Troubles of osakawa

A girl with red hair and eyes that could melt ice is chatting with her manager. This dazzling model works for Japan's Model Gold Company. She’s lounging on a sofa near a window, surrounded by her own posters flaunting jewelry and trendy outfits.

Outside, a very serious-looking person is on the phone, trying to figure out how to use a sniper rifle.

The client asks, “Do you see the girl with the red hair?” The client then provides a detailed description of the target.

The assassin, clearly over-caffeinated, fumbles with the sniper rifle, eventually managing to pull the trigger. The bullet zooms through the air, and in a dramatic fashion, hits its mark, making a mess of the girl’s perfect hairstyle.

The manager, now in full-blown panic mode, starts dialing for help, as if doing so could fix the situation. The whole place erupts into chaos, looking like a fashion show gone terribly wrong.

The client, barely managing to contain his frustration, yells, “You were supposed to protect that girl! She’s my daughter!”

Our protagonist, with his own fashion statement of blonde hair and blue eyes, now looking like a groom
Who has seen his ugly bride. mutters, “Great, not again. I’ve gone and killed the wrong person. The old man is going to have my head.”

He mumbles to himself, “My name is OsaKawa. I’m the son of the director of... Golden killing assassination
Osakawa was sprinting like his life depended on it—because it did. If the client told his dad about the mess, his dad would be livid enough to make Osakawa’s bad luck look like a blessing. In his blind panic, he flung his sniper rifle away. Naturally, the rifle landed with a flourish, firing a bullet that punctured a truck tire. The truck driver, now auditioning for a stunt double, leaped out just in time as the truck skidded out of control and crashed spectacularly into a petrol pump. The ensuing explosion was so massive that it seemed like a Hollywood set piece gone wrong. The crowd stared in shock, and all eyes turned to Osakawa. "This is his curse," they muttered. "Wherever he goes, trouble follows!"

Seeking refuge, Osakawa jumped into a taxi and told the driver to head to his older sister’s house. When he arrived, he was greeted by his sister, who was busy cooking up a storm, while her boyfriend sat blissfully unaware, engrossed in a book. Osakawa burst through the door like a hurricane, his sister looking at him in bewilderment. “Why the rush?” she asked. At that exact moment, she stepped on a banana peel, which, in a dramatic twist worthy of a slapstick comedy, sent a pen flying from her hand. The pen sailed through the air and struck her boyfriend square in the face, sending him crashing into the soup pot with a resounding splash. Osakawa looked around at the chaos, and with a sigh, muttered, “I really should’ve stayed home.”Osakawa was blabbering to his sister about his impending doom. She looked at him and said, "By now, you should be dead. Dad's coming over, and you better not be here." Osakawa’s face turned white faster than a ghost in a snowstorm as he tried to bolt.

His sister, quick on her feet, tied him to a chair and told him to sit tight. Just as Dad burst through the door with a Katana, declaring, "This bread’s going to be toasted by my hands!" Osakawa’s sister's boyfriend, in a moment of panic and heroism, transformed into a wrestling champion. He charged, body-slammed Dad with the ferocity of a solar eclipse, and yelled, "Tag team with the almighty wrestling moves to save the day!"

In the chaos, Dad’s sword flew out of his hand, and Osakawa was left wondering if he was saved by wrestling moves or just the sheer absurdity of the situation.
The father-in-law declared, "I’ll deal with you later," and the boyfriend nervously responded, "Sorry, I didn’t sign up for the WWE today!" When the father locked eyes with Osakawa, he tried to make a break for it, but Dad grabbed him like a pro wrestler. The sister, overwhelmed by the chaos, shouted, "Enough! My apartment looks like a tornado hit a circus! Take this drama outside." The father, trying to ease the tension, said, "Sorry, sweetie, but I don’t want to add more drama to our bread-and-butter issues. Let’s sort this out like adults." With that, the father and son headed outside to settle their scores.
"Dad, do you want to play basketball or baseball?" Dad playfully tapped him on the head with a grin, and they strolled toward the park, leaving the house with the grace of a couple of klutzy penguins.

As they walked, Dad said, “You need to be more serious about this company thing. After I’m gone, you’re the big cheese. Your sister doesn’t want it; she thinks you’ll be better at not blowing it up. After Mom’s death, your elder sister was practically a second mother to you. So, you owe it to her to be a decent sibling.”

Just then, Yashinoba, who had silver hair and eyes that sparkled like someone had sprinkled glitter in them, appeared with a six-pack of beer. At 5'10", he looked like he was trying out for the role of "Mysterious Stranger in an Indie Film."

“I’m really sorry, Father, for the commotion,” Yashinoba said, setting down the beers with the solemnity of someone presenting the Holy Grail.

Dad and the son clinked their beer cans together, like a pair of clumsy knights about to embark on a quest. "To the company!" they toasted, as if it were a mystical treasure instead of a future responsibility.

And with that, they all agreed that a few beers were the perfect way to celebrate their impending corporate reign—and call it a night