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

Haruto pressed the key fob, and the black car let out a soft 'beep' as its lights flickered on. He opened the back door and carefully placed the black bag on the floor, tucking it out of sight before shutting the door with a quiet thud.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he inserted the key and twisted it, the car roaring to life. He quickly buckled his seatbelt, his hand moving to the gearstick, ready to drive off.

But just as his foot hovered over the pedal, the passenger door swung open.

Enji slid into the seat beside him.

Haruto frowned, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

"What?" Enji shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. "I can't tag along? I am the leader of the gang, after all."

His tone was light, but there was an edge to it as he leaned back, making himself comfortable.

"Fine," Haruto muttered, exhaling sharply. "Just put on your seatbelt."

Enji scoffed. "Who are you, my mom? We're running drugs, and you're worried about seatbelts?"

Haruto rolled his eyes, gripping the gearstick tightly. "Exactly. Since we're doing something illegal, we need to look as normal as possible."

Enji let out a sarcastic chuckle but said nothing more, leaving Haruto to focus on the road.

The silence between them thickened as the car hummed along the dimly lit streets, the glow of passing headlights flickering across the windshield.

Outside, the road grew emptier, the city thinning into a quiet, secluded stretch.

Haruto's grip on the wheel tightened. Something about the stillness unnerved him.

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He glanced at Enji, who sat quietly, staring out

the window, lost in thought. He hated this sarcastic and serious side of Enji. Honestly, his friend was supposed to be goofy and fun

Breaking the silence, Haruto asked, "So, are you sure you're the leader? Nakamura and Kikuchi seem like they outrank you."

He steered the car onto a narrower road, his eyes briefly flicking toward Enji, curious about his reaction.

Enji remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed ahead as if choosing his words carefully. "They're… not part of the group anymore," he finally said, his voice low.

Haruto turned his head slightly, trying to gauge his friend's expression. "What do you mean, 'not part of the group'?"

Before Enji could respond, Haruto's attention snapped to the road ahead. Two police officers stood beside their car, waving them down for inspection.

Haruto's heart skipped a beat. He didn't have a driver's license, and worse, the drugs were sitting right in the back.

His breath caught in his throat. He glanced at Enji, who stayed silent, his face unreadable.

Haruto's fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel as possibilities raced through his mind.

He clenched his jaw, then made a decision. Without a word, he shifted gears and slammed his foot on the gas.

The car lurched forward, the engine roaring as Haruto floored the gas pedal. The speedometer shot up rapidly, the needle inching dangerously close to 180 km/h.

The flashing police lights in the distance slowly shrank in the rearview mirror, but Haruto couldn't relax just yet.

"Enji…" Haruto's voice was tense, his eyes flicking between the road and the speedometer. "If we hit more than 180 km/h, will this car shut off?"

He spoke in a low, urgent tone, almost as if whispering the words might keep them from crashing.

In Japan, most car speedometers limit it to 180 km/h. Some of them had most, but the car would die down instantly.

"Why don't you give it a try?" Enji replied, his voice infuriatingly calm despite the situation.

Haruto shot him a sharp glare, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Are you serious right now? You want us to go to jail? I haven't even met Daiki yet!"

His tone grew harsher, panic creeping in. He didn't need this right now—not when his whole plan for revenge was hanging by a thread.

Enji chuckled, unbothered by the speed or the looming threat of arrest. "Relax, the car's modified. It won't cut out."

He leaned back, crossing his arms as if they weren't currently being chased by the police.

Haruto exhaled a deep breath, relief washing over him. "Modified, huh? Could've mentioned that earlier," he muttered under his breath.

His heart was still racing, but knowing they wouldn't suddenly stall gave him a sliver of confidence. Now, his only focus was putting as much distance between them and the cops as possible.

He pressed harder on the pedal, pushing the car to its limits as they tore through the empty streets.

His mind worked fast—he had to create enough of a gap to lose the police completely.

Then, they could hide out somewhere in the city's most isolated corner, waiting for the heat to die down. Once the coast was clear, they could head to the delivery point.

"Just a little more," Haruto whispered to himself, his eyes darting from the road ahead to the rearview mirror, where the flashing lights grew fainter and fainter.

He spared a quick glance in the rearview mirror—the flashing blue lights of the police cars were still there, but barely visible now.

"They're still back there," Haruto muttered, eyes flicking between the road and the distant lights. "Not much longer though."

"They won't catch up," Enji said confidently, his calm demeanor as irritating as ever. He glanced behind them, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Just keep going."

Haruto spotted an upcoming intersection, a narrow road leading off to a more deserted part of the city.

He quickly turned the wheel, sending the car skidding onto the side street, tires screeching as they barely made the sharp turn.

The alleyway was lined with dilapidated warehouses and scattered debris, providing some much-needed cover.

The police cars missed the turn, speeding straight past. For a moment, all Haruto could hear was the engine and his own ragged breathing.

The flashing lights had disappeared, and they were alone again, surrounded by the eerie quiet of the abandoned industrial district.

"They're gone," Haruto said, exhaling in relief as he eased off the pedal, the car slowing down. "I think we lost them."

Enji leaned forward, looking out the window as the darkness swallowed the road behind them. "Good. Now head to the drop point. No more surprises."

Haruto nodded, still on edge, but the tension began to ease from his shoulders. He kept the car at a steady pace now, navigating through the forgotten streets.

They were close, and after everything, Haruto just wanted to get this over with.

As the police lights faded completely into the distance, the looming warehouse where the drop would take place came into view.

Haruto stopped as he turned off the car, stepping out and grabbing the bag. But as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder, he noticed Enji still sitting inside, not making a move.

"You're not coming with me?" Haruto asked, his brow furrowed.

Enji didn't look at him. "No, you need to go by yourself," he answered, his tone nonchalant, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Haruto stood there for a moment, staring at him, trying to read something—anything—in his friend's expression.

There was nothing. Enji's body language was neutral, giving away no hints. No tension, no concern. Just stillness.

With a frustrated sigh, Haruto turned back toward the door, about to slam it shut. But then Enji's voice cut through the silence.

"Haruto, hold your emotions. Whatever you see inside, don't do anything."