Although as the years passed, Chinatsu Ayase was no longer the little girl who could be easily deceived by her Father.
With growing awareness and a broader perspective, she gradually pieced together the cold, harsh truth:
It turned out that her Father was the dishonorable third party who intruded upon someone else’s marriage, and she herself was the bitter fruit born from this mistaken relationship—a Bastard Daughter, destined to be despised, forever unable to stand in the sunlight with her head held high.
However, this cruel truth did nothing to dispel the resentment that had accumulated in her heart for years.
That hatred was like Roots buried deep beneath the frozen soil—not only did it not rot, but instead, nourished by the realization of her own “Original Sin,” it crept and took hold even deeper into the darkness, growing ever heavier and more twisted.
She realized that there was never really anyone who “stole” what was supposed to belong to her.
Rather, from the moment she was born, there was an indelible “sin” flowing in her blood.
It was precisely this innate mark that doomed her to wander in a foreign land, longing for a Destiny forever out of reach.
This realization was like a Poisoned Dagger, piercing through her last thread of self-consolation, making her feel even more acutely the almost cruel injustice of Destiny.
Why? They were both daughters of the same Mother, so why was that so-called Sister entitled to everything by default—a complete family, a legitimate identity, readily available maternal love, and resources others envied?
And yet, Chinatsu Ayase was doomed to scurry like a rat in the gutter, surviving on others’ pity and scraps, struggling just to live in the cracks?
No! She would never accept her fate!
A fire, mixed with unwillingness, anger, and an intense possessiveness, burned fiercely in her chest.
Since Destiny treated her so unfairly, she would take it upon herself to seize everything that belonged to her Sister!
From a certain twisted and obsessive perspective, perhaps Chinatsu Ayase’s Father could be considered “successful.”
The daughter he poured his heart and soul into raising had surpassed him in selfishness and calculation, becoming an even colder and more single-minded egotist.
This coldness revealed itself completely when her Father encountered the Car Accident and hovered on the brink of death.
When the Rescue Room Red Light—a symbol of life and death—glared above the Emergency Room door, and the air was thick with disinfectant and despair, Chinatsu Ayase sat alone on the frigid metal bench, her face betraying little grief.
Her slender fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes, her gaze vacant as she stared at the snow-white wall opposite, while her mind raced, weighing things with cold calculation:
If her Father were to pass away, would it be a net benefit or a net loss for her?
Would being free of his control and demands mean greater autonomy for herself?
And what about the price of this “freedom”—was it worth losing an “Ally” and “Shield” who was, for the time being, still useful?
In the end, the pronouncement that resuscitation had failed was like a final verdict—cold, irreversible.
Chinatsu Ayase rose slowly and walked toward the Push Bed, its shape outlined by a White Sheet.
Beneath the White Sheet was the man who had given her life and once treated her as a tool, now finally fallen into silence.
There was still no expression on her face, only a faint, complex flicker of light deep in her eyes that was nearly impossible to detect.
She did not cry, nor did she tremble; instead, with remarkable composure, she took out her phone and dialed the number of her Mother, who was thousands of miles away in Japan.
The moment the call connected, her voice changed abruptly, thick with barely suppressed sobs that sounded all the more sorrowful, as she conveyed the devastating news of her Father’s death in a Car Accident to the woman on the other end.
Yet within her mournful report, she wove several crucial lies.
Her voice trembling, she haltingly described how her Father had met with misfortune while on his way to pick her up from school, deftly hiding the fact that, in truth, he had died in a car while out on a date with a new White Woman.
Then, in a tone nearly frail and full of dependence, she added that in his last moments on the ambulance, her Father had summoned the last of his strength to grip her hand tightly and, with a dying breath, urged her to return to the side of the woman he loved—her Mother.
These carefully crafted lies took immediate effect.
On the other end of the line, the woman—seasoned in love and never lacking for male admirers—could not help but conjure up the image of a passionate, sorrowful man:
A boy who had been hopelessly devoted to her since the radiant age of eighteen, raising their Love Child alone in a foreign country for years without complaint, who even at the end of his life, thought only of her.
People’s hearts are flesh and blood, after all. Even after countless casual affairs, the woman was seized by a sudden surge of emptiness and loss, as if she had truly lost a man who “genuinely loved her” forever.
A complicated emotion—a mix of reminiscence and guilt—silently welled up in her heart.
Out of this need to compensate, the woman quickly and efficiently arranged for Chinatsu Ayase to return to Japan.
When she finally saw her daughter—who had drifted abroad for so many years—face to face, and found her not only smart and clever, but also poised, respectful, and far more attuned to her wishes than her rebellious eldest daughter, her guilt quickly shifted to practical consideration, even sparking the thought of grooming Chinatsu Ayase as her future heir.
Chinatsu Ayase’s wish was finally fulfilled as she set foot on the soil of Japan.
And it was here that, for the first time, she met the Sister who had been cursed countless times in her dreams—the one who shared her Mother, but not her Father.
When they met, her Sister’s gaze passed over her calmly, as if looking at an unimportant piece of furniture, utterly unmoved.
There was none of the expected anger or disdain, not even the slightest hint of curiosity.
That thorough, natural disregard hurt Chinatsu Ayase even more than open hostility—it was as if her very existence was not even worth a flicker of emotion.
Afterwards, through various inquiries, Chinatsu Ayase learned a fact that tipped her mind further off balance:
Her Sister had absolutely no interest in the family resources and status that Chinatsu Ayase had dreamed of and fought so hard to claim—in fact, she seemed faintly dismissive of them.
As long as her Sister wished it, she wouldn’t even need to fight to “seize” anything. Their Mother would willingly hand over anything she needed.
This realization did not relieve or relax Chinatsu Ayase. Instead, it was like a bucket of oil poured on the fire of her jealousy.
Why was it that what she treasured and fought tooth and nail for could be so easily discarded by the other?
Fate was mocking her yet again. Her hatred not only failed to abate, but became even more twisted and intense.
She swore silently that she would make this lofty Sister taste the same pain, humiliation, and longing she herself had endured!
However, Chinatsu Ayase understood all too well that revenge required resources and power.
Before that, she must first gain solid control over as many resources as she could.
So, when her Mother made a show of consulting her wishes and asked in which department she wanted to start her internship, she lowered her gaze, hiding the flash of cunning in her eyes, and purposefully chose the seemingly tedious but actually critical Human Resources Department with a humble and eager tone.
She knew very well that the Human Resources Department was not only the best place to learn about the functions and operations of all the company’s departments, but—more importantly—it wielded invisible, yet immense power—
Power to quietly insert trusted aides, cultivate influence, and construct a network of her own connections.
This would be her first step towards the center of power, and to setting her own pieces on the board.
Very soon, things went just as Chinatsu Ayase had hoped.
With her Mother’s backing and her own “intelligence and good behavior,” she entered the Human Resources Department smoothly, and quickly earned the opportunity to be an Interview Officer, soon to preside over an important mid-level management interview for the company.
Sitting in the spacious, sunlit office, she gazed at the thick stack of Candidate Resumes in her hand, the corners of her lips curling into an almost imperceptible, icy smile.
The game had already begun……