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407 A Secret Project for Two
🕑 Added 2025-07-26 15:00:14 +0000 UTCKyousuke thought Mitsuha’s father, Miyamizu Toshiki, was already tough to deal with—but Eriri’s father? He made Toshiki look easy.
This moe-loving, daughter-obsessed father fully embodied the diplomatic finesse of his profession.
And no, not the kind that just issues “strong condemnations” and “stern statements,” but a true elite—honed by generations of scheming in a family of supervillains.
As Spencer-san’s eyes landed on his adorable, well-behaved daughter standing quietly behind Hojou, he was instantly reminded of the day she left home.
She had said she was worried about disturbing her parents’ rest and now that memory only stoked his fury further. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Words flew like bullets.
Sharp rebukes, eloquent comebacks, biting sarcasm. A full-on verbal assault.
It was the first time Kyousuke had seen this side of Spencer-san.
Usually, he was the kind of man who curled up on the sofa watching anime, squealing at cute characters like a helpless grub, bawling his eyes out at the slightest bit of drama.
But now? He was a father-in-law in full beast mode.
While Hojou Ichirou played dead, Megumi Kato watched wide-eyed, Kasumigaoka Utaha looked pensive, and Hata Gorou realized his life might be over—Hojou Kyousuke was completely overwhelmed.
Then Eriri stepped in.
She yanked her furious father aside and hissed sharply, “Dad! Did you forget your actual mission today?!”
“Huh? Wasn’t it to give Kyousuke a proper scolding?” Spencer asked, still seething.
“No! I told you to invite Kyousuke’s dad out for dinner!”
“Dinner? But Lily, you haven’t had dinner with us in ages!”
“Ugh! Next week, I promise I’ll eat at home at least four times! But not tonight!”
There was no way Eriri was going to let anything interfere with her alone time with Kyousuke.
Her parents had their own romantic time, didn’t they? So why couldn’t she?
No—Dad should be bonding with Kyousuke’s dad instead.
Mitsuha already got the upper hand yesterday; today she had to take it back.
“You have to get Kyousuke’s dad drunk,” she ordered, clearly not trusting him to follow through.
“But I’ve got work tomorrow…”
“You stay up all night gaming and sleep at the embassy during the day anyway!”
“Don’t call it gaming! And I only drink cola!”
“Yesterday, another girl’s dad already got Kyousuke’s dad drunk,” Eriri said, her tone suddenly gloomy.
‘Wait, what?’
That got Spencer’s attention. Just who were these other girls?
Aside from that childhood friend, who could possibly have closer ties to Hojou Kyousuke than his family?
“Got it! Leave it to me. I’ll even call in the embassy’s military attaché! Hojou Ichirou is getting wasted tonight!”
As a proud, moe-loving father, Spencer couldn’t stand to see his daughter looking so defeated.
His daughter would never fall behind—not on his watch. He didn’t drink?
Fine. He knew plenty who did.
And if the drinking buddy was high-ranking enough, there’d be no issue of disrespect.
“Haha, thank you, Daddy~~!” Eriri beamed, her voice suddenly syrupy sweet.
“Mhm.” Spencer nearly melted.
That one little “Daddy” had him weak at the knees.
His little angel was back!
“Okay, now that’s settled, Kyousuke and I need to get to work. Daddy, please take Uncle Ichirou and go.”
“…”
Spencer froze.
And over on the sofa, where he had been pretending to vanish into the cushions, Hojou Ichirou suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
Doom had arrived.
Meanwhile, Kyousuke had wrapped up negotiations with Kosaka Akane.
While she didn’t agree to be the producer, she did allow Mars to join the production committee.
That meant he’d have full access to Mars’ resources.
As for the others who had offered help—he didn’t turn anyone down.
They all signed letters of intent.
He knew that if he finished the project, there was guaranteed profit.
So why not let his own people reap the benefits? Just like how he hired former members of his “organization” into his company.
A lively crowd had come and gone—laughing, bantering, and ultimately leaving in high spirits.
On their way out, Onizuka and the others even dragged Aki Tomoya along.
When they saw him, every one of them looked guilty—as if they’d failed their duty by letting such filth appear before their “boss” again.
Even Hojou Ichirou was forcibly taken away, despite repeatedly insisting he wasn’t close with Hojou Kyousuke.
Spencer-san just ignored him and shoved him into the car.
“Hojou-san, remember me?”
Kyousuke turned to see a man smiling at him eagerly.
Normally, he’d pretend not to recognize someone from the main family.
But not this time—he needed a favor. So he threw on his best grin.
“Hahaha, of course I remember! Naitou-senpai, right? Just call me Kyousuke. Yamamura and Ono from the teacher’s college have told me your story a million times!”
Huh?
Naitou Akifumi was caught off guard by the sudden warmth.
This… didn’t seem like the same Kyousuke who used to avoid the main family like the plague.
Truth be told, Naitou had long admired that aloof, unstoppable version of Kyousuke.
The way he shrugged off even the most sacred techniques of his school, trained on his own, and reached terrifying heights of skill—it was like something out of legend.
That’s what a true genius should be: untamed, arrogant, unmatched.
He imagined trailing behind Kyousuke as they entered rival dojos, unleashing one devastating match after another, until Kyousuke alone had crushed every opponent.
Then Naitou would dramatically step forward and challenge them: “So? You still think Hokushin Ittō-ryū has no bite?”
Or maybe, once Kyousuke graduated and joined the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, he’d sweep the National Police Kendo Tournament every year.
His fearsome display of Hokushin Ittō-ryū would earn him the admiration of the higher-ups—and elevate the status of every one of his peers.
It was kind of embarrassing, but until last year, no one from the Tokyo police had won the championship for six years straight.
Their bosses were furious.
They couldn’t even hold their heads up when sent out on assignment.
Thank god Hatake finally won last year.
Without that victory, things would’ve gotten ugly.
Hatake was even promoted twice in one year.
Honestly, if Naitou were in his shoes, he’d probably just retire undefeated and take the legacy to the grave.
But duty was duty.
For the honor of the force, they all had to keep fighting.
If not, they'd end up exiled to some rural backwater, riding bicycles and playing house with kids.
At just sixteen years old, Hojou Kyousuke was already this strong—Naitou Akifumi could hardly contain the excitement bubbling in his brain just thinking about how powerful he’d become once he entered society.
With talent like that on their side, their faction was bound to rise to the top.
The Hokushin Ittou-ryuu would finally reclaim its former glory.
He spaced out for a couple of seconds, lost in that sweet daydream, before snapping back to reality with renewed enthusiasm in his voice.
“Haha, I just happened to be born a few years earlier than you, Hojou-san. Once you officially join the main house, you’ll probably get the Grand Scroll license right away!
At that point, even I’ll have to start calling you senpai. The dojo’s crescent moon crest is waiting for you to inherit it, after all.”
Looking at the man in front of him—who was starting to remind him a bit too much of Kisaki Tetta—Hojou Kyousuke let out a quiet sigh.
‘This is exactly why I’ve avoided the main house dojo all this time.’
He was well aware his talent couldn't be hidden, no matter how hard he tried.
No matter where he went, he’d end up being the center of attention.
That was exhausting. All he really wanted was to be just a normal genius.
“You flatter me too much, Naitou-senpai,” Kyousuke replied with a polite smile.
“No, no, not at all! Things are all wrapped up with the company now, so how about stopping by the dojo for a chat? The head of the main house is really looking forward to seeing you.”
Eriri frowned slightly, wondering why her father hadn’t taken this guy along with the others.
Isn’t it normal for police to protect diplomats?
“I’m afraid I don’t have time today. There’s still a lot to handle at the company,” Kyousuke said with a polite refusal.
“But I’ve already made arrangements with President Konno. After the Mystery Writers Awards ceremony, I’ll make a formal visit to the main house.”
“I see.” Naitou didn’t seem the least bit discouraged by the rejection.
If anything, it only reinforced the image of Hojou Kyousuke he held in his mind—aloof, powerful, unshakable.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Funny you mention that—there is something you could help with,” a voice chimed in.
Still seated, Osaka Gou suddenly stood up and slung his arm around Naitou’s shoulders.
He had stayed behind specifically to discuss the Mystery Writers Awards with Kyousuke.
Now that the Bookstore Awards were settled, it was time to take care of this next item.
President Konno had already scheduled the banquet—it was just a matter of convincing the two “social faction” members on the judging panel.
Osaka Gou had heard from the president that Kyousuke was well-liked by the Hokushin Ittou-ryuu crowd, but he didn’t expect the faction’s spokesperson himself—Naitou Akifumi—to be this enthusiastic.
‘Had I known it’d be this easy, I wouldn’t have jumped through so many hoops.’
The so-called “social faction” in the mystery writing world revolved heavily around police-centric stories—many were even based on real-life cases.
Their ties with law enforcement ran deep. In fact, most famous works in the genre practically counted as police novels.
The lines were extremely blurry.
“I’ll head out now, Hojou. Don’t forget your promise with Naitou-san, alright?”
With that parting remark, Osaka Gou glanced at the three girls standing around Kyousuke.
Knowing exactly what kind of person Kyousuke was, he decided to do him a favor and dragged Naitou out with him.
“Thanks. Safe travels,” Kyousuke said, smiling as he waved goodbye.
‘As expected of Osaka—he really knows how to read a room.’
‘No wonder he can write shojo novels despite being a middle-aged man.’
Still, it was about time to pay a visit to Hokushin Ittou-ryuu.
Mitsuha’s kendo club still needed an instructor, and Kyousuke could gain a lot of support from them too.
Like in this current situation—if he had a few heavy-hitters from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police behind him, someone like Kosaka Akane wouldn’t dare act so openly.
Kyousuke pondered how to take advantage of the opportunity without accepting all the headaches that came with it.
As he thought about it, his conscience gave a soft nudge.
Before he knew it, the previously packed reception room had dwindled to just three… no, four people.
Eriri turned to glare at the red-eyed, dark-haired enchantress nearby, clearly attempting to will her out of existence with sheer force of will.
“I won’t even comment on your obsession with wanting alone time,” said Kasumigaoka with a dramatic eye-roll, her tone playfully charming. “But why are you only looking at me?”
“What are you talking about!? You’re the only one still here who doesn’t know when to leave!” Eriri muttered under her breath.
Kasumigaoka turned her head and glanced at Megumi Kato, who was sitting calmly beside her, idly admiring the room’s decor.
Then she looked back at the completely oblivious Eriri.
‘No wonder the Service Club had such a hard time boosting Kato’s presence... this was going to be a long campaign.’
“Welp, looks like all the drama’s over. I guess I’ll take my leave now.”
“EEK!”
The sudden voice startled Eriri so badly her pigtails nearly shot into the air.
She jumped back in shock and crashed into Kyousuke.
“M-M-Megumi!? Since when were you sitting there!? Wait, you didn’t leave yet!?”
“Haha, that’s why I told you not to worry about me,” Kato said with a calm smile. “You were going to forget I was here eventually.”
“No! I didn’t forget! It’s all Kasumigaoka Utaha’s fault!”
Eriri’s face turned red with guilt, and she quickly tried to explain.
“My fault?” Utaha raised a brow.
“Exactly! You’re too big! You completely blocked Megumi from view!”
Before Utaha could respond, Megumi glanced down at her own chest, then gave Eriri a deadpan look.
Eriri followed her gaze… and exploded.
“Megumi! What kind of look was that!? So rude!”
“Why don’t you stick around a bit longer?” Kyousuke offered, turning to Megumi with a warm smile. “The company has some fun stuff, like the recording booth and prop room. I was planning to give you a tour.”
“Sakura and Aunt Mikiko invited me home for lunch, and we’re going shopping this afternoon, so maybe next time. But if it’s not too much trouble… could I have one of the posters in the hallway?”
Megumi asked cheerfully, as if completely unaffected by Eriri’s tantrum.
She planned to use the poster as a bribe for her sister.
Her mom would be easy to fool with a “hanging out at a friend’s place” excuse, but her sister was another story.
If she wasn’t satisfied, she’d definitely “accidentally” blab about Hojou during her next visit home.
It wasn’t that Megumi didn’t want her parents to know about her new friend—it’s just that they’d ask a bunch of emotionally exhausting questions.
‘Yeah… better to keep this quiet.’
“Megumi, you’re way too chill sometimes,” Utaha muttered, finally letting go of her earlier suspicions.
“Let’s go. Eriri-sensei is about to start her top-secret creative work.”
