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

Haruto entered the large temple, the air inside cool and serene, with statues lined up around the vast room—symbols of worship and devotion.

He greeted a few priests with a polite bow, exchanging a light smile.

They knew him as someone who occasionally came to help clean the temple, keeping a quiet presence.

But today, Haruto had another purpose. Before taking on something significant, he felt compelled to share his plans with Jin.

His friend was like a grounding presence, someone he instinctively sought out before big moves.

Haruto made his way towards the temple's backyard, the soft clinking of furin wind chimes overhead signaling he was near.

When he reached the koi pond, he found Jin standing there as always, his hoodie dark against the summer light, its hood pulled up despite the sweltering heat.

Jin seemed entranced by the koi swimming in calm, endless loops.

"Yo, Jin, what are you doing here?"

"I'm always here. I'd ask you the same thing, though—what's brought you to my little corner?"

"Well yeah..."

Haruto then told Jin everything, from becoming a gang member, meeting Daiki, Asuka, and even his plan for the future.

"I will fight in the underground ring with Daiki tomorrow."

"Hm… I see…"

Jin was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a gleaming object.

Haruto's breath caught as he recognized it: a set of knuckle, their metal reflecting the light in hard, unforgiving angles.

"This… It's knuckle?"

"Use it when fighting with Daiki."

"Why?"

Haruto took the knuckle, feeling the weight in his hands. The four circles fit snugly around his fingers, each ending with a sharp point.

He realized the deadly potential they held, especially if aimed at someone's face.

He fought in the dog cage a couple of times and never once did his opponents use a weapon. So he thought that it would be the same with the Underground Ring.

"Why not? Why do you think Enji was saying that you are ready?"

Jin's question weighs heavily on him. He was right about it and that could mean a thing: Daiki was weaker than Enji.

But why do they make it such a big deal?

"Do you find the answer? Underground fights don't have any rules. The only rule is the one last standing is the winner. Daiki might use dirty tricks and you need to be smarter than that."

Haruto looked at the knuckle in his hand. Pondering for a while he finally nodded.

"I will use it if he uses dirty tricks."

Jin laughs, "You could end it right there in the ring, crush Daiki and be done with this revenge once and for all."

"But you're here, holding back, saying you'll only fight dirty if he does?"

"Haruto... I know you can be naive sometimes. But by the time you use it, you might be already lost... Or dead."

"A wise man once said revenge is like a two-headed viper. You can watch your enemy fall, but it poisons you, too. It coils tighter and tighter until you end up just as twisted as the very thing you set out to destroy."

"But if that poison's already taken root… why keep fighting it? Forget your principles, embrace that anger, and hit lower than you ever thought possible."

Haruto gazed at Jin, he was right about it. But it would be funny if he was the only one using a weapon. He hated being considered a coward.

"I'll know when the time's right, Jin," he replied, a determined glint in his eye. "Don't worry."

"Just because I might not use this knuckle doesn't mean I'm going soft. I'll take him down my way."

***

Haruto stepped out of the car, his eyes adjusting to the dim street lights as Enji and Arataki fell in line beside him.

Ahead, Senior Nakamura and Kikuchi stood waiting, a quiet resolve etched on their faces.

There was no sign of Erika, which struck Haruto as odd.

He met Nakamura's gaze, voice steady as he broke the silence. "No Erika tonight?"

Arataki answered before Nakamura could. "No. We don't bring women when meeting them. Neither should you."

Haruto took in Arataki's stance—a bit tense than usual, shoulders squared, jaw clenched.

It was rare to see him so cautious, and it gave Haruto pause, a faint thread of unease tugging at the back of his mind.

'They won't mess with Erika, right? She is Arataki's sister anyway.'

The bar was unnervingly quiet as they entered. No music hummed in the background, no chatter filled the room.

There were no patrons save for an elderly bartender with a loosened tie, his silver-gray hair and beard giving him an air of quiet authority.

He didn't acknowledge their approach beyond setting a few glasses in front of him, his movements were efficient and practiced.

Kikuchi gave a subtle nod. "Sbagliato for five."

The bartender lifted his gaze, meeting each of theirs with an unreadable look before gesturing toward a dimly lit door at the far end of the room.

The group moved as one, passing through the door and into a narrow hallway where stairs led downward.

Haruto trailed a hand along the cool stone wall, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the corridor until, finally, they reached a vast, dimly lit chamber.

The only real light focused on a circular pit in the center of the room, a stark contrast to the shadows that swallowed the surrounding space.

His eyes fell to the hole in the ground—a fighting pit. Rough, raw, and nothing like the organized brawls he'd imagined.

The pit wasn't that deep, as it was separated by a gate that was like the one in the Dog Cage.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, his voice a murmur to himself. "So, this is why they call it the underground ring."

Nakamura glanced at him, a flicker of amusement softening his otherwise serious expression.

"Not quite the same as the sparring rings you're used to, huh?"

Haruto shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the pit.

Kikuchi came to an abrupt halt, turning just enough to fix Haruto with a stern gaze. "Listen up," he said, his tone a low warning.

"You can do whatever you need to in there, but don't kill him. If you're cornered and need a weapon, yell for us. And if you need to give up…" He paused, his expression unyielding.

"Just play dead."

With that, Kikuchi started moving again, but his words lingered, heavy in the air. Haruto's mind whirred, replaying the instructions over and over as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

Anxiety tightened his chest, his resolve teetering as old memories resurfaced—the brutal things Daiki had done, the pain he'd inflicted before Haruto's reset.

For a brief moment, fear twisted in his gut, gnawing at his confidence.

Sensing his unease, Enji reached out, his hand steady as he gripped Haruto's shoulder.

"Hey, relax. You'll be fine," he said, voice firm yet calming.

"Just be calm and collected when you fight him."

Haruto drew in a long breath, letting it settle before exhaling slowly.

'Enji's right. I can't let this shake me now. Remember the past, Haruto. Remember the way he tormented your sister, turned her life into hell.'

With every beat of his heart, the anger simmered, fueling his resolve, and sharpening it.

His fingers clenched, knuckles whitening as his mind focused on the vow he'd made to himself.

'Let the rage take over. Use it. This time... I have to win.'