Netori: I Shall Steal All Of My Enemies' Women For Revenge!-Chapter 249: Revenge Served Cold

"Did you know I have a hidden talent?"

Arataki murmured, pressing the cold edge of the scalpel against Ren’s chest.

Ren’s eyes bulged as the blade slowly slid down his skin, leaving a deep red trail behind.

"FUCK YOU!!!" he screamed, writhing helplessly in pain and panic.

Arataki continued calmly, unbothered by the outburst. "When I was a kid, I wanted to impress my father. Thought maybe... being a doctor would do it. So I practiced—ran little experiments on animals."

The scalpel dragged further down Ren’s abdomen, splitting flesh with ease. Blood oozed from the clean incision, warm and wet against the freezing metal table.

"Just look at my hand," Arataki said with a twisted grin, admiring his own work. "Not even a tremble. It’s like I’m just slicing through meat."

Ren howled louder, the bed trembling beneath his thrashing as the metallic creaks mixed with the sound of his tortured screams.

Haruto stood by silently, eyes wide for a moment. He hadn’t seen this side of Arataki before.

He’d always thought of him as just a loud-mouthed teen with a bad fashion sense.

But now—this? This was something darker. Sharper. Monstrous.

’Did watching Erika break push him over the edge...? Or was this side always there, buried until now?’

Still, Haruto couldn’t judge. He had his own darkness. His own anger.

"Haruto," Arataki said without looking back, "let’s start with his fingers... It’s going to be a long night."

His voice was eerily calm, his smile hollow, his eyes empty.

Haruto snapped out of it and simply nodded. This wasn’t just his revenge—it was Ayaka’s, Rin’s, Erika’s... All the nameless victims who’d been shattered by Ren’s cruelty.

He stepped to the side, picking up a pair of small pliers—one for himself, one for Arataki.

As he turned back, Ren was already sobbing, snot dripping from his nose, eyes wild with terror.

"OKAY! I’M SORRY!! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I HAVE MONEY—M-MILLIONS! PLEASE!!"

Before he could finish, Haruto grabbed his face roughly, squeezing his cheeks tight. The pathetic plea was cut short.

"Did you stop when all those girls begged you to stop?" Haruto’s voice was sharp, shaking. His grip tightened.

"Did you listen when they cried, knelt, licked your fucking shoes?"

"You didn’t. You laughed. You enjoyed it. Their pain was your entertainment."

He leaned closer, green eyes glinting under the surgical lights. "So now? We’re going to enjoy this. Just like you did."

But then, in the silence that followed, Haruto’s thoughts drifted.

A memory... A voice... Haruka’s.

"Why can’t you let me die, brother?! You never cared! So why now?"

"It’s too late! I’m broken! Dirty! I don’t want to live anymore! Just let me die!!"

Haruto’s breath caught in his throat. His grip loosened on Ren’s face. His heart ached—raw and stinging.

He had held her that day, trying to stop her trembling body from collapsing. Her screams still echoed in his mind.

"At that time... I should’ve let her die," he whispered bitterly.

His eyes fell to Ren—this sniveling, pathetic husk of a man. The one who had filmed Haruka’s violation. Who spread it. Who mocked her suffering. Who had set everything in motion.

And yet... Haruka had suffered even more after surviving. He had left her when she needed him most.

’What happened to her after I died?’

The thought paralyzed him. A cold dread seeped in.

He let go of Ren’s face, stepping back. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the guilt and weight of memory. He shook his head—he didn’t want to know.

Not yet.

Because right now, the only thing that mattered—was making Ren feel a fraction of what his victims had endured.

Haruto’s grip tightened around the pliers as he moved toward Ren’s hand. Without hesitation, he clamped down on a finger and began pulling, slow and precise, peeling the nail back from flesh.

"YOU!!! ASSSHHHOOLLEEE!!!"

Ren’s scream echoed like a symphony through the room—a twisted melody of agony that resonated with both Haruto and Arataki.

Every screech was a flashback. Every tear a reply to the screams that had once come from the women in those cursed Crown of Ito videos they heard almost everyday in this last moths.

This—this was justice served cold.

"FUCKK!!! STOP! STOPPPP! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!!"

But Haruto didn’t stop. He moved to the next finger, and then the next, each motion met with a guttural wail.

Arataki followed suit, working on Ren’s toes, each removed nail placed neatly on the metal tray like grim trophies.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the room. Someone had slammed their palm against the observation glass.

"Boring!" a voice rang through the microphone. "Cut his dick!"

Both boys turned to see Rin pressing her face against the glass, eyes gleaming with a cruelty.

"Use your pliers!" she shouted, fogging the glass with her breath. "Crush it! Or let me do it!"

Haruto and Arataki exchanged a glance. Then, Haruto shrugged, a smirk on his lips. "Suit up, Rin. Pretty sure you know how to make people really scream."

The glass door buzzed open, and Rin stepped in, donning a surgical gown. Her expression was pure malice.

"NO! NO! DON’T—DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!! I ALREADY APOLOGIZED, DAMN IT!!"

Ren thrashed violently, but the restraints held firm. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he saw Rin approach, her grin growing.

"Your technique’s too clean," she told Haruto as she took the pliers.

"If you really want to make someone suffer, use something blunt. Cuts are over too quickly."

She gripped Ren’s most cock hard without hesitation, pliers clamped just at the tip. Ren shrieked, voice cracking, his mind tipping over the edge.

"NO—NOOO PLEASE—!!"

"You remember Keiko?" Rin hissed. "The girl you labelled ’nurse’ in those videos? The one you stripped of her dignity?"

The pliers tightened. A sharp hiss of urine escaped as Ren lost control. But Rin wasn’t done.

"This thing you were so proud of—" she spat, "—it’s going to die crushed, just like my best friend’s dreams."

"FUCK YOU, BITCH! I’LL KILL YOU!! FUCK THAT WHORE—"

His voice cut off in a choked shriek as Rin pulled, crushing and yanking without mercy. His screams dissolved into hoarse gasps, and then—nothing but the ragged heaving of someone drowning in pain.

And she didn’t stop there. Her hand curled into a fist, then closed around what remained of his manhood, his balls, squeezing with full force.

Ren’s eyes rolled back. His body convulsed, muscles twitching uncontrollably.

"Oops," Arataki said dryly, stepping closer to examine. "I think he’s having a heart attack."

Panic flashed through the room. Haruto stepped forward. Rin’s grin vanished as she looked down at the seizing man.

He couldn’t die. Not yet.

This was just the beginning.