I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2829 - 1755: Legacy (First Update)

"Breaking news from our station, the police department has just concluded the press conference on the assassination of Prince Wataru Tetsuya. It is reported that the murderer has confessed to the assassination of Prince Wataru Tetsuya, and the case has been basically clarified. The evidence is sufficient and comprehensive. The police department has handed over the suspect to the prosecutor’s office, and a private trial will be held soon. The Princess did not attend this press conference..."

A Chinese restaurant on a street in Tokyo.

After hearing the news broadcast on TV, there was no great commotion in the shop.

The much talked about assassination of the Prince seems finally to be coming to a conclusion.

A month has passed since the incident, and after so much effort, one would have thought some shocking news would be uncovered, but in the end, there was nothing surprising.

The speech of the Prince at Yasukuni God Toilet before his death was recorded and revered as the bible by many right-wing elements, with Prince Wataru Tetsuya’s imaginative spirit hailed as a national hero, an eternally uncorrupted giant!

But.

It seems there were no right-wing or extremist elements in this restaurant.

There weren’t even many Japanese.

After all, this is an authentic Chinese restaurant.

So, the calm reaction was quite normal.

As for the Prince who was clamoring for the Great Japanese Empire’s great revival at the doors of the God Toilet, the restaurant’s patrons could not empathize, but they expressed sympathy, and even admiration, for the Princess, who was not officially married but now a widow!

That’s right.

Admiration.

It has nothing to do with her being the co-chair of the bilateral development committee, being friendly to Shen Zhou, or being friendly to Chinese living in Japan.

Imagine, in this era where dying for love has become an old legend, a woman born from a prestigious family, talented, of high status, and reportedly beautiful, actually sacrificing her infinitely promising later years for a dead man.

For the so-called honor of the Princess?

Oh.

Come on.

The Japanese Imperial Family is not like the feudal royal families of Shen Zhou from the past, it has long since fallen from the altar, moreover, her own achievements are so remarkable.

Is it for the posthumous child in the belly?

With today’s advanced medicine, it could have been quietly terminated, and even the Japanese Royal Family would not have the confidence to comment.

So.

In the restaurant, there was no discussion about the impending closure of the Prince’s death case, but there were a few sighs for the "Princess" whose true face was never seen due to class differences.

Look.

It has nothing to do with nationality.

Nothing to do with ethnicity.

Nothing to do with gender.

Not even anything to do with hatred.

Human beings will always submit to noble qualities.

Amongst the crowd of black hair and yellow skin, a strikingly handsome white man stood out, his dazzling blonde hair unique, his features like carefully sculpted art, exuding a noble temperament born from a deep foundation.

Tokyo is an international metropolis, where world cultures exchange and clash, so seeing a white person is hardly surprising.

After finishing a bowl of Shen Zhou’s wonton, he pulled out a napkin, slowly wiped his mouth, then got up, and under the gaze that seemed to say "damn, how can a person be this handsome," he walked out of the Chinese restaurant and got into a cyber pickup parked by the roadside.

No need for a driver.

No need for him to operate it himself.

Entering the address, the cyber pickup began to drive automatically, even recognizing the destination as the Mold Base didn’t cause the system to lag at all.

Still not advanced enough.

A military base is a forbidden place, off-limits to ordinary people, a truth universally acknowledged, and in Japan, the Mold Base holds supreme authority, its status even higher than the Imperial Palace. After all, even to sweep grave and honor ancestors, Japanese must report to the Mold Base for permission, or they can only mourn from outside the barbed wire.

So this smart driving system is pretty unreliable, it should recognize it as an unreachable destination.

The white man, as if with hair dyed by the sun, indeed made no operations throughout the journey, comfortably leaned back in the seat, seemingly so full from a substantial bowl of wonton that he lazily yawned.

The Mold Base encircles the ancestral graves of the Japanese.

Outside the barbed wire.

Many Japanese preparing to honor their ancestors were lining up methodically.

At this moment.

A cyber pickup swaggered over, passing by without any intention of slowing down, and the armed and mightily equipped guards of Mold Base stepped aside obediently.

The cyber pickup drove straight through, unimpeded, disappearing from the sight of the long queue of Japanese in no time.

Japan possibly has more than one cemetery.

For example, Yasukuni God Toilet.

Isn’t it also a place to enshrine spirits?

But God Toilet has thresholds, not every monster or demon has the qualifications to stay there.

In front of the cemetery entrance.

This road is truly blocked.

The cyber pickup, with no human intervention throughout, stopped, and the blonde handsome man who had been resting his eyes felt he had reached the destination, so he opened his eyes, turned his neck, stretched his muscles, refreshed his spirits, and unhurriedly pushed the door open to get off.

He is authentically white, judging by his looks, he probably belongs to the whitest of whites, so here, he likely doesn’t have any ancestors.

Since it’s not a ritual, naturally there’s no need to bring any flowers.

Under the warm winter sun, he empty-handed, with a charming smile, leisurely walked into the Japanese cemetery protected by the Mold Base.

The lake is clear, shimmering, only the reeds mostly withered, if it were spring or summer, the scenery here would surely be more beautiful.

Combing his wind-blown golden hair, the young white man, truly ’handsome as can be’, came to a ’peace amidst the hustle’ tomb, the tombstone was newly colored, seemingly just erected recently, with no grandiose titles engraved on it, only a few simple words.

The Tomb of My Late Husband Wataru Tetsuya.

Perhaps.

The Japanese Royal Family is also moved by this Princess’s steadfastness.

Meanwhile.

These few words also bind the status of this widow Princess with this new grave, unbreakably.

"Sigh~"

Upon arrival, the uninvited handsome white man gently sighed, as if to express his emotions through it.

In front of the tomb.

A woman in a black dress stood quietly beside it, black mesh draped down from the brim of her chiffon hat, obscuring her face, her silk long gloves covered her forearms, her hands folded, placed on her belly, visibly slightly rounded to the naked eye.

Is this a... pregnant woman?

Pregnant women aren’t supposed to come to cemeteries!

But with different cultures, customs vary.

Perhaps some people simply aren’t afraid of ghosts and gods~

"Sigh..."

Seeing no one paying attention to him, the uninvited handsome white man sighed again, this time more emphatically.

Look.

Not all women are starstruck.

"You are here."

The introspective pregnant woman seemed finally to return to her senses, realizing someone was beside her, turning around, and slightly nodding.

The blonde handsome man looked satisfied, not minding the unseen face hidden under the hat brim mesh, his gaze moving down to her rounded belly.

"The Princess is not only a model for Japanese women but can be considered a model for women worldwide."

"You flatter me. Tetsuya died young, martyred for the country, and as his wife, Li Ji only did what a wife should do."

The handsome white man whose hair color was purer than the sun nodded, turning his head to gaze at the Japanese Prince lying in the cold concrete.

His mouth curled up, with a playful arc.

"Excellent genes indeed should be passed on."