Netori: I Shall Steal All Of My Enemies' Women For Revenge!-Chapter 254: An Old Friend

Haruto stared at Ren’s corpse, his expression hardened. He took a slow breath and reached forward again, pressing his trembling hand onto the deep scar over Ren’s remaining eye.

"Psychometry... activate."

[Psychometry of People activated.]

[Target is deceased. The memory may be fragmented or unstable.]

[Accessing Second Memory... 25%... 70%... 100%]

[You may open your eyes.]

When Haruto opened his eyes, he was somewhere else entirely—somewhere cold.

And he knew for sure that Ren was terrified, that poor boy hugged his own body in the corner of the dark room.

His body trembled against the freezing stone floor. The air was musty, sour, and full of decay. Every breath hurt. His chest was tight, beating too fast it was hard to breathe.

’This must be the basement where Ayaka was locked up...’ Haruto thought, he becomes very uneasy. Wondering what kind of hell happening in here.

A thin, flickering bulb swayed above the basement ceiling. Haruto—no, Ren—couldn’t lift his head. His bones ached. His skin was littered with bruises.

"Disgusting little brat..."

That voice, the sound of something sharp dragging across the concrete. It was the crazy woman’s voice Haruto heard in Ren’s first memory.

"You talked to her, didn’t you?" the woman hissed. "Touched her. You made her dirty. You ruined my daughter!"

Ren’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His tongue felt like lead. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. His legs wouldn’t move. His stomach was cramped.

"I didn’t!" Ren’s voice finally cracked through, hoarse and desperate. "I only talked to her once! I didn’t do anything! I just asked her name—" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

’Just one?’ Haruto thought, as he remembered from Ayaka’s story, that Ren had always accompanied her like her hero. But just once?

"Liar!" the woman shrieked, stepping closer.

Her figure was wild and looming. In one hand she clutched a kitchen knife, stained. Her face blurred and monstrous, the only thing he could see was the green eyes that haunted him.

The woman clearly wants to kill him with the knife as he closes his eyes tight.

"Mama! Stop!" A child’s voice rang out, desperate as Ren opened his eyes again to see small Ayaka.

Ren’s head snapped up just enough to see her. She was small, barefoot, and in a thin white dress, stepping out from the corner of the basement. Her hair was tangled. Her face was red from crying.

’Ayaka...’ something inside Haruto’s heart was pained. She was just a child, and so did Ren. What kind of monster did this to them?

She rushed forward and fell to her knees between Ren and her mother.

"Mama, please!" she sobbed. "It’s not his fault! It was me! I talked to him! I wanted a friend!"

The woman’s hands trembled. "You... you filthy little thing..."

Ayaka clung to her mother’s leg, crying harder. "I was lonely! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt him, Mama... Hurt me instead..."

Ren’s vision blurred with tears—Haruto could feel them falling, hot and stinging, down his cheeks. His body wouldn’t move. His muscles were locked in fear.

"You corrupted her..." the woman muttered to herself, over and over. "You tainted her..."

She raised the knife.

"No... no! Please don’t!" Ren’s voice cracked, raw with panic.

But before the blade could fall, Ayaka moved—her small arms wrapped tightly around her mother from behind, forcing the woman’s balance to tip. The knife clattered to the floor with a metallic clang.

"Run! Ren, run!" Ayaka screamed, holding on with all her strength as her mother thrashed and shrieked like a wild animal.

But Ren didn’t move.

His legs refused to obey. His body was locked in place, trembling like a leaf. The fear rooting him to the spot was overwhelming—paralyzing.

He watched in frozen horror as Ayaka was suddenly thrown aside. Her back slammed into the stone wall with a loud, sickening thud.

"THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU!!"

The woman grabbed her own hair, yanking it like a madwoman, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "She dared defy me—all because of you!"

She lunged at Ren.

Her fingers twisted into the front of his shirt and yanked him upward until his feet dangled off the ground.

"So-sorry... please..." Ren sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. His wounded eye bled freely, dripping down his face.

But his pleas only seemed to fuel her rage. With a guttural scream, she slapped him. Again and again. Her fists rained down like hammers on his small, fragile body.

Every strike reverberated through Haruto’s soul.

He felt everything—the sting of each blow, the sharp, spreading pain in his ribs, the terror crushing his lungs.

"SHE NEVER DID THIS TO ME BEFORE!" the woman screamed. "YOU AND HER FATHER—YOU’RE THE SAME! BOTH OF YOU TAINTED HER!"

She threw Ren’s body to the floor like discarded trash and then began kicking him. Her feet slammed into his ribs, his back, his stomach.

Haruto wanted to scream. He wanted to fight back, but he was Ren.

And Ren could only curl into himself, arms barely shielding his head, sobbing and broken.

But suddenly, the door burst open.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs. The woman froze.

Haruto couldn’t see clearly—Ren’s face was turned away—but he heard her furious scream cut short by a shout:

"You dirty hag! How dare you touch my princess!"

The voice.

Haruto knew that voice.

He knew it too well.

Then, Ren started to turn to the source of the voice. Only to see a glint of silver in the dark—followed by a sickening crunch. The sound of a blade plunging into flesh. Again. And again.

The woman shrieked, a wet, choking sound before she fell to the ground.

But the stabbing didn’t stop.

The small figure climbed onto her body, driving the weapon into her chest, stomach, and neck over and over, each thrust more violent than the last.

Blood sprayed across the room, warm and thick. It coated the floor, splattered the walls, and soaked into Ren’s clothes where he lay motionless in shock.

Finally, the boy stopped.

The corpse beneath him was motionless, unrecognizable.

Slowly, the boy stood and pulled back his hood.

His face was blurred, but Haruto could see the unmistakable features—the same emerald green eyes as the woman, the same jet-black hair.

And in that instant, Haruto knew exactly who he was looking at.

Even with the face hidden, the truth was undeniable.

It was him.

The boy turned, locking eyes with Ren, eyes now wide with horror and confusion.

And then, darkness swallowed everything.

The memory ended.

Haruto jolted upright, gasping for air. His body trembled, drenched in cold sweat, and his knees nearly buckled beneath him.

"That... That was me," he whispered, eyes wide with shock. "But... it wasn’t me."

His voice trembled with uncertainty. The boy in the memory—his movements, his voice, even the way he gripped the knife—it all felt familiar. Too familiar.

And yet... something was off.

Haruto clenched his fists, struggling to steady his breath. That boy, the more he saw him, the more he felt disconnected from him, to his own past too.

It felt like, he was just somebody else and it reminded him of someone.

"An old friend?" Haruto murmured, heart pounding as a distant name echoed in his mind.

The image returned—the temple bathed in silence, the warmth of candlelight, and a boy who never once stepped beyond its sacred walls. Always watching, always waiting.

The realization hit like ice down his spine.

"Jin..."