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

Enji lounged in the spa, basking in the attention of the women gathered around him.

Draped in a pristine white robe and with his legs confidently crossed, he looked every bit the playboy he aspired to be.

His smirk was infectious as he held court, flirting effortlessly.

"I keep telling you, ladies—most men only care about boobs and ass," he said with a mischievous grin, "but me? I love women in every shape and form." He winked, eliciting a chorus of laughter.

The older woman to his left tilted his chin toward her, inspecting his face with a playful smile.

"This is the face that makes me regret marrying my husband," she teased, her voice thick with humor.

The younger woman to his right burst into laughter. "Ah, the energy of youth! I'm so jealous," she said, gently patting his hand.

Enji chuckled, leaning back with unshakable confidence. "Why regret? You're here with me now, aren't you?" His answer, smooth and daring, made the women laugh even louder.

In truth, Enji was inspired by his friend, Haruto. If Haruto could juggle multiple women, why couldn't he? He had the looks, after all—it would be a waste not to use them.

'I just have to be smarter about it,' he thought smugly.

But just as his thoughts drifted back to Haruto, his phone buzzed with an incoming video call. His brow furrowed.

"Haruto?" he murmured, surprised.

Haruto wasn't the type to call, much less video call, unless something urgent was happening.

'Did Mari snap? Is she secretly a psycho?' Beads of sweat formed on Enji's temple. 'Is she chasing him with a knife or something?'

He answered the call, and what greeted him almost made him drop the phone.

Haruto looked like he had just gone through hell. His hair was disheveled, his face was beet red, and his mouth was full as if he just got a filler.

He looked like he was one breath away from passing out.

Unable to help himself, Enji burst into laughter. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Sh-shut up!" Haruto rasped, his voice hoarse. He coughed and cleared his throat, grimacing. "Damn it… I think I pressed the wrong button."

"Wrong button? What are you even—?"

Haruto cut him off, his tone was deadly serious. "Listen to me. I'm sending you the address of this ramen shop."

"You need to get here and keep Asuka away from this place. Do not mess this up, Enji. If she finds me like this, I'm dead meat!"

"Asuka? Who's that?" Enji frowned, confused.

"You just met her earlier! Don't play dumb!" Haruto snapped, before abruptly ending the call.

Enji blinked at the blank screen, letting out a long sigh. "I have the worst friend in the world," he muttered.

The women beside him leaned in, their faces filled with curiosity.

"Ladies," he said, standing up with a theatrical sigh, "it seems I must take my leave. Duty calls." He flashed them a winning smile.

"But before I go, can I at least have your numbers or LINE IDs? It'd be tragic if we never spoke again."

The women giggled, exchanging contact with him.

"Don't forget to call me," one of them said, her cheeks slightly pink.

Enji took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "How could I ever forget someone as beautiful as you?"

Her face reddened further, and before he could leave, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Though his heart ached at the thought of leaving his newfound admirers, he turned toward the exit with a dramatic wave.

"Adios, beautiful ladies!" he called out, his voice carrying across the spa as they giggled behind him.

With one last wink, Enji headed off, grumbling under his breath. "Haruto better owes me big for this…"

***

Haruto turned off the call, letting out a shaky breath as he finally managed to calm down.

The fiery sensation in his throat still lingered, but at least he could sip the ocha in front of him now.

The cool tea soothed his inflamed throat, though the relief was temporary.

"Damn ramen," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

"I can't believe I almost died because of this stupid challenge."

He glanced at the system notification again, his stomach sinking. Asuka was still closing in, and to his dismay, Mari was also nearby. His heart raced.

"Please, please, don't let them meet," he whispered, gripping his phone tightly. His mind was already racing toward a contingency plan.

'If Asuka sees me with Mari, she'll tease me. And Mari? She'll connect the dots. It'll be over for me—no, worse than over. Mari will kill me.'

His gaze shifted to the steaming bowl of ramen before him, its ominous red broth practically mocking him. He shuddered.

He'd ignored her calls and messages for over an hour, and she brought him here to make up for it. What would happen if she realized the real reason he'd been avoiding her?

Just as his thoughts spiraled further, Mari burst into the restaurant, clutching five cartons of milk in her arms. Her breath was ragged, her cheeks flushed from running.

"Here!" she exclaimed, dumping the cartons onto the table in front of him. "Drink these! You'll feel better!"

Haruto's chest tightened at the sight of her worried face. Her panic was evident in the way her hands trembled as she pushed the milk toward him.

"Calm down, Mari," he said gently, grabbing one of the cartons.

"I'll be fine."

He opened it and took a long swig, the cool liquid washing away the lingering spice in his throat.

He let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Ah… this is heaven," he murmured, setting the half-empty carton on the table.

Mari finally sat down, her shoulders sagging as she caught her breath. Her expression was filled with guilt, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm so sorry, Haruto," she said quietly, her voice tinged with regret.

"I didn't mean for it to get this bad. I just… I just wanted us to have fun."

The way she looked at him like she'd been the one suffering through the fiery ramen, made his heartache.

"You don't have to apologize," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "This isn't your fault. But next time… if you're upset with me, promise me you won't drag me to a place like this, okay?"

Mari pouted, her cheeks puffing out slightly, but she nodded. "Fine… I just…" She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"I was worried you were… you know… cheating on me."

Her words hit him like a bolt of lightning. Her intuition was scarily accurate, and guilt gnawed at him.

The system had put him in this predicament, and now he understood why it threw these challenges at him.

It was testing his heart.

Haruto took a deep breath, his throat still raw but his resolve wavering. Part of him wanted to come clean, to tell Mari everything.

But he knew not all women were like Asuka—understanding, playful, and willing to share.

"Mari…" he started, his voice low and hesitant. "Actually—"

Enji stood outside the ramen shop, a smug grin plastered on his face as he replayed Haruto's panicked expression in his mind.

"Oh man, Mari really outdid herself this time. That woman is terrifying! But this... this is priceless. Absolutely worth the trip."

He couldn't help but laugh loudly knowing so well that Haruto couldn't stand spicy food. He didn't care if the passerby thought he was crazy.

He just wanted to stir some drama between both of them, but Mari took a step further, making it worse.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

After a moment, he composed himself and glanced around. His eyes landed on Asuka, standing near the shop's entrance.

She was hard to miss—her silky brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated an effortless charm.

Her emerald eyes sparkled like gems beneath the glow of the streetlights, and the green kimono she wore clung to her figure in just the right way to command attention.

"Damn," Enji muttered under his breath. "How the hell does Haruto pull this off? She's like a walking dream."

However, his admiration was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.

A man hovered near her, leaning in close and speaking animatedly, though Asuka's indifferent demeanor suggested she wasn't the least bit interested.

"Huh... could he be her husband?" Enji rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"If that's the case, no wonder she's sneaking around with Haruto. Poor guy probably doesn't stand a chance."

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. His priority wasn't to psychoanalyze Asuka's personal life—it was to keep her from crossing paths with Mari and blowing Haruto's cover.

Turning his gaze back to the ramen shop, Enji's eyes drifted up to the second floor. An idea sparked, and he quickly pulled out his phone to shoot Haruto a message:

"Got an idea. Stall Mari. Get her upstairs somehow. I'll keep Asuka downstairs. Don't screw this up, man."