"You didn't go to a black market auction behind my back as a game , Kenji," she said, placing the synth gently back in his trembling hands. "But I did. And you just lost."
Silence. The gavel hit a wooden crate. "Sold." tsuma ni damatte sokubaikai ni ikun ja nakatta game
Kenji opened his mouth. No sound came.
Kenji's synth clattered to the floor.
At 11:45 PM, he slipped out of their apartment in socks, carrying a worn backpack with 150,000 yen in cash—hidden from a "side gig" he'd never mentioned. The rain masked his footsteps. "You didn't go to a black market auction