Chapter Seventy: The Demon Blade Muramasa

It must be said that part of the ticket price for Thousand Islands Aquarium is indeed worth it. Not to mention the science audio guide that explains fish knowledge at the press of a button—the finely crafted silicone models, lifelike and even textured with scales, alone show the aquarium’s dedication to service.

Nearby, an open area surrounded by tanks is home to a café for visitors, selling cold drinks, ice cream, and sweet snacks. Chen Zi’ang placed the models he’d brought back on the table, allowing his sister to touch them one by one and paint their shapes in her mind. Though she couldn’t see their dazzling colors, for Chen Xiaozhu, who rarely left home, this was surely a satisfying experience.

“Senpai, let Xiaozhu stay here and ‘see’ at her own pace,” said Suzuna Tsukimiya, eating ice cream. “Let’s take a walk over there.”

“I’ll look after Miss Xiaozhu,” proposed Goro Emon, eager to create an opportunity for his young mistress to be alone with Chen Zi’ang.

Seeing his sister calm and content, Chen Zi’ang felt reassured and followed Suzuna Tsukimiya deeper into the aquarium.

To be honest, how long had it been since he’d relaxed like this? In the past, he rarely left home on weekends, always staying by his sister’s side—worried she’d bump into things, afraid she’d be frightened without him there.

Having a butler to help really is convenient…

Chen Zi’ang’s thoughts drifted, when suddenly someone gently pulled his right hand forward.

“Senpai, look! Sakana!” Suzuna’s cheerful voice snapped him back to reality.

Before he could react, the warm touch vanished. Suzuna was pressed against the glass of the tank, wide-eyed, marveling at the elegant schools of fish.

“Senpai, how many colors do their scales have? It’s like a rainbow!”

“Indeed,” Chen Zi’ang replied, watching the fish. Their scales, shimmering and changing with every movement, created a most beautiful display.

“What’s sakana?” he asked.

“It means ‘fish,’” Suzuna answered, still glued to the glass. “Don’t be fooled by my privileged upbringing—my parents were strict. I wasn’t allowed out with friends as a child.”

“So this is actually my first time at an aquarium.”

“How does it feel?” Chen Zi’ang asked.

“I think… I quite like fish,” Suzuna said, poking the glass with her finger, trying to catch the rainbow fish’s attention.

Chen Zi’ang thought she’d linger, but she soon lost interest and turned to him. “Senpai, let’s head to Dolphin Bay and try whatever that fish is.”

Dolphin Bay connects the aquarium to the external thermal lake—a non-open-air inlet where staff regularly scatter feed, attracting freshwater dolphins to dwell nearby. They’re semi-wild, semi-trained.

These dolphins are remarkably intelligent, able to follow trainers’ commands and perform. But with the rise of animal rights activism, many now equate “animal training” with “animal cruelty.” Dolphin performances suffered heavy criticism and boycotts in the media, forcing the aquarium to permanently cancel them.

Thus, when Chen Zi’ang and Suzuna arrived, only a few visitors leaned on the railings, while dolphins surfaced, calling out to them in friendly tones.

He wondered if they meant “feed me” or “play with me”—after all, he hadn’t redeemed any “animal language proficiency” powers.

Suzuna glanced to the right. Near the bay’s edge, a large open space once used for dolphin shows was about to host a group wedding.

Where’s Xiaoxi? Why isn’t she here yet? The ceremony’s at two—shouldn’t she have arrived by ten at the latest? Even if she’s not invested in her own wedding, she could at least help me out!

Suzuna discreetly glanced at Chen Zi’ang, seeing he was engrossed by the dolphins, and quickly took out her phone to check her friend’s whereabouts.

“Mr. Chen?” A woman’s voice sounded nearby.

Suzuna started and looked up, realizing the visitor was a woman around forty.

“Ms. Takano?” Chen Zi’ang recognized her, surprised.

“I didn’t expect you to remember me,” she said, attempting a polite smile that faltered. Troubled sorrow lingered in her brows, making her appear weary. Chen Zi’ang sensed something was amiss—he remembered her last as a sharp, efficient professional, decisive in speech and action.

He did not dwell on it, but introduced her to Suzuna: “Takano Seiko, a very capable lawyer. This is my colleague, Suzuna Tsukimiya.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Takano,” Suzuna replied with composure.

“Suzuna Tsukimiya?” Takano Seiko seemed to recognize her, asking in surprise, “Are you… from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, daughter of Tsukimiya Seisho?”

“Yes, that’s my father,” Suzuna admitted calmly.

Takano was stunned for a moment, then spoke quietly: “Mr. Chen, though it’s been long and I hate to bring this up, I need your help.”

Suzuna couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, while Chen Zi’ang, hearing a request for help, instinctively shifted into his public safety officer mode.

“Is something wrong? Please, go on.”

Takano Seiko was silent for a moment, then said, “Mr. Chen, do you remember the sexual harassment case from before?”

“I do,” Chen Zi’ang nodded. Seeing Suzuna’s confused expression (how did a date turn into this?), he explained.

It happened about two and a half years after he joined the Bureau of Public Safety. On an assignment, he encountered a stranger assaulting Takano Seiko.

As a public safety officer, his work focused on the supernatural, but maintaining social order was second nature. He quickly intervened. Only after did he learn the story.

Takano, a lawyer, was helping a client deal with workplace sexual harassment. The client wanted the harassment stopped, avoiding litigation if possible. Takano gathered enough evidence, then confronted the perpetrator, demanding he cease or face legal action.

The man, seeing she was a woman, decided to use force, intending to seize and destroy the evidence she presented.

Had Chen Zi’ang not acted, she would surely have been beaten, evidence aside.

“After that, we exchanged contacts,” Chen Zi’ang concluded. “I sometimes consult Ms. Takano on legal matters.”

“Oh, I see,” Suzuna breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was just a helpful acquaintance.

“Mr. Chen,” Takano forced a pale smile, then continued, “It was that case that inspired me to try to do something.”

“Sexual harassment—whether at work or in life—is difficult to prove, hard to define, and the law is often powerless. Women are always the victims, the vulnerable group. Many quietly endure, unable to protect themselves legally, not even daring to say ‘no’ to abusers.”

“So I and some colleagues formed a group called the Women’s Mutual Aid Association.”

“We seek out victims of sexual harassment, persuade them to seek help, guide them to collect evidence, and use law or public opinion to protect themselves.”

“Oh, that’s admirable,” Chen Zi’ang nodded.

Then, the strained, polite smile on Takano’s face faded, leaving only a bleak, helpless pallor.

“Last month, a university student entrusted our association, accusing a male classmate of secretly filming under her skirt.”

“Several members took the case, approached the university, and requested the boy publicly apologize to the victim.”

“But he never admitted it, and that night, jumped from the fifth-floor balcony.”

“He… was my son.”