Chapter 2: Her Husband

Tokyo, Shinjuku.

On the 23rd floor of Ginza Avenue Tower—Okada Investment Co., Ltd.

The glass curtain wall of the building reflected drifting afternoon clouds, cold light flowing across the empty office space like a thin layer of frost.

Inside a corner office, Nakano Masao sat quietly before his computer.

The dim glow of the screen illuminated his face—so ordinary it was almost featureless.

His features lacked any defining traits, his outline blurred, as if deliberately stripped of individuality and pieced together into a “standard office worker’s mask.”

Thrown into the subway crowd, he would be forgotten within three seconds.

Yet those eyes were completely out of place on such a face.

Deep, still, sharp—like a hunter lurking in the jungle.

At that moment, his gaze was locked firmly onto a small surveillance window in the corner of the screen.

The image showed his own living room.

His wife, Nakano Risa, had just stepped out of the bathroom, her robe slightly open, her hair falling over her shoulders, her arms wrapped around her chest, her voice trembling softly:

“Saitō-kun… I’ve really never been with any man other than my husband…”

Meanwhile, the repairman’s eyes burned, his breathing growing heavier as his hand slowly reached toward her shoulder.

Nakano Masao did not grow angry.

Nor did he stand up.

Instead, the corners of his lips lifted slightly, forming a faint curve of something close to pleasure.

“What an interesting fellow… installing surveillance software on the company’s computer.”

“Does he want his wife to cheat, or not?”

“Heh, this kind of twisted thrill… truly fascinating.”

But… if this woman really got involved with that repairman—

Then he would have to consider making her disappear completely.

After all… a promiscuous wife was an unstable variable for him now.

He had no desire for the place he was temporarily staying in to be frequently visited by strange men.

And besides… he had a slight obsession with cleanliness.

Even if this body was one he had taken over, like a cuckoo occupying another bird’s nest, he had no intention of letting the original owner’s woman put a “green hat” on him.¹

So her only ending would be death.

“She’s quite a beauty… but you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.”

The man spoke softly.

As for the scene on the screen, he had already lost interest.

Passion, teasing, rising ambiguity—these emotional dramas that humans so loved were, in his eyes, nothing more than clumsy performances driven by lowly biological impulses.

If the original owner were still alive, seeing his wife standing so close to a strange man in the living room, he would likely already be overwhelmed with emotion, perhaps even secretly thrilled by the excitement of flirting on the edge of an affair.

But to him, it was utterly boring.

His fingertip hovered above the mouse, about to close that small surveillance window and end this meaningless voyeurism.

But at that very instant—

The scene changed abruptly!

Nakano Risa’s previously trembling shoulders suddenly tensed, the last trace of timidity in her eyes vanishing like mist.

Her steps shifted lightly, her center of gravity lowering.

Her right hand shot out like lightning, gripping Saitō Mao’s wrist, while her left supported his elbow.

Her waist twisted, power snapping forth like a drawn bowstring—

“Bang!”

The dull impact made even the camera tremble slightly.

The repairman—tall, well-built from years of training—was thrown violently by what looked like a frail woman, using textbook-perfect technique.

His back slammed heavily onto the carpet, and before he could even groan, he curled up, gasping in pain, his face pale, unable to move for a long while.

Even through the screen, one could feel the precision and force behind that throw.

“Leave.”

Nakano Risa stood upright, her voice as cold as the first gust of air from a newly turned-on air conditioner.

She grabbed the toolbox from the ground and tossed it toward the door.

“Don’t show up in front of me again.”

Saitō struggled to prop himself up, his face filled with shock and disbelief.

He opened his mouth, but no excuse came out.

All he could do was hunch over, pick up his tools in embarrassment, and stagger out the door.

Bang—

The door slammed shut, and silence returned to the room.

On the screen, Nakano Risa finally lost her strength and slowly slid down onto the sofa.

Her chest rose and fell violently, her fingertips trembling slightly.

The curve of her chest quivered faintly under the dim light, beads of sweat forming at her temples.

She was shaken.

But she did not cry.

Nor did she show regret.

It was more like… the lingering fear of someone who had narrowly escaped a dangerous gamble.

Perhaps she had thought of her husband, “working hard outside”?

Perhaps her conscience had caught her at the last moment?

Or perhaps—

She had never intended to cross the line at all.

From the very beginning, it had been a test… and a countermeasure.

The man stared at the screen for a long time, his gaze deep.

Then suddenly, he smiled.

Not mockery.

Not anger.

But a kind of amused appreciation—like seeing a docile cat suddenly reveal claws it should not possess.

“What an interesting woman… more intriguing than I expected.”

“The original owner’s wife… has some merit after all.”

“As long as you continue to behave and play the role of a wife… I’ll let you live a little longer.”

When the living room returned to silence, Nakano Risa, now alone, finally had the chance to “inspect” her new home.

She stood in the center of the spacious living room, looking around, a sense of indescribable satisfaction rising within her.

This two-story Japanese-style house was simply decorated yet warm.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a carefully maintained small garden.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm patches of light onto the wooden floor.

She took a deep breath, as if she could smell a faint hint of lavender in the air.

As for her life before transmigration, Nakano Risa decided not to think about it anymore.

It had been nothing more than the dull routine of a socially anxious shut-in—commuting between work and a rented room.

His greatest dream had been simple:

To have money, and stay at home forever.

And now, that wish had come true—just in a different way.

Although the cost was changing gender and already being married, it didn’t matter.

Because to her, this life was practically a dream come true.

No need to work.

No need to socialize.

The only people she needed to deal with in daily life were her husband and her son.

Perhaps because they had been married for over nine years, her husband, Nakano Masao, had stopped touching her several years ago.

For the original Nakano Risa, that might have been torment.

But for the current her, it was nothing short of a blessing.

It meant she didn’t have to deal with a man.

After all, she had once been a man herself—she knew all too well how men behaved when their hormones took over.

Especially considering she was now such a delicate beauty.

So, their relationship was more like roommates than husband and wife.

They rarely communicated, and even when they did, it was limited to everyday matters.

The new Nakano Risa didn’t mind this at all.

In fact, she found it easier this way.

She didn’t need to please him deliberately, nor worry about him making unreasonable demands.

They each lived in their own world, not interfering with one another, yet maintaining a subtle balance.

Thinking this, she couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, as if a heavy shackle had finally been removed.

¹ “Putting on a green hat” (戴绿帽子) is a Chinese idiom meaning being cheated on by one’s spouse.

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