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

Haruto scrubbed his face under the cold tap, the water running red as it washed away the blood caked on his skin.

He exhaled sharply, gripping the edges of the rusted sink as his reflection stared back at him—disheveled, bloodstained, and exhausted.@@novelbin@@

His knuckles were raw and bruised from the beating he gave that bastard back in the room, and his body ached from the fight on the stairs.

He splashed more water over his face, rubbing away the remnants of dried sweat and grime.

The stench of smoke and blood still clung to him, but at least he looked somewhat presentable now.

They had managed to escape, at least for now. But with all the chaos they had caused, there was no doubt Ren's men would be hunting them down. The entire operation had turned into a disaster.

Haruto exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "This was supposed to be a fast and stealth job. Get in, steal the data, and leave without anyone noticing."

His fingers curled into a fist. "That woman is a real pain… and rude as hell."

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the sink, letting the cool porcelain press against his back. Something felt off.

His earpiece had been silent for too long. Old Futto, Arataki, and Enji—none of them had spoken since the chaos started.

He reached for the hidden camera clipped under his shirt, but the second he pulled it free, his stomach dropped.

The lens was shattered. He tapped his earpiece, but there was only static.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He yanked the earpiece out and tossed it into the sink.

The connection was dead.

Shaking the water from his hands, he used the hem of his already-ruined shirt to dry his face.

Stepping out of the men's restroom, he glanced toward the women's side. Erika was still inside, probably taking her time.

He couldn't blame her. She had just gone through hell.

His gaze then flicked toward the woman leaning against her car, still puffing on her cigarette like she had all the time in the world.

Her expression remained unreadable, eyes half-lidded as she watched the smoke curl into the night air.

Haruto walked up to her, running a hand through his damp hair.

"You should wash up too," he said, noting the streaks of dried blood on her arms and the dark smudges on her clothes.

The woman exhaled another puff of smoke and gave him a sideways glance. "I don't have time to babysit myself."

Haruto scoffed. "Yeah, but you had time to lecture me about ruining your precious 'Vicenzo.'" He gestured to the sleek black vehicle.

The woman smirked, tapping the ash off her cigarette. "That's different. My car didn't choose to get dirty."

Haruto clicked his tongue, deciding not to argue further. Instead, he leaned against the car beside her, arms crossed.

"So, what's your deal?" he asked after a beat of silence. "You're obviously not just some random woman with a grudge against Ren's men."

She took another drag before finally answering. "Let's just say I have my reasons."

Haruto rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no shit. You have a damn arsenal in your trunk. Where'd you even get all that?"

She tilted her head, eyeing him with mild amusement. "The less you know, the better."

Haruto frowned. "You already said that."

"And I meant it."

'Tch. This woman was as frustrating as she was terrifying.'

Before he could press further, the restroom door creaked open, and Erika stepped out, now wearing the oversized clothes the woman had given her.

They were baggy, swallowing her frame, but at least she looked warmer now. She clutched Haruto's jacket tightly around herself, as if afraid to let go of it.

Haruto pushed out of the car and walked over to her. "Feeling better?"

Erika nodded hesitantly, her eyes still wary and distant. "Yeah… thanks."

"Good." He offered her a reassuring smile before turning back to the woman. "Alright, what now?"

She flicked her cigarette onto the ground, crushing it beneath her boot. "Now? We get the hell out of here before Ren's men regroup."

Haruto nodded and opened the car door for Erika before sliding into the passenger seat himself.

As the woman started the engine, Haruto glanced at her once more. There were still too many questions, but one thing was clear—this wasn't over yet.

The safest place Haruto knew was Arataki's mansion, so that's where they headed.

As the car skidded into the parking lot, a heavy tension filled the air. Experience new tales on My Virtual Library Empire

Arataki, Enji, and Old Futto were already waiting, their faces tight with worry.

The moment Haruto stepped out of the car, Arataki rushed toward him, grabbing his collar in desperation.

"Where is my sister? She's fine, right? Nothing happened to her?!" His voice was sharp, frantic.

Haruto met his gaze calmly and pried Arataki's hands off his shirt. "Relax. She's fine. She's in the back." He gestured toward the car.

But Erika didn't move.

She sat curled up in the backseat, gripping Haruto's jacket tightly around herself. Shame kept her frozen in place, unable to face her brother.

Arataki didn't hesitate. He yanked the door open, and the moment their eyes met, Erika broke down.

Tears poured down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Arataki pulled her into a tight embrace, saying nothing, but his own shoulders shook as silent tears fell from his eyes.

Haruto let out a quiet sigh of relief. The mission had been messy, but Erika was safe. The memory cards were intact. That was all that mattered.

Then, the mysterious woman—the one whose name Haruto still didn't know—stepped out of the car, stretching her arms as if she hadn't just massacred an entire gang.

"That was a touching reunion," she said flatly, her eyes cold and unreadable. "But enough of that. I want to see the memory cards."

Before Haruto could answer, Enji pushed past Old Futto, his usual smirk plastered on his face.

"Hold up, you must be the goddess who saved Haruto from all the mess." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes gleaming with interest.

"A woman like you shouldn't have to fight alone. Lucky for you, I'm single."

Haruto groaned. "Seriously, Enji? Now?"

Ignoring him, Enji stepped closer. "So, what do you say? Want to grab a drink after—"

A sharp smack cut through the air. Enji staggered, holding his cheek in shock. The woman had slapped him—hard.

"You don't stand a chance against me, boy," she said coolly, turning away without a second glance.

Enji blinked, then let out a low chuckle. "Ohh, playing hard to get? I like that. Interesting."

Without acknowledging him, the woman grabbed Haruto's backpack from the car, slinging it over her shoulder.

"I'm going inside to check the data," she said, waving them off before striding toward the mansion.

Enji grinned and followed after her. "Feisty. I like it."

Old Futto approached Haruto, shaking his head. "Man, that must've felt like something out of an action movie, huh?"

He let out a low whistle before giving Haruto a playful punch to the chest.

"Damn shame the camera got busted. Would've been one hell of a story to rewatch."

Haruto chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, once was enough."

Meanwhile, Arataki gently led Erika inside, his movements slow and protective, as if silently promising her that no one would ever lay a hand on her again.