NOVEL WEB Chapter 217: Crimson Office
Arataki has been so noisy since he saw Erika, but Haruto decided not to say anything to focus more on his mission.
'This needs to be successful and as fast and effective as possible.' he thought.
He stood before the office door, staring at the electronic lock that required either a password or a fingerprint to open.
A CCTV camera loomed in the corner, positioned perfectly to catch any suspicious movement.
Fortunately, Ayaka had informed him that the security room was practically useless at this hour—the guard in charge of the cameras was usually asleep, and unless a commotion broke out, no one actually monitored the footage in real-time.
Even more fortunate, Haruto had a good guess at the password.
Ren had a bad habit of using the same number combination for everything—the Crown of Ito website encryption, his file security, and even his LINE ID. It was almost as if he was obsessed with it.
'Well, if this doesn't work, I'll just break the damn doorknob.'
With that thought, Haruto keyed in the numbers:
280489
A small beep sounded, followed by the soft click of the lock disengaging. The door swung open without resistance.
Without hesitation, Haruto slipped inside, immediately assaulted by the pungent stench of alcohol.
His eyes flicked to the right, spotting an expensive liquor cabinet stacked with half-empty bottles.
The room itself was lavish but suffocating, the walls a mix of deep red and black, the floor covered in thick crimson fur carpeting that muffled every step.
In the center sat a sleek black sofa with a glass coffee table, and behind it, a large desk equipped with a computer.
To the side of the desk, two massive black chest of drawers loomed—likely filled with files Ren didn't want anyone to see.
Haruto pulled a pair of black gloves from his pocket, slipping them on before powering up the computer.
As expected, the login credentials matched the door's password—Ren truly was predictable.
Before he could start digging, Old Futto's voice crackled in his earpiece.
"Transfer every piece of data onto the flash drive. Don't leave anything behind."
Haruto gave a quick nod, plugging in the flash drive and setting the transfer in motion.
The progress bar crawled forward at a frustrating pace, so while waiting, he turned his attention to the black cabinets beside the desk.
The first one he opened sent a wave of disgust twisting in his gut. Neatly labeled memory cards filled the drawers, each one marked with a name tag.
'These… These are the same cards Ren gave Old Futto for that disgusting "special sushi."'
A cold rage crept up his spine as he pulled out his phone, inserting one of the cards and playing the video. His worst suspicion was confirmed.
A pornographic video flickered to life—the same kind of filth Ren distributed.
Haruto exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm even as his jaw tightened.
He glanced at the sheer number of drawers still left to check, each one likely stuffed with more evidence of Ren's depravity.
"Fuck."
His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried every ounce of his simmering anger.
Without hesitation, he grabbed every memory card, stuffing them into his backpack with careful, silent movements.
'This bastard… He deserves worse than death.'
Arataki's furious voice cut through the earpiece. "FUCK! That much?! Let's just kidnap that bastard and end him! Why are we even playing smart?!"
Enji sighed. "Damn…"
Then, Old Futto spoke in a tone far colder than usual. "Patience. Once we have him in our grasp, we'll have all the time in the world to make him suffer."
The line went silent for a moment.
"Whoa, whoa… are we rubbing off on you? Since when did you talk like a villain?" Enji chuckled, his voice laced with amusement.
But Haruto wasn't listening anymore.
Just as he zipped up his bag, a faint click echoed in the silent room—the sound of the doorknob turning.
His blood ran cold.
The room was soundproof—he hadn't heard anyone approaching. He barely had time to react before the door swung open.
Standing in the doorway, eyes locking onto him in stunned silence—
Daiki.
Haruto didn't panic. He straightened his posture, knowing that his skill would automatically alter his appearance to someone familiar to Daiki.
As their eyes met, Daiki raised a brow. "What are you doing here? Aren't you still in the hospital?"
Haruto kept his expression neutral, his mind racing. 'Does he see me as Ren?' he wondered.
Ren's injuries had been severe, and that bastard was supposed to be stuck in a hospital bed for at least another week.
"I left something behind," Haruto replied casually, taking a step back.
From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the memory transfer progress—95% and still climbing.
Daiki narrowed his eyes and took a slow step forward. Then, a smirk tugged at his lips.
"Hm… Then tell me, what are you planning to do about Haruto after the humiliation you suffered?"
Haruto forced a cocky smile. "Obviously, I'll find a way to kill that bastard."
Daiki tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. "That's it? Are your brains leaking out from your nose after that beating?"
He sighed and plopped onto the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. "Boring."
Silence stretched between them.
Haruto shifted slightly, stealing another glance at the screen—98%. Almost there.
"What are you standing around for?"
Daiki suddenly snapped. He gestured lazily at the alcohol cabinet.
"Get me my favorite drink."
Haruto stiffened. He needed to make sure the transfer finished before leaving, but how the hell was he supposed to escape now with Daiki sitting there?
Before he could react, a glass flew past his head, shattering against the wall.
His pulse spiked.
Daiki's gaze darkened. "Did you not hear me? Serve me the damn alcohol, dumbass."
'Fuck this asshole.' Haruto clenched his jaw.
With no other choice, he left the flash drive plugged in and turned to the cabinet, scanning the shelves. His hand landed on a 1995 whiskey, deciding on the spot.
'I'll hand him this, then knock him out with the bottle.'
But as soon as he turned back—
Daiki was already standing right in front of him.
His expression had shifted, his smirk vanishing into something more calculating.
"You…" His voice was low, his eyes sharp.
"You're not Ren, are you?"