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

Haruto climbed into the car, shutting the door behind him with a heavy thud. His eyes fixated on the dashboard, but his thoughts raced, swirling with frustration and confusion.

'What the hell…' he cursed inwardly, gripping the steering wheel as his mind replayed the confrontation with Daiki.

The face he had longed to see, the man he had sworn to destroy, had stood right in front of him—and he did nothing.

His hands trembled, still feeling the rage that coursed through him, but now it was mixed with self-loathing.

'I should have killed him…'

Haruto's plan had always been clear: to steal everything Daiki cherished, to make him suffer the way he had suffered.

But when he was finally face-to-face with him, all that meticulous planning had crumbled.

His emotions had gotten the better of him, and now he felt more helpless than ever.

Jin's words echoed in his mind: "And when they least expect it, I'll stab them in the back and take everything away from them. Then they'll know what it feels like to be dead when they are alive."

'I can't even stand next to him without losing it…'

His grip on the steering wheel tightened before, with sudden desperation, Haruto slammed his forehead against it.

The blaring car horn shattered the silence of the night, but he didn't stop.

He kept banging his head against the wheel, the pain did nothing to quell the storm inside him.

Enji, seated calmly in the passenger seat, raised an eyebrow, his hand lazily holding a cigarette.

He let Haruto continue for a moment before yanking him by the shirt.

"The hell are you doing?!"

Haruto's eyes, wild and bloodshot, met Enji's. "You set me up, didn't you? You knew Daiki would be there, so why would you do that?!"

Enji scoffed, unfazed by his accusation. He took another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Haruto's face.

"And? Aren't you the one who wanted to kill him? Now you're losing your mind just from seeing him?"

"I… I just…" Haruto's voice faltered, unable to find the words to express the rage and shame twisting inside him.

He felt like a fool.

Enji sighed, clearly unimpressed. "How about you just give up? Whatever grudge you have against Daiki, it's not worth it. You're cracking at the seams over nothing."

He flicked ash out the window, his expression bored as he exhaled smoke.

Haruto clenched his fists, his voice low and frustrated. "I can't... Damn it, I need to drown myself in cold water or something."

It was his ritual, a way to soothe himself when the anger became too much to bear.

Enji studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing before he sighed again. "Move over. I'll drive."

Too exhausted to argue, Haruto slumped into the passenger seat, letting Enji take control.

The car roared back to life as they drove in silence, the road back to the resort stretching ahead of them.

***

"Yo, that was pretty quick. The newbie's got some skills, huh?"

Nakamura called out, lounging on the stairs in front of the porch, lazily puffing on something that smelled suspiciously like weed.

"What's your name again?"

Haruto, still walking toward the resort, stopped when he reached him. "My name is Haruto Hayase," he replied, his tone steady as his emotion finally came back to normal.

Nakamura nodded as if storing the name in his memory. "I see. Welcome to the group, Haruto." He smiled a casual but approving gesture.

Haruto returned the nod, as he glare at Enji, realizing that their deal was bullshit and that without even he wins against Enji, he would eventually become part of the gang.

They exchanged small talk for a while. Nakamura explained how Kikuchi had banished him outside because of his love for weed, leaving him to camp out on the porch with a bunch of beer and snacks.

It felt strange, talking so casually after all that happened to him as if nothing happened.

As Nakamura finished off his joint, he stood up, stretching. "Ah, yeah. Since you're new, there's something we gotta do. Piercings and tattoos—it's kind of a thing around here." He tossed the remnants of his smoke to the ground and stomped it out.

"Come on, follow me."

Haruto's gaze shifted to Enji, who only shrugged in response. He wasn't a fan of piercings and wasn't sure how to feel about tattoos either. But this was a gang ritual, a rite of passage.

They walked into one of the rooms inside the resort. In the center stood a sleek tattoo chair, its black leather gleaming under the dim lighting.

The walls were adorned with intricate tattoo designs, showcasing a mix of traditional and modern styles.

Along the far side of the room was a plush sofa and a coffee table strewn with magazines.

"Take off your shirt," Nakamura instructed as he moved to the workstation along the wall, gathering his tattoo tools.

Haruto hesitated, his nerves betraying him, but he slowly removed his shirt and settled into the chair. After all, he was part of the gang now, he needed to do this.

His muscles tensed as he sat down, feeling the weight of the moment.

"What kind of tattoo are you giving me?"

"Haven't Enji told you? It's the gang symbol—the Crow," Nakamura replied, pulling on black rubber gloves with a snap.

Haruto sighed, casting a glance at Enji, who was lounging in the 'waiting' seat, flipping through a magazine, seemingly unbothered by the situation.

He didn't say anything about it at all, it was as if all his 'part-time' in the gang was just a joke before meeting Nakamura and Kikuchi.

"He didn't tell me anything."

Nakamura adjusted the tattoo chair. "It's going on your back," he gestured, indicating for him to lie down.

He complied, though still felt hesitant because that tattoo would be embedded into his skin as long as he lived. It's just like a big commitment.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt much. Feels like an ant bite," Nakamura said casually, as Enji chuckled.

The comment made Haruto frown. It reminded him of something his mother used to say whenever he needed shots at the doctor's office.

However, as the needle touched his skin, he was surprised that the pain was more manageable than he'd expected.

As Nakamura worked, the conversation turned casual. They talked about the gang's symbol, the Crow, which puzzled Haruto. It didn't seem to match the gang's name, Karafuru Pierce.

"The school gang changes names and its personality every time a new leader takes over," Nakamura explained, his voice light as he focused on his work.

"But the tattoos and piercings are constants."

Haruto shot another look at Enji, who grinned, clearly amused by the situation. "That's why Enji joined this gang in the first place, to merge it with his old one."

"He's obsessed with the needle," Nakamura laughed, remembering the past.

"The name might change, but the tattoo remains. Another group knows us as 'The Murder of Crows.'" Nakamura added.

"I am a leader for Karafuru Pierce only. While Murder Of The Crows is led by senior Kikuchi." Enji chimed in.

He nodded, it meant that the 'gang' he knew, the one that only just longing under the bridge was just a cover of something more.

Karafuru Pierce was also inclusive to the high schooler while the Murder of The Crows was added with the one that already graduated and had connections with a bigger gang.

"Does this group have a connection to Yakuza?" Haruto asked, curiosity piqued.

Nakamura hesitated for a moment before responding, "More or less."

He absorbs the information. It made sense. Their operations were far beyond the scope of an ordinary school gang that he knew.

As the needle buzzed on his skin, another thought surfaced. "Why didn't anyone tell me the bag was full of money instead of drugs?" Haruto's voice sharpened with frustration.

He had been paranoid the entire time, only to realize the situation had been something entirely different.

Enji laughed from the corner. "I want to mess with you."

"Also, Money, drugs, guns—it's all the same. If the cops found that bag in your car, it wouldn't matter what was inside. You'd still be going to jail."

Haruto couldn't argue with that. Whether it was drugs or a stash of cash, it all pointed to trouble.

Enji suddenly straightened, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "So, what happened with Daiki in that warehouse? What was all that about?"

Haruto's hand tightened into a fist, the memories flooding back. The rage simmered under his skin.

"He invited me to the Underground Ring this Saturday night."

The room went still. Nakamura stopped the tattoo gun mid-line, his eyes wide with surprise.

The magazine slipped from Enji's hand, hitting the floor with a soft thud as he stood up and walked toward Haruto, his expression serious.

"And what did you say?"

Enji's voice was sharp, carrying a note of concern that hadn't been there before.

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