pertwk Chapter 76 The Human World
Chapter 76 The Human World
Ichikawa City, Chiba Prefecture.
National Highway 14 cuts through this chaotic suburb. Heavy trucks roar past, kicking up puddles and splashing a mixture of oil and mud onto the roadside guardrails.
Two o'clock in the morning.
The lights were still on in the 24-hour family restaurant "Skylark".
"Welcome! How many of you are there?"
Masami Okura bent down mechanically, her voice slightly hoarse.
She wore a red uniform vest over a pilling white shirt. Her legs, which used to be clad only in custom-made silk skirts, were now encased in cheap flesh-colored stockings, and on her feet were a pair of worn-out black round-toed leather shoes.
At this restaurant, no one knew she was the daughter of a former real estate tycoon. Everyone just called her "Okura-san," the slow-moving, quiet night shift worker.
We want a window seat!
Several young men, who had just come out of a pachinko parlor, squeezed in noisily, their bodies reeking of cigarette smoke.
Yamei led them to the window.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see the building next door that was recently completed.
It was a huge, glowing white cube.
Even in the dead of night, the red square logo—UNIQLO—is still dazzlingly bright. It's the only clean thing in this gloomy industrial area, so clean it seems unreal.
"Hey, waiter, what time does Uniqlo close?" a young man with dyed blond hair asked.
"...8 PM."
Yamei answered while wiping the table, her head down.
"Tch, they closed so early. I heard the clothes there were practically free; I was thinking of buying a couple of pairs of underwear."
The young man laughed and ordered several of the cheapest hamburger patties.
Yamei took the order taker and headed towards the kitchen.
Her hands were trembling slightly.
She had checked out the store when it first opened. Although it was inconspicuous, she still noticed those two letters in the corner of the flyer:
SA
That was a nightmare.
Six months ago, outside her father's sickbed, she sold the last of her family's assets to the Saionji family. The lawyer named Sasaki's indifferent face and that fifty million yen check were the greatest humiliation of her life.
And now, this family has even opened a shop next to the restaurant where she works.
……
Six o'clock in the morning. Time to leave work.
Yami changed back into her casual clothes.
That was her only remaining designer item—a Burberry trench coat she had bought two years ago. But due to long-term neglect, the cuffs were worn out, and the hem was stained with oil stains that couldn't be washed off.
She pushed open the back door of the restaurant.
A sudden gust of cold wind, mixed with icy rain, lashed down on us.
"hiss--"
Yami hunched her neck and tried to zip up her trench coat.
"Click".
The zipper is stuck.
She tugged at it a few times with force.
"collapse."
The zipper pull broke.
Her trench coat was open, and the thin sweater underneath offered no protection against the biting, damp cold. The wind cut like knives into her skin, making her teeth chatter.
Yamei stood in the filthy back alley, clutching the broken zipper pull in her hand.
I almost burst into tears.
It's not because it's cold, it's because we're poor.
She couldn't afford a new coat. Her father's medical bills, rent, and the mess left by her mother had drained her of every penny. She even saved money on dry cleaning and ate leftover expired bread from restaurants every day.
"It's so cold..."
She hugged her arms tightly, trembling.
If she doesn't buy some clothes, she'll freeze before she even gets to the station.
Her gaze involuntarily drifted to the neighbor's.
That white square.
UNIQLO.
It had just opened its doors. Bright lights streamed through the massive glass facade, illuminating the wet street like a warm sanctuary.
The poster at the entrance features a thick hooded sweatshirt.
Below it was written a huge number: ¥1900.
1900 yen.
Yami touched her pocket. There was her daily wage of 10,000 yen, which she had just received.
affordable.
But... that's the Saionji family's shop.
It's that shop by Saionji Satsuki.
"I'm not going... I'd rather die than go..."
Yamei gritted her teeth, turned around, and tried to walk towards the station.
A stronger gust of cold wind blew in, and rain soaked her sweater. She sneezed, feeling as if she had inhaled a mouthful of ice crystals.
The body's instincts screamed, and dignity became precarious in the face of survival.
Can dignity put food on the table?
Can dignity keep you warm?
If I don't go, I'll catch a cold and fever tomorrow, and I won't even be able to earn this hourly wage for this part-time job.
Five minutes later.
Yami stood in the Uniqlo store.
There were no sales assistants here. Naturally, no one would cast a disdainful glance at her dirty trench coat. Nor would anyone scrutinize her shoes with the same scrutinizing eyes one would have in a luxury store.
There are only clothes arranged neatly by color on an entire wall.
There are also those fluorescent lights that are so bright that you can't hide from them.
Yamei, with her head down, quickly walked to the hoodie section like a thief.
She picked up a gray fleece-lined sweatshirt.
It has a thick feel, and the fleece lining inside is incredibly soft.
She glanced at the price tag.
1900 yen.
In the past, this wouldn't even have been enough for her to buy a cup of coffee in Ginza.
She took the clothes and went into the fitting room.
I took off that tattered trench coat and put on this sweatshirt that smelled like new clothes.
warm.
The feeling of being wrapped in thick cotton cloth instantly dispelled the chill from my body.
Yamei looked at herself in the mirror.
Without the designer trench coat, she looked like an ordinary passerby. But the coat fit her perfectly, with a clean cut and no unnecessary embellishments, which actually made her tired face look more pleasant.
She looked at herself in the mirror and suddenly smiled.
His smile looked worse than his tears.
"Okura Masami, you're such a useless piece of trash."
She murmured to herself.
"You hate her, you hate Saionji Satsuki. But now, you have to rely on the cheap clothes she sells to keep warm."
She stroked her reflection in the mirror.
"No, you don't hate her. Why would you hate her? You don't even have the right to hate her."
"You brought this all on yourself."
She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Only that stiff smile remained, like a mask stuck to her face.
You can't stay too long, or the staff will get angry.
She walked out of the fitting room and went to the cashier to pay.
"I'll take your two thousand, and give you one hundred in change."
The clerk handed over the change, receipt, and a paper bag with the red "UNIQLO" logo printed on it.
Yami took the paper bag.
She walked out of the shop and stepped back into the cold rain.
It feels warm.
But in her heart, that once proud young lady had died completely at this moment.
She became a prisoner of the Saionji Empire.
He bought off his last shred of backbone for 1900 yen.
But it also brought about a new beginning.
......
Urawa, Saitama Prefecture.
The weekend sun, unusually, pierced through the clouds and shone on this huge housing complex (public rental housing community).
Thousands of matchbox-like apartment buildings stand in neat rows, their balconies overflowing with colorful quilts and clothes, each a vibrant flag of life waving in the wind.
A white Suzuki K-Car struggled to make a U-turn at the intersection and squeezed into the already full parking lot on the side of the road.
"Honey! Hurry! There's an empty seat over there!"
Mrs. Tanaka sat in the passenger seat, directing her husband to park the car. In the back seat, their two children were playing and banging on the windows.
"Okay, okay..."
Mr. Tanaka wiped the sweat from his brow as he carefully parked his car between the two trucks.
This is Uniqlo's first store in Saitama.
This is what is known as a "roadside shop".
Unlike department stores that are high up and mighty, it's built right next to the national highway, like a giant gas station, except instead of gas, it fills up clothes.
"Let's go! I heard today's limited-time special is on socks, 100 yen a pair!"
Mrs. Tanaka, carrying a shopping basket, jumped out of the car like a charging general.
She's been very anxious lately.
Although the TV was reporting on the booming economy and soaring stock prices, she noticed that even radishes and cabbages in the supermarket were getting more expensive. Her husband's salary had increased slightly, but it couldn't keep up with the skyrocketing prices.
I used to dare to go to department stores, but now I feel guilty even just looking at the shop windows.
But it's different here.
Walk through that automatic door.
Spacious, bright, and without that annoying salesperson who follows you around pushing their sales pitch.
Wow! So many colors!
The children rushed to the children's clothing section. There, T-shirts covered an entire wall like a rainbow.
Mrs. Tanaka glanced at the price tag.
Children's T-shirt: ¥500.
She rubbed her eyes.
500 yen?
It costs 1000 yen at JUSCO!
She picked one up and touched it. It was pure cotton, felt great, and wasn't one of those cheap, low-quality items that would deform after just one wash.
"Buy them! Buy two for Xiaojian and two for Xiaomei!"
She threw the clothes into the basket with a sense of cathartic pleasure.
Then comes the men's clothing section.
The husband was staring blankly at a pair of jeans.
"Honey, these pants... only 2900?"
The husband was somewhat incredulous. The Levi's he was wearing, which he had bought for over ten thousand yuan three years ago, was already worn out.
"purchase!"
Mrs. Tanaka waved her hand dismissively.
Finally, there's the women's clothing section.
She took a fancy to a flannel plaid shirt. The red and black plaid looked very stylish, and it felt soft to the touch.
She had seen a similar style in a magazine before, which cost 8,000 yen.
It's only 1900 here.
"purchase!"
Half an hour later.
A family of four carried two full shopping baskets to the checkout counter.
"The total is 8,450 yen."
The cashier reads out the numbers.
Mrs. Tanaka was taken aback.
In the past, just the husband's pair of pants would have cost over ten thousand yuan. But now, all the new clothes for the whole family add up to less than ten thousand yuan?
She took out a 10,000 yuan bill and handed it over.
She took the change of over a thousand yen and looked at the two heavy bags in her hands.
An unprecedented sense of happiness welled up in my heart.
She snatched a piece of meat back from the jaws of this inflationary monster.
"Honey, let's go get conveyor belt sushi for lunch!"
Mrs. Tanaka said, beaming.
"The remaining money is just enough for one meal!"
"Okay!"
The family walked out of the store happily.
They were unaware that this so-called "cheap" price was built upon the sweat and toil of female factory workers in distant Shanghai, and the massive capital operations of the Saionji family. (The welfare and benefits at the Saionji family's Shanghai factory were absolutely top-tier; it wasn't some exploitative factory.)
All they know is that in this era of skyrocketing prices, this is the only place that makes them feel "rich".
This is the cheapest and most effective anesthetic.
......
Kanagawa Prefecture, Sagamihara.
The night was dark.
This is the edge of the Tokyo metropolitan area, and also a new hot spot for development.
On a newly leveled construction site, searchlights tore a hole in the darkness.
"Hurry! A truckload of cement has arrived! Unload it!"
The foreman, wearing a yellow hard hat, was shouting into a walkie-talkie.
Kenjiro Saionji lowered the brim of his hat, hoisted a 50-kilogram bag of cement, and trudged toward the cement mixer.
His current name is "Tanaka Ken".
A temporary worker with no past and no identity.
A few years ago, he was the head of a branch family of the Saionji clan, driving luxury cars and drinking imported liquor.
Now, he's wearing work pants stained with mortar, his palms covered in calluses and cracks. Sweat stings his eyes, but he dares not wipe it away because his hands are covered in cement dust.
"Hurry up! We need to top it out this week!"
The foreman was still urging them to hurry.
Kenjiro threw the cement into the hopper, straightened up, and took a breath.
He looked up at the huge rendering board erected in front of the construction site.
That's what this building will look like in the future.
A white, glowing cube.
It has a red logo printed on it: UNIQLO.
It's that name again.
Kenjiro's lips twitched slightly.
Of course he knew whose property it was. It belonged to his niece, Saionji Satsuki, the one who had driven him out of his home and left him with nowhere to turn.
Moreover, he heard that the person behind the brand was Tadashi Yanai, the small clothing store owner he had met in Osaka and ridiculed.
Right now, Yanai is the hottest rising star in the Japanese business world.
And he, Kenjiro Saionji, is here, like a slave, contributing to the construction of their empire.
"How ironic..."
Kenjiro spat out a mouthful of saliva that tasted like cement.
Just then, a black Mercedes-Benz drove into the construction site.
The car door opened.
Several men in sharp suits got out of the car.
The leader was Tadashi Yanai.
He looked much more confident than he did a year ago in Osaka; his eyes were sharp, and he walked with a confident stride.
"Here! The wall here must be perfectly smooth!"
Tadashi Yanai pointed to the exterior wall under construction and said to the project manager beside him.
"I want absolute white! Not a single flaw! This is our first flagship store in Kanagawa, and it's crucial to our entire Kanto strategy!"
His voice was loud and clear, carrying the authority of a superior.
Kenjiro instinctively shrank further into the shadows.
He was afraid of being recognized.
Although he looks like this now, even his own mother probably wouldn't recognize him.
Tadashi Yanai's gaze swept over the busy workers, but did not linger on any of them.
"Everyone has worked hard!"
Yanai Masaru said loudly.
"Everyone working overtime tonight will receive double pay, plus a midnight snack and two rice balls!"
"Thank you, President!"
The workers cheered. In fact, the workers received quite good treatment during the construction of Saionji Temple, which made them more willing to do their best to complete the work.
Kenshiro echoed in a low voice, lowering his head to hide the fleeting despair in his eyes.
He looked at the spirited Yanai Tadashi, then at his own hands covered in grime.
He understood that he had long been completely abandoned by this era.
It started when he signed that contract for independent operation.
He is no longer a player, and he has no value even as a piece.
He was merely a silent, insignificant stepping stone beneath the foundation of this vast empire.
"Get to work."
His coworker next to him gave him a push.
"What are you staring at? Trying to get your pay docked?"
"They're here."
Kenjiro bent down and picked up the heavy bag of cement again.
The heavy load bent his spine.
He said to himself:
live.
Even if it means living like a dog, I will survive.
The night wind blew across the construction site, stirring up clouds of dust.
It concealed the true nature of human life.