That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B! Chapter 477: A Comfortable Life (Patreon)

"Sit over there."

Suzuki pointed his spoon casually toward the other end of the sprawling living room. The sliding wooden doors were pushed wide open, letting in the cool night breeze and the rhythmic, hollow clack of a bamboo deer chaser from the Zen garden outside. He sat cross-legged on a plush, modern sofa that contrasted sharply with the traditional estate, digging a spoon into a half-cut luxury musk melon. The sweet, fragrant scent of the ripe fruit filled the air between them.

"You sure live like a king," Yuki murmured.

She dropped onto the sofa beside him, sinking into the expensive cushions with a relaxed sigh. She stretched her arms above her head, the movement pulling her shirt taut and highlighting the generous, toned curves of her chest. While she certainly didn't lack money herself, she couldn't squander it on a whim like Suzuki. He had everything.

Watching him eat a melon that probably cost more than a car without a second thought stirred a twinge of jealousy in her.

"Take one from the fridge over there," Suzuki said, gesturing toward a sleek, built-in refrigerator nestled in the corner of the room.

"Thanks."

Yuki didn't hesitate. She pushed herself up, her hips swaying slightly as she walked over to the fridge. When she opened it, the cool air spilled out, carrying the faint, crisp scent of chilled fruit. She didn't grab the melon right away. Her eyes scanned the shelves, lighting up as she pulled out the fruit—and an armful of high-end alcohol.

"Care to share your spirits?" she asked, turning back around with several heavy glass bottles clinking against her chest.

"Aren't you driving?" Suzuki asked, watching her lazily. "If you stay the night, Maki might snap your neck while you sleep."

"Hahaha..." Yuki threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright and echoing in the quiet estate. "How cute~!"

Suzuki simply glanced at her, taking another bite of his melon. She might be the only person alive who could brush off a threat from Maki—the inheritor of the Heavenly Restriction—as "cute." Then again, it made sense. Yuki was arguably the strongest female jujutsu sorcerer in the world.

Special Grade.

It was a title reserved exclusively for anomalies, and the fact that she held it meant she was a walking natural disaster. Yet her actual combat record was practically non-existent. She rarely took missions or fought cursed spirits, preferring to spend her time traveling overseas where the air was clear and people lived in blissful, oblivious peace.

"Yummy~!"

Yuki popped the cork off a rare, aged brandy. The rich, woody aroma of the liquor instantly hit Suzuki's nose as she poured a generous splash directly into the hollowed-out center of her melon. She scooped out a bite of the alcohol-soaked fruit, her lips wrapping around the spoon with a thoroughly satisfied smile. A faint, rosy flush was already dusting her cheeks.

"Did you just get back from overseas?" Suzuki asked.

"Yup. Just got back from the Middle East."

"Did you bring me a souvenir?"

"Er..." Yuki paused mid-bite, the spoon still in her mouth. She hesitated for a moment, then set her melon down and rummaged through her travel bag. "Here. You can have this."

She tossed a small plastic bag onto the table between them. Inside was a block of something dense and white.

"What is this?"

"Halva. It's a sweet from the Middle East."

"Thanks." Suzuki set his melon aside, broke off a piece of the dense treat, and placed it on his tongue. It crumbled instantly, a rich, nutty sweetness melting against the roof of his mouth.

"How is it?" she asked, leaning in closer.

"It's quite good."

"Your melon is better, though," Yuki sighed, picking up her makeshift brandy-fruit bowl again. "Ah, don't suddenly ask me to pay for this. I don't have enough on me!"

Fruit in Japan is notoriously expensive. Knowing how sharp and calculating Suzuki could be, she figured it was best to put her defenses up early.

"It's fine. I don't care about your pocket money." Suzuki shrugged indifferently. To him, her entire life savings were barely a rounding error.

His nonchalant answer made Yuki smile. She shifted closer on the sofa, deliberately bumping her shoulder against his. The sudden proximity brought a wave of her perfume—something floral and musky—mixed with the sharp tang of the brandy on her breath.

"So, am I tempting you?" she teased, her voice dropping a fraction of an octave. "I am pretty beautiful, after all."

Suzuki stared at her with deadpan eyes, taking in the flush on her skin, the confident smirk on her lips, and the way her legs were casually crossed, drawing the eye right to her thighs.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah. Beautiful."

"Hey, that's not how you praise a woman!" Yuki pouted, leaning in even closer, her chest brushing against his arm. "If you want to pursue me, you should put a little more effort into it!"

Suzuki remained silent.

Did he look like a guy trying to chase her?

Sure, if he were going to build some kind of harem, he could think of worse candidates. But dealing with the women in the jujutsu world was an entirely different beast. If they were the kind, gentle girls from a lighthearted fantasy world, he'd be more than happy to indulge. But in this world? If he tried to run a harem here, his home, his estate, and his fortune would probably be reduced to ash in a week.

"You're right," Suzuki finally replied, his tone shifting into something a little softer, as he liked the challenge, so he should go all out. "I should treat you better."

"O-Oh..." Yuki blinked, genuinely startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. The playful confidence faltered for a second.

"So, what should I call you?" he asked.

"I... well, I am older than you," she recovered quickly, flashing a cheeky grin. "You can call me Onee-chan if you want."

"Yuki-san, then."

"First name already?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Yuki beamed, a genuinely bright, cheerful smile replacing her seductive pout. "I'll just call you Suzuki, then."

"Okay." Suzuki watched as a sudden giggle bubbled up from her throat. "Why are you laughing?"

"No reason." She set her empty plate down and cupped both hands lightly against her cheeks, looking at him with wide, amused eyes. "It's just... is this what it feels like when someone is chasing you?"

Suzuki just stared at her.

Was she really this easy?

Usually, pursuing a woman was like fishing. You cast the line, you wait, you struggle to reel them in, you let them tire themselves out, and eventually—maybe—you catch something. It was a process. Yet here was Yuki, sitting in his living room, practically folding her hands in her lap and waiting to be caught.

Then again, was anyone in the jujutsu world normal?

When he thought about it, it made sense. In a world where anyone could die the very next day, people didn't waste time playing coy. And objectively speaking, Suzuki knew his own worth. He was handsome, obscenely wealthy, commanded absolute authority in the Zenin clan, and had the raw power to stand toe-to-toe with Gojo.

But more importantly? He was normal. He had no crippling trauma, no insane ideology, and no desperate desire to dominate the world. He just wanted some peace of mind. Though finding peace of mind in this world felt almost impossible.

"Haven't you been chased by other guys before?" Suzuki asked, realizing he sounded a bit narcissistic, but her reaction left him curious. "You are beautiful, after all."

"It's not like I haven't been chased," she said, leaning back into the cushions. "I know exactly how gorgeous I am."

Suzuki waited.

"But whether I'm interested or not is a completely different story, right?"

It was the brutal, realistic truth. Plenty of men wanted her, but none of them were her type. That was it.

"So you are interested in me. That's why you came here," Suzuki said, testing the waters.

"Yup. You hit the nail on the head." Yuki nodded without a shred of hesitation.

Suzuki blinked.

"Being the wife of the Zenin Clan's young patriarch sounds like a pretty great deal, too," she added, her tone light but calculating. Marrying Suzuki was essentially a fast pass to a comfortable life. "Don't worry. I'm very loyal. And since I move around a lot, I really don't mind if you have other lovers."

She'd been reading too many trashy romance novels lately—the ones where the aloof billionaire CEO gets seduced by the ordinary girl. She knew real life wasn't like that, but she also knew she brought plenty to the table as a Special Grade. As long as she had the title of official wife, what he did on his own time was his business.

"Leaving marriage aside—since I don't think we need to rush down the aisle just yet—why exactly do you move around so much?" Suzuki asked, steering the conversation.

"Because I want to treat the root cause of curses in this world."

Suzuki felt a distinct drop in the room's atmosphere. The playful tension evaporated, replaced by the heavy, philosophical weight he had been expecting since she arrived.

He let out a quiet, internal sigh, scooped up another piece of melon, and braced himself for the lecture.

Chomp!