I Suddenly Became Rich, But I Have No Idea How to Spend the Money

“Alright, here we are. Osaka Yomiuri Country Club.”

“Who are you even talking to, Akira-kun?”

“Wow, this course is beautiful!”

That was me, Hitomi, and Mr. Blackbetter from the top.

Since Mr. Blackbetter had expressed interest in visiting Japan, I invited him along.

By the way, during the actual tournament, he’s going to be my caddie.

Technically, the venue provides caddies, but apparently, a little conversation was all it took to make an exception.

“Well, if a former world-class player pulls some strings at an amateur tournament, no one’s going to say no…” I thought to myself.

And so, the four of us gathered and teed off in the morning.

For the record, both Hitomi and Emma play golf.

They’ve both been playing since they were kids, and when Hitomi heard that I’d be receiving coaching from Mr. Blackbetter, she was more excited than I was.

Playing under the same conditions as the men, Hitomi’s best score is 87, while Emma’s is 82.

Scores vary depending on the course, but the standard is generally 72. The goal is to get as close to that number as possible. Professionals shoot under 72.

For an amateur, breaking 100 means you’re decent.

That 100-mark is the hardest barrier—most people give up there.

Breaking 90 means you’re quite skilled.

Breaking 80 makes you a locally renowned golfer.

As for me, my best score is 80, which I achieved in Macau.

Today, for some reason, I was in incredible form. My drives were flying, my putts weren’t missing, and I finished the front nine with a score of 33. Naturally, that was my personal best for nine holes.

“Kirishima-san, your score is incredible! You’re playing like a pro!”

Mr. Blackbetter didn’t hold back on the praise.

“I never thought I could pull off a score like this myself…”

“I’m surprised at my own score too. Just a bit of serious coaching makes navigating the course so much easier! I might actually break into the 70s today!”

Hitomi, also receiving guidance from Mr. Blackbetter, was in top form. She finished the front nine with her best score of 39 and was thrilled.

In the back nine, I faltered slightly, but I still managed to shoot 36, finishing the round with a total score of 69.

That’s three strokes below the standard 72, meaning I shot three under par (-3).

Am I… a pro?

For reference, Mr. Blackbetter finished with 67, Emma with 73, and Hitomi with 79.

Mr. Blackbetter’s score was to be expected, but Emma was truly impressive. Her driving distance was on par with the men, and her precise putting, characteristic of female players, was sharp as ever.

When I submitted our scorecards to the club, they asked if I was a professional.

But that’s a story for another time.

After finishing our round, we showered and regrouped at the entrance. We got into the Lexus LX we had arrived in and headed to the hotel.

Since we had a guest this time, Emma took care of booking the accommodations.

We would be staying at Hotel La Suite Kobe Harborland.

Given the tournament’s location, a hotel in Kobe was the best choice.

Emma managed the room assignments based on availability, ensuring everything was well-organized.

Since we were in Kobe, I really wanted everyone to try Kobe beef.

With that thought in mind, I drove for about 40 minutes to the hotel.

Upon arrival, the doorman greeted us warmly, and check-in was exceptionally smooth.

Experiencing Japanese hospitality up close seemed to make an impression on Emma.

Since Mr. Blackbetter would be staying for a decent amount of time, he had shipped his larger luggage separately.

We each went to our rooms to check on our delivered luggage and place our belongings before reconvening in the lobby.

As we discussed dinner plans, I insisted we try Kobe beef, something I had been eager to introduce them to.

“I’ve always wanted to try authentic Kobe beef!”

“I’m really looking forward to it too!”

The two foreigners were practically bursting with excitement, and Hitomi and I were determined to give them the best experience possible.

The four of us arrived at a place called Setsugetsuka, a name that radiated an air of luxury.

Since Kobe is Hitomi’s hometown, her father had arranged a special reservation for us.

Her father wanted to join us but, unfortunately, couldn’t due to work commitments.

He had really wanted to talk about golf with us and was disappointed until the last minute.

There was one more thing her father had said.

According to Hitomi:

“Next time, let’s have a good, long talk, Kirishima. Just the two of us.”

Hearing this while driving, my hands trembled so much I nearly caused an accident.

At Setsugetsuka, we indulged in the finest Kobe beef.

Emma and Mr. Blackbetter were in awe, saying they might never be able to eat other beef again.

The bill for the four of us came to 250,000 yen.

Emma and Mr. Blackbetter sure enjoyed their wine.

When I reached for my wallet to pay, the staff informed me that the bill had already been settled.

I glanced at Hitomi, and she simply said, “It was my father.”

It didn’t feel right to accept such generosity without showing gratitude.

So, I asked Hitomi for her father’s contact information and called him immediately.

“This is Kirishima. Thank you so much for treating us to such a wonderful meal.

Would it be alright if I came by to properly express my gratitude?”

I steadied my voice, suppressing my nerves as I waited for his response.

“Oh, so you’re Kirishima! My daughter speaks highly of you.”

His unexpectedly cheerful tone put me at ease.

“You’re young, so just accept the kindness of your elders when it’s offered.

Besides, being able to say I treated the great Mr. Blackbetter to a meal is a great conversation starter.”

“Thank you for your generosity. I truly appreciate it.”

But that kindness only lasted for a moment.

“By the way, Kirishima-kun.

There’s something important I need to discuss with you.

Come to my house soon.

And don’t bring Hitomi. Come alone.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“Let’s have a nice, long, man-to-man talk.

Alright, Kirishima-kun?

Hitomi will arrange the date with you. Enjoy your evening.”

With that, he hung up.

The sudden shift in his tone made my face go pale. My hands trembled, and I almost dropped my phone.

Luckily, the screen didn’t crack, but I was left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

My buzz vanished in an instant.

Since I had been drinking, we hired a driver service to take us back to the hotel.

Back in my room, I told Hitomi what her father had said.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a laugh. “He just likes to act intimidating.”

“No, that was terrifying over the phone. I nearly lost control of my bladder.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Of course! The tournament is just days away!”

When Hitomi said that, it somehow convinced me.

“Still, I’m feeling nervous about my first tournament…”

“What are you talking about? You’ve wagered billions at casinos! Just stay composed and play your game—you won’t lose.”

“Thanks, Hitomi.”

That night, the two of us became one.