crossed over the other. His arms were folded atop his knee, showing nothing but ease and authority.

"So, who do we have here?" The man inquired, raising his chin slightly to gesture towards the salary man seated on the opposite sofa, prompting him to speak.

The salary man remained composed, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Thank you for granting me this audience," he began respectfully before adopting a more serious tone. "I am the father of the child your daughter injured."

"I understand the situation," the Congressman replied calmly. "However, my daughter's actions were unintentional, merely an unfortunate accident. I believe you've already discussed this matter with my secretary previously, was it not?"

As the Congressman spoke, Mineta's father couldn't suppress a twitch of frustration. While it was true they had previously discussed the matter with the secretary, it had yielded no results beyond being brushed aside regarding the legal proceedings.

The lack of witnesses, news coverage, or even rumors about the incident left him incensed. 'You have the power to silence everyone,' he thought bitterly, 'but you can't even pay the ambulance bill.' However, he kept his emotions carefully hidden behind a composed facade.

"I'll be frank," stated Mineta's father with a firm tone. "I've come here to seek compensation. I understand that the incident was deemed an 'accident' and that your daughter is a minor, but considering she was the cause of my son's complete paralysis, some form of support is warranted."

Congressman Ishida adjusted his posture, lifting his leg and leaning forward, resting his chin on his crossed knuckles as he regarded Mineta's father. "While I granted you entry into my home out of leniency, I urge you not to overextend yourself," he replied with a serious tone.

The congressman reclined once more, waving his left hand dismissively. "Please, spare me. Paralyzed from tetanus that was treated three months ago? Utter nonsense."

As Mineta's father placed the documents onto the table, the two bodyguards behind him began to advance. "Wait! Here, I have the medical diagnosis of my son," he exclaimed urgently.

Halting in their tracks, the guards turned their attention to the congressman, who nodded in approval. One of the guards retrieved the documents and handed them to Ishida for examination.

After reviewing the documents, Ishida summarized their contents with a thoughtful expression. "It appears that the inflammatory response triggered by the tetanus infection causes the growth of the dormant tumors to accelerate," he mused aloud. Setting the papers down, he fixed his gaze on Mineta's father. "I understand your motives for seeking compensation," he began, pausing briefly before continuing, "However... I'm afraid this may not suffice."

Mineta's father, infuriated by Ishida's response, stood up abruptly and raised his voice in protest. "What?!"

Unfazed by the outburst, Ishida maintained his composed demeanor and calmly proposed an alternative. "How about this? I can recommend a reputable doctor for a second opinion. It might offer a clearer diagnosis and potentially lead to more effective and affordable treatment options for your son," he suggested.

Mineta's father, having regained composure, retrieved the documents with a resigned click of his tongue. "Why did I even bother coming here? I should have known he wouldn't even part with a penny," he grumbled under his breath.

But Ishida's next words caused him to freeze in place. "You're employed at XXX company, earning minimum wage, correct?" Ishida's tone was chillingly matter-of-fact. "Good luck continuing your employment there."

Stunned, Mineta's father turned back, his voice trembling as he asked, "W-what did you just say?"

"I'm saying your son is going to die at this rate," Ishida remarked with an icy tone as he massaged his jaw and a sinister grin spreading across his face.

"You...!" Mineta's father began, his anger boiling over, but before he could take a step closer to Ishida, he found himself wrapped in a chain. Startled, he looked to see the long-haired bodyguard extending his hand, who's fingers turned into restraining thick chains.

Ishida stood up and closed the distance to the now incapacitated salary man. Leaning forward, he whispered into the man's ear, his voice dripping with malice, "You know, I don't want to dirty my hands, especially now that the election is coming. But I must admit, sending my youngest daughter to a regular private school just to bolster my image as a parent was a miscalculation. The girl hasn't even learned how to interact with the lower class despite my efforts."

Stepping back, Ishida's grin twisted into a sinister expression. "Fortunately, you've presented an opportunity. I have a proposition for you. What do you say? You could save your son and bolster my public image simultaneously."

…