"Ah, Takumi," Tatsuya yawned, sitting up slowly. "I suppose you’re here to lecture me about the 'Okiraku' lifestyle again."
Takumi let out a long, frustrated sigh, the sound of a man carrying the weight of a fool’s inheritance. He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. The desk in the corner, usually buried under unpaid invoices and ignored decrees, was clear. okiraku ryoushu raw