Afterword
Adolescent Adam 8: Prologue – Where the Kurosaki Family Lives
The man’s name was Shibaki.
He was not all that smart a man, but at the age of 40, he had begun to dabble in philosophy. What did people think about? Why was he here? He was engrossed in those mildly tricky questions he had never considered while younger.
After dyeing his hair in middle school to look like a certain entertainer, he had quickly fallen away from the straight and narrow. It had started with no more than smoking cigarettes, but the classes in high school were much too tiresome for him and he dropped out after a year and a half. From there, he had started a minor gang where he earned enough to live off of through phone scams and cheating at pachinko by modifying the machines.
He had had seven friends working with him at the time, but not one of them was still with him. Two had apparently taken a high school graduation equivalency exam and became insignificant office workers, but three had overdosed on drugs and damaged their heart or brain and the final two had been out of touch for a decade after some rumors that they had taken out life insurance policies.
Shibaki had lived comfortably to the age of 40, but only because he had been lucky.
He had always been fairly attractive and he had a knack for picking up on the subtle moods of a partner, so he was popular with women. He was confident in his skills in bed and he was confident he could live for quite a while just by sponging off of a lonely woman or an unfulfilled wealthy married woman.
His fate had changed when he met a certain woman at the age of 25. She had lived a wild life of moving from one man to another, but they had hit it off oddly well and they had naturally started living together. It had not been official, but they had effectively been married and even had a kid. So when she had disappeared 5 years later, there had been no avoiding being saddled with her debts.
He had changed his lifestyle to repay them, but he had not signed a life insurance policy like his friends. That may have been the one wise decision he ever made. He had instead utilized his talents in the workplace and sold his body to unfulfilled wealthy married women. Thinking back, that too may have been a wise decision.
One of those had been the wife of a certain family of politicians.
In exchange for a deposit large enough to repay his debts, she had told him to use his talents in the country’s largest human trafficking organization.
His life was just one lucky break after another.
“Hey, Shibaki-san. Good morning.”
“Morning.”
A few members of a minor gang were clearly uncomfortable in their black suits as they bowed. It was like looking at himself 20-odd years before.
The familiar sight felt somehow hollow to him, but he still asked for a report while jerking his chin toward a giant home built prominently in this mountainous region.
There was also a terribly ugly concrete building in an overgrown yard.
They were in south Fukui Prefecture, deep in the mountains on the border between Kyoto and Shiga.
This was the Kurosaki Villa.
The land belonged to Kurosaki, an old family dating back to the Muromachi period. They had 18 villas around the country, they had more than 70 around the world, and they used this one as their western base after moving their main residence to Kantou in the Edo period.
A comfortable single-floor inn was built on the bank of a small lake in the mountains and it even had a golf course and pool. The large hot spring facility may have been better described as a spa. There was no actual spring there, but hot water was pumped over from a nearby Tanba hot spring they had bought up and the bath was large enough to hold more than 100 people. The size and luxury made it seem like the ultimate leisure facility.
But it was actually a secret brothel.
It was a leisure facility belonging to the Kurosaki Family, the country’s largest human trafficking group. It contained everything the rumors suggested.
The golf course, pool, and hot spring were no more than diversions for visitors who wished for a change of pace. Lately, people’s phones were enough to kill some time, so the golf course had not been seeing much use.
The guests here were only interested in one thing.
“Shibaki-san, we finished ‘training’ the 8 members of the Veronica idol group. Although 2 were still virgins, so we left them untouched.”
It was a brothel for only those wealthy enough to easily spend millions.
Shibaki had worked here for 8 years now. He had made a name for himself as a “trainer” and he was somewhat known even in the political world.
“Good work. Then leave those 2 be and have the other 6 make their show debut tonight. Sell them for 10 million, give the girls 100 thousand for the show, and give them another million if someone buys them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once he had given them their instructions, Shibaki walked toward the concrete building.
“Oh, Shibaki-kun. …Stop here.”
On the way, he came across a group of men on a golf cart. A small man in a hakama bearing a family crest spoke to him from the backmost seat.
“Welcome, Ookura-sama. How long will you be staying this time?”
Shibaki had made a name for himself, but only as a trainer – an employee. He made sure to bow his head and greet the guests.
When the Diet was not busy, they would have a lot of politicians and he had to be a lot more courteous with them than with the nouveau riche types.
“Hah hah hah. For about 5 days with my friends here. You need get some exercise to do your job right, after all.”
The cheerful man went on his way.
Ookura was a politician who served as the ruling party’s Deputy Prime Minister and he had long controlled the primary general contractor in his local region. Whenever the Diet’s budget included funding for repairing aging roads, almost 10% of it filtered right into his pockets. And he spent around half of that having fun here, so he was a lucrative customer.
“…”
Shibaki grew oddly philosophical at times like this.
He did not drink, smoke, or do drugs. For a trainer, alcohol and drugs were poisons that dulled the mind and a lot of women were turned off by the smell of cigarette smoke. He had removed all his excess hair so his nudity did not disgust them and he used a razor every day to remain freshly shaved. He looked after his health for his job and he made sure to get 7 hours of sleep every night. He had a good complexion and decently handsome features, so he left a good initial impression with both men and women. He got along well with the politicians he often interacted with.
He had only strayed further and further from the straight and narrow, but he looked after his appearance and health more than the friends who had taken their high school graduation equivalency exams and become office workers. In fact, he did so even when compared to the normal classmates who had taken the honest route of hard work ever since middle school. Life could be strange like that.
…Of course, the people he maintained himself for and bowed down to were all complete garbage who happily spent embezzled public money on human trafficking.
Life could be ironic and things just worked out the way they worked out. He wondered if he could have come up with something more insightful if he had read a few philosophy books when he was younger.
What could he even say if he met that woman again?
The woman who had changed his life when he met her at 25.
He entered the concrete building.
It was the one and only mossy and ugly building on a property with a refined Japanese-style home and garden. The exterior was horribly gloomy, and…
“Nooooo! Stop, stoooooop!”
A piercing scream reached his ears as soon as he stepped inside.
It might be ugly, but the concrete ensured these indecent cries did not escape. The man showed no sign of concern as he got some coffee from the server at the front desk and continued further in.
The back wall was made of glass that gave a view of smaller rooms with a single girl in each one. They were all nude and half had passed out from exhaustion. The other half were engaged in a variety of lewd acts: being gangbanged by several men, riding a massive dildo, being forced to masturbate while tied up, being tormented with whips and candles, etc.