"Kurosaki, you old dog!"
Young Master Toshio was red-faced with agitation, anger rising in his eyes. Obscenities surged to his throat, but in the end, he held them back.
Butler Kurosaki was that old bastard's trusted confidant. Even as the "crown prince," Toshio could not order him around or freely curse and beat him.
"Fuck, how did things end up like this?!"
Toshio had been on the other side of the ocean, breathing the sweet air of freedom and enjoying the attentive service of Latin American beauty queens, American blonde sweethearts, and hot Black women, when a single phone call summoned him back to Japan.
At first, he had excitedly assumed that the old bastard's body was finally giving out and that he was being called home to arrange the funeral and settle the inheritance.
Never had he imagined that the moment he stepped off his private jet, he would be taken to a private hospital for a thorough physical examination under the scrutiny of a group of doctors and health specialists, then have his freedom restricted and be placed under partial house arrest in this estate.
Over the next few days, he had to complete a full ten hours of exercise every day according to a training plan. His meals were bland, unpalatable nutritional dishes prepared by a team of nutritionists. Women, cigarettes, and alcohol were out of the question.
A wastrel who had spent his entire life drinking and womanizing could hardly endure such an ascetic existence. That very day, he had made a scene, threatening a hunger strike in protest.
The chairman, who had spoiled Young Master Toshio in every possible way since childhood, had instantly turned hostile. Without a word, he had jabbed his cane into Toshio's stomach, nearly making him throw up the previous night's