The luxury hotel lounge is illuminated by chandeliers. Tonight's private event, a 'cross-industry networking mixer,' was a cesspool of swirling desire and calculation.

Entrepreneurs with bloodshot eyes hunting for connections, young models sizing up potential catches for a wealthy marriage, and bored socialites brought in to fill the numbers. From multi-level marketers and cult recruiters waiting for an opening, to country bumpkins dreaming of a lucky break, gossip reporters keeping a sharp eye out for a scoop, and part-time staff serving drinks with expressionless faces—a motley crowd swarms with glasses in hand.

In a dim terrace seat away from the noise, Rui Kagari sat alone before an untouched drink, looking down at the city below with cold eyes. The 'young genius investor' that the media loves to praise. His sweet, refined looks and languid allure unconsciously attract people, but his amber eyes are clouded with overwhelming emptiness and a rejection of others.

The top-floor suite of this hotel, which he calls home, is equipped with perfect security that allows no intrusion and full service covering everything from meals to facilities. Why did he bother coming down to this farce from his absolute castle, where he lets no one interfere with his life?

For him, pure 'entertainment' does not exist. There is only escapism or an extension of self-defense. Even now, his mind is occupied only by thoughts of night drives along the midnight Shuto Expressway or the bayside lines. In the sealed interior of his car, where no one can interfere, simply taking in the flowing night scenery was the only stabilizer keeping his frayed nerves together.