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

"Wake up, you bastard!" Ao's voice boomed as he hurled a bucket of icy water over Isamu's slumped body.

The water splashed across his face, jolting him awake, mixing with the blood still trickling from his nose.

Isamu shivered violently, his bare skin exposed to the biting 15°C night air. The cold wind crept through the gaps of the courtyard walls, carrying an unrelenting chill.

"Ahh, the princess is finally awake," Haruto quipped, his voice dripping with mockery.

He leaned casually against a nearby pillar, his shadow stretching ominously in the dim outdoor light.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for you to grace us with your presence?"

"Long enough for us to nab this!" Ao exclaimed, patting a heavy black safe box with a grin.

"Congratulations," Haruto smirked, taking a step closer to their captive.

"Your loan problem might be resolved, but our business isn't quite done yet."

Isamu glared up at Haruto, his defiance still burning bright. "Hah! If you're so tough, untie me! Let's settle this fair and square!"

Haruto chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair and square? Now, why would I do that?" His tone turned icy as he began to pace, hands tucked behind his back.

"When you raped Asuka, was that fair and square? When you forced her to marry you, trapping her in years of misery, was that fair and square?" Haruto's voice dropped to a venomous growl, his steps stopping abruptly.

"You're a parasite, Isamu. No… worse than a parasite."

In a swift motion, Haruto's fist connected with Isamu's face, a sickening crunch echoing as blood sprayed. Isamu's head snapped back, his defiance crumbling under the blow.

"You don't deserve to be called a human being," Haruto spat, pulling a folding knife from his pocket.

The glint of the blade caught Isamu's attention, and his expression shifted from defiance to terror. He struggled against the restraints, but they held firm.

"Let me go, you piece of shit!" Isamu barked, his voice laced with panic.

"Don't squirm," Haruto warned, pressing the blade lightly to Isamu's cheek. "Unless you want a scar to remember me by."

With precision, Haruto slashed across Isamu's arm, the sharp edge leaving a shallow but stinging wound.

"AHHH!" Isamu screamed, his voice cracking with pain.

Haruto laughed darkly, leaning back as if entertained by the man's agony. "You scream like a little girl. That was barely a scratch, dumbass."

He turned to Ao and Suo. "Either of you got a lighter?"

Ao, his face alight with a mix of fascination and amusement, fished a lighter from his pocket and tossed it to Haruto.

"Thanks," Haruto said, flipping it open.

The flame danced as he held the knife over it, the blade turning orange-red from the heat.

The hiss of metal heating filled the quiet night, and Isamu's wide eyes reflected the glow of his impending torment.

"What the hell are you doing?! Stop it, you psychopath!" Isamu shouted, his voice trembling.

Haruto didn't respond. Instead, he pressed the searing blade against Isamu's skin.

"AAAAAHHH!" The man's screams tore through the night as the acrid scent of burnt flesh filled the air. His body writhed, the chair creaking under the strain of his struggles.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Haruto said, his voice cold. "Not as much as the pain Asuka went through. She gave birth to Kota and endured hell every day—because of you."

Haruto reheated the knife, its red-hot surface glinting with menace as he moved toward another patch of unscarred skin. Isamu's cries became incoherent, his voice hoarse from the unrelenting pain.

"Hold him," Haruto ordered.

Ao and Suo exchanged uneasy glances before stepping forward, pinning Isamu's head and prying his mouth open.

"You're crazy, man," Ao muttered, though his tone betrayed his morbid curiosity.

Haruto smirked, leaning in closer. "Let's see how loud you scream with a burnt tongue."

The sizzling blade met Isamu's tongue, the sound of flesh searing making even Ao flinch. Isamu convulsed violently, his muffled cries echoing until his strength gave out, his body slumping in the chair.

He didn't stop there, he slashed him with a burning knife, making him scream so loud, the dog from the neighbor kept barking nonstop.

All of his body were covered with blood and burned skin, his eyes lifeless as he couldnt stand the torture.

Minutes passed before Haruto crouched down, gripping Isamu's hair and forcing his lifeless gaze to meet his.

"Listen carefully. When Asuka brings the divorce papers, you're going to sign them. Got it?"

Isamu weakly nodded, his will thoroughly shattered.

"Good." Haruto straightened, dusting off his hands. "You can do whatever you want with him," he looked at his partners,

Ao then started to untie Isamu, he needed his fingerprint to open the safe box.

While Haruto pulled out his phone, typing a quick message as he walked toward the house.

[Kuro Usagi: Asuka, come to your house with the divorce papers. Inoue will sign them.]

A reply came shortly after.

[Asuka: Really? How'd you manage that?]

[Kuro Usagi: Don't be shocked when you see him. Let's just say he had a bad day.]

[Asuka: Haruto… If this involves anything illegal, I can't help you with the police.]

Haruto chuckled, shaking his head.

[Kuro Usagi: Don't worry. His body's intact. It's just his mind that's a little… disturbed.]

After a long pause, another reply came.

[Asuka: Fine. I'll head over. But don't let me see any blood. I hate that stuff.]

Haruto sighed, pocketing his phone. "Man, now I've gotta clean up."

He cast one last glance toward the scene outside before heading to the living room, muttering, "Never thought babysitting a scumbag would involve so much effort."

Under the watchful eyes of Ao and Suo—who ensured there was no chance of him slipping away—Isamu begrudgingly changed into clean clothes.

Meanwhile, Haruto and Suo silently counted the stacks of cash from the safe box, ensuring they could claim at least 20% of Isamu's outstanding loan.

When the preparations were complete, Ao ordered Isamu to sit at the dining table, his bruised and battered form slumping into the chair like a broken doll. Moments later, a bell echoed from the gate.

Haruto strode out to greet the visitor, a smile spreading across his face as he opened the gate to Asuka. She stood there, her brows furrowed in suspicion.

"No blood?" she asked, her tone flat but sharp with concern.

"No blood," Haruto assured her, stepping aside to let her in.

As they entered the dining area, Asuka's steps faltered. Her gaze landed on Isamu, whose face was marred with swollen bruises painted in shades of black and blue.

Despite his battered appearance, there was no visible blood, as Haruto had promised.

Asuka exhaled slowly and took the seat across from him. Without a word, she rummaged through her bag, pulling out the divorce papers and setting them firmly on the table.

Isamu's eyes lit up—not with anger or resentment, but with a flicker of joy. He seemed to forget his surroundings for a moment, his gaze fixated on Asuka.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Asuka…" he began, his voice wavering. "Where have you been all this time?"

Her expression remained cold as steel. "That's none of your business. Just sign the papers."

Isamu's attention shifted to the documents before him. He hesitated, the pen trembling in his hand. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice fragile.

"In our seventeen years of marriage… Was there ever a moment when you loved me? Even just a little?"

Asuka's face hardened, her voice devoid of emotion. "No. I never loved you. I always hated you. That's the only thing I've ever felt for you."

The faint hope in Isamu's eyes extinguished, replaced by a resigned sadness. A weak, bitter smile tugged at his lips as tears slipped silently down his cheeks.

"I see… That's how it is, then," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

He leaned forward, scrawling his signature on the papers. With that single motion, he severed the final thread of their toxic bond, officially marking the end of their marriage.