Netori: I Shall Steal All Of My Enemies' Women For Revenge!

Arataki sprinted toward the parking lot, his footsteps heavy and unsteady. Haruto followed close behind, his longer strides allowing him to catch up quickly.

He grabbed Arataki's shoulder, his grip firm but not harsh.

"Where do you think you're going?" Haruto asked, his voice low with concern.

"Let go of me," Arataki muttered through clenched teeth, shaking Haruto's hand off.

His body trembled, and before Haruto could say anything more, Arataki broke free and bolted toward the large tree at the edge of the lot.

Haruto slowed his pace, watching as Arataki collapsed against the tree and vomited, his body heaving with each retch. Haruto's heart twisted with pity.

It wasn't like he didn't feel the same rage — the urge to hunt Ren down, drag him to a dark room, and make him suffer.

Haruto had fantasized about it ever since he saw the video. Torturing Ren seemed like the only justice that made sense. But rage without control would only make things worse.

So he stood back, letting Arataki crumble beneath the weight of his emotions, hoping his friend would find some way to hold on.

Arataki pressed his forehead to the rough bark of the tree, his fingers digging into it like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

His sobs came quietly at first, ragged breaths breaking through the silence.

It reminded him of when he was a kid — crouching in the corner of his bedroom, crying into his knees after his father beat him for another bad grade. His father's words still echoed in his mind.

"Why can't you be like your brother?"

"Useless."

"An embarrassment."

Yuto Arataki was a failure.

But there was always one person who never called him that.

Erika.

His sister would sit beside him, rubbing his back in silence. She never said anything, never scolded him for crying. She'd just stay there, offering her quiet comfort.

Later, she'd sneak him soup when their mother starved him so he could study better as a full stomach made him sleepy, slipping bowls through the crack in the door with a small smile.

She'd spend hours writing notes for his tests, decorating the pages with cat stickers because she knew he loved them.

Arataki pressed his hand to his face, tears streaming through his fingers. He couldn't stop them, no matter how hard he tried.

He'd failed her.

He hadn't noticed her suffering back then. When their father destroyed her paintings when he ripped apart the only thing Erika loved,

Arataki hadn't seen how deeply it hurt her. He'd thought she was fine — that she'd found a way to cope, just like she always did.

But he was wrong.

Erika had been drowning in silence, hiding her pain behind a smile. And he never saw it. He never saw her breaking.

Even now, after all he'd done — joining gangs, cutting deals, providing headquarters and protection — it still wasn't enough to save her.

He thought he was helping, but Erika was still trapped, still suffering at the hands of an abusive monster.

He'd failed her again. As a brother. As a human being.

The guilt crushed him, making him feel small. Broken.

"Sister… what should I do?" he whispered, his voice cracking like a child's. His tears kept falling, dripping onto the earth below. "What can I do?"

A hand rested gently on his back.

Arataki flinched, his tear-filled eyes darting up. Haruto knelt beside him, his expression calm but understanding.

He didn't say anything, just rubbed slow circles on Arataki's back, the way Erika used to.

Arataki's shoulders shook, but he didn't pull away. The two of them stayed there, squatting in silence under the tree, as the storm within Arataki slowly began to quiet.

They didn't need words.

Haruto was there. And for now, that was enough.

After a while, Arataki finally wiped his tears with the back of his hand, sniffling as his breathing steadied. His eyes, once clouded with grief, now carried a steely resolve.

He stood up, pulling a slightly crumpled cigarette from his pocket. With a flick of his lighter, the small flame danced before he brought it to the tip.

He sucked in slowly, holding the smoke in his lungs before releasing it in a heavy exhale.

"I will kill that bastard, sooner or later," Arataki said suddenly, his voice low but firm.

The smoke curled from his lips as he dragged the cigarette again, eyes focused on nothing in particular.

"I will be the one to hit the last blow."

Haruto folded his arms, leaning against the wall with a sigh. "It's fine by me, but you know that—"

"I know," Arataki cut him off, glancing sideways with a hardened expression.

"Let's find a way to get him without Daiki or our seniors daring to interfere with us."

Haruto raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Aren't we already on that path?"

Arataki exhaled another plume of smoke, the glowing ember of his cigarette briefly illuminating his hardened features. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it.

"We've only seen the tip of the iceberg. We need to go deeper. We need to be part of him—or plant someone inside."

Haruto studied him for a moment. There was something off about Arataki. His usual fiery temperament had vanished, replaced by something colder, more calculated.

"You've changed," Haruto muttered under his breath.

Arataki ignored the comment, his mind already racing ahead. "Even the police might be involved in this. So, we'll find a way to destroy his entire porn kingdom from the inside."

Haruto nodded. "I see. Let's get back and discuss it with Enji and Old Futto."

The two of them walked through the dim streets in silence, their footsteps echoing faintly.

As they entered Old Futto's cramped apartment—a mess of ramen cups, cables, and scattered papers—they found Enji and Old Futto in the middle of eating instant noodles.

"Come, join us," Old Futto said with a grin, raising his cup of ramen. "I found something interesting in the video."

Arataki and Haruto exchanged a glance before stepping closer. Arataki grabbed a cup and peeled back the lid, letting the steam rise into his face before slurping a mouthful of noodles.

Old Futto turned his laptop around, showing two paused video frames side by side. "Look—it's the same room."

He tapped the screen, pointing to a red-walled room with an unmistakable bed and decor. "This must be where he shoots all his videos."

"And?" Arataki said between slurps, barely pausing. "Why's that important?"

Enji, who was leaning over the table, wiped his mouth with a napkin. "It means it's likely his main base of operations."

"The auctions, the livestreams, the... darker stuff. It all happens there. That room could be the heart of his empire—a maze of terror."

Your next read is at empire

Haruto leaned over, his eyes narrowing at the screen. "So, what? You're saying we need to find this place and sneak in?"

Enji shrugged. "Could be one way. But risky as hell."

Arataki finished his ramen and set the empty cup aside, wiping his hands on his jeans. "No. It's better if we plant someone inside. We need solid evidence before we make any moves."

"I agree," Haruto said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Yeah, I'm with you," Enji added, nodding along.

Old Futto, however, shook his head vigorously. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up!" He raised his hands in protest.

"You know my stomach's too weak for that kind of thing. I'm out! No way I'm going undercover."

Haruto smirked. "Don't worry. It wouldn't work anyway. Ren would see through you in seconds."

Old Futto relaxed, chuckling nervously. "Yeah, exactly. Not my scene."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Why not you, Haruto? From the three of us, you know and interact with Ren the most."

Haruto sighed. "The problem is, Ren and I have a history. And by history, I mean we try to kill each other every time we meet."

"Why don't you ask Daiki, then?" Enji suggested, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Aren't you two friends?"

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Haruto, who clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Fine," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll try. But if that doesn't work, we're still putting a mole in."

Enji's grin widened. "Ohh, I see that look in your eyes. You've got a plan, don't you?"

Haruto nodded, his expression darkening. "Yeah. But it's tricky. The person I'm thinking of... she's close to Ren. If she turns on me, we're screwed."

Arataki squinted suspiciously. "Wait. It's not my sister, is it?"

Haruto shot him a sharp glare. "Of course not. I promised Erika I wouldn't tell you that she is still with Ren, and I intend to keep that promise. So, don't ever bring this up to Erika, alright?"

He looked at Arataki while his friend grunted in response, though his gaze remained skeptical.

Haruto exhaled slowly. "It's someone else. But she's... hard to figure out. She's like a damn labyrinth. I can't read her at all."

Enji tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Tricky, huh? What do you guys think?" He looked between Old Futto and Arataki.

Arataki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's worth the shot. Do whatever it takes to make sure Ren is in our hands."

Old Futto crossed his arms and made an X with his hands. "Don't look at me. I'm too dumb for this kind of scheming."

Haruto chuckled. "Noted. I'll meet and talk to her and see if she can help. If she agrees, we might finally have a way to bring Ren down."