Once alone, Arataki leaned in with a serious expression. "That girl... isn't she Yamada's sister?"
Haruto's eyes widened, but he didn't answer right away. The crowd was still cheering, their voices muffled but persistent since they were outside the black box.
Despite the noise, Arataki's words hung in the air, clear and heavy.
Haruto glanced to the side, buying himself a moment. He hadn't told his gang about Daiki—about how they'd somehow ended up as 'friends.' But he knew he couldn't lie anymore.
He let out a quiet breath and nodded. "Yeah. She is."
Arataki's jaw tightened, and the warmth in his eyes dimmed. "Huh, don't you want to kill that bastard?" he said, his voice low but sharp.
"How the hell do you date his sister like it's nothing?"
Haruto stayed calm, "This is part of my revenge," he said firmly.
"I need to get closer to him. Learn everything. That's the only way I can ruin him for good."
For a moment, Arataki didn't say anything. He just stared, his hand curling into a fist. Then his voice came, quiet but furious.
"So, you're friends with that bastard Ren now, too?"
Haruto let out a short, humorless laugh. "Not even close. The guy hates me, and that's mutual," he said, his lips twitching into a smirk.
"But don't worry, I have another plan for him."
"With what? Stealing his girlfriend?" Arataki scoffed, leaning forward.
"Do you even know how many women he has? You think taking one will bother him?"
Haruto frowned, tilting his head slightly. "Do you know how many he's got?"
Arataki's gaze darkened. He hesitated for a split second before speaking.
"I don't know the exact number, but it's a lot. He's got videos on all of them—blackmail. That's how he controls them." His voice hardened.
"Taking one won't make a difference."
Haruto rubbed the back of his neck, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
"It'd still piss him off," he muttered. "It's about his ego being crushed."
"Maybe," Arataki admitted, though his tone was skeptical. "But it's not enough to bring him down."
Haruto sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He hated to admit it, but Arataki was probably right.
"Stop spouting nonsense, Enji."
Haruto's voice cut through the room as he stepped inside with Arataki, his expression one of mild annoyance.
"I wasn't that bad." He moved to sit beside Akane, offering her a reassuring smile.
"Not that bad? You were so gloomy even crows wouldn't hang around you," Arataki quipped, bursting into laughter.
"Don't believe a word he says," Haruto countered, glancing at Akane and Erika with a playful smirk.
"I've always been handsome. No surgery needed."
"That's what confuses me," Enji scratched his head in bewilderment. "How'd you change so much without surgery?"
"Well," Haruto leaned back with a laugh, "that's a man's secret."
The group continued chatting, the tension in the room melting away as laughter and teasing filled the air.
Akane found herself smiling more, her earlier discomfort forgotten.
She now knows that Haruto's friends weren't bad at all even when they looked like gangsters with tattoos and piercings.
A voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, calling Haruto's name to the ring.
Haruto stood, brushing off his jacket. "Time for me to show you how cool I am." He turned to Akane, his grin confident.
"Make sure you watch carefully, alright?"
Akane nodded, excitement bubbling in her chest.
"Of course I do! Do your best, Haruto! If you lose you owe me ramen!"
As Haruto made his way out, the crowd erupted into cheers, chanting his name as if he were a superstar stepping into the spotlight.
Well, it wasn't far from the truth—Haruto would do anything to achieve that status since Akane was there.
More importantly, tonight's performance was bound to boost Akane's Deprivation Matrix.
He was certain this time the emotional bond and obsession metrics would surge.
As he observed Akane's reactions, a pattern he'd noticed before resurfaced. The younger his target, the easier it was to deepen their emotional bond and stir an obsession.
It was a stark contrast to older targets, where progress required significantly more effort and subtlety.
'But that doesn't matter now. Focus,'
he thought, shaking off the distractions as he stepped into the ring.