[Item: Invisible Warning Dragonfly]
[Effect: A stealth micro-drone powered by solar energy, resistant to electromagnetic interference and impacts. Once bound, it monitors a target 24/7, providing real-time surveillance. It proactively warns of danger or signs of infidelity and assists the bound target in attacking enemies.]
A 3,000-desire-point item, its functionality was impressively robust.
As a system-crafted tool, Su Ze needed no monitoring platform—he could access the feed anytime, anywhere.
It was a temporary measure, though. He'd replace it eventually, as its features were limited.
His ideal anti-NTR solution was a low-cost, reusable, permanent aura skill, already named: Angel Halo. He'd envisioned it for ages—a flawless defense against all forms of NTR, countering hypnosis and coercion, with added healing and teleportation effects.
Its authority would be top-tier, capable of resisting even time-stopping magical tricks.
If desire points allowed, he'd add a purification effect, granting those under the halo an aura of purity.
Such a powerful skill came with a steep price.
Su Ze was nowhere near affording it.
That afternoon, Su Ze took a taxi to the Miyajima household.
En route, he activated the dragonfly's vision. Three monitor-like screens appeared before him, invisible to outsiders.
Kurashiki Reika and Reina were still at the hospital, chatting warmly with Jinguji Narumi. Having "shared the battlefield," the trio's camaraderie was palpable.
Since Su Ze had mentioned acquiring St. Juliana Hospital, Narumi was detailing its profit margins and staff structure.
Hospitals, in this world's underbelly, were notorious hotspots for risqué events. Su Ze had long harbored ambitions to dominate the medical industry, along with the yakuza and bar scenes.
Narumi, as an insider, could be a key ally.
After observing their superficial chatter, Su Ze closed the feed.
As he neared the Miyajima residence, he told the driver to stop.
Stepping out, he dialed a number, let it ring once, and hung up. His gaze locked onto a nearby alley, brimming with murderous intent.
Inside the alley, Watase Itsuki stared at his phone's busy tone, cursing under his breath. "Damn it!"
His eyes, half-hidden by black hair, glinted with violence.
Once a blonde delinquent, he'd dyed his hair back after his father remarried, bringing a stepmother, stepsister, and step-aunt into the family.
"Watase-bro, think Su Ze's not showing?" Morishita Masao asked.
The two had been waiting here after Su Ze's call, growing impatient.
"Hmph! If he bails, we'll corner his girlfriend tomorrow," Watase sneered, eyeing Morishita suspiciously. "You didn't tip him off, did you? How's he been dodging us?"
Morishita waved his hands frantically. "I transferred schools! I cut ties with my old classmates—how could I leak anything?"
Watase nodded, but then noticed Morishita's face pale. He turned toward the alley's entrance.
A tall, imposing figure strode in, hands in pockets.
Watase froze, a chill running through him, as if a predator had locked onto him.
"I-Instructor! What are you doing here?!" Morishita stammered.
"Didn't I call you?" Su Ze approached, towering over them.
Damn it! Why'd Masao mess with a guy like this?! Watase's forehead beaded with sweat, his mind racing for an excuse. Suddenly, a hand clamped his jaw.
Crunch!
The sound of shattering bone echoed as Watase's jaw was crushed into pulp.
Morishita stood petrified, trembling against the wall.
Su Ze handed him a packet of corpse-dissolving powder. "Sprinkle this on him. If the cops trace it to you, don't confess. You'll get a few decades at most—no death penalty."
Wiping his hand on Morishita's clothes, Su Ze spoke calmly.
Morishita nodded blankly. Time blurred as he snapped out of it, dumped the powder on Watase's body, and fled the alley, laughing and crying like a madman.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Su Ze stood at the Miyajima doorstep, pressing the bell.
Moments later, an elderly man with a bamboo sword opened the door.
"You're Sakura's classmate?" The man's sharp gaze sized Su Ze up, sensing an unsettling aura.
"I'm Su Ze. I made plans with Sakura to visit," Su Ze said with a smile.
The old man hesitated but opened the door. "I'm Sakura's grandfather. Come in. Tsubaki's preparing dinner."
Su Ze nodded. "Sorry for the intrusion."
It was an intrusion—he hadn't brought a gift. The old man's disapproval was palpable.
Young people these days had no manners.
He'd been neutral about Sakura dating, but now he sided with her father's disapproval.
The Miyajima home doubled as a kendo dojo, its layout steeped in traditional Japanese style: tiled eaves, wooden corridors, sliding doors, tatami mats.
The grandfather led Su Ze to a reception room.
A scroll hung on the wall, inscribed with "Heaven and Earth's Righteousness."
A dining table sat in the center, laden with steaming, exquisite dishes.
Sakura knelt primly at the table. Seeing Su Ze enter with her grandfather, her face lit up. "Ze-kun!"
She sprang up, hugging him tightly.
"Ahem!" Her grandfather coughed sharply.
Sakura quickly let go, gesturing eagerly. "Sit, sit! Mom heard you were coming and's making something special. Dad's… still at work."
Su Ze smiled, sitting cross-legged and ruffling Sakura's hair. "Your dad's a police officer, right? Must be a lot of pressure."
A faint floral scent wafted from Sakura, calming his nerves and softening his tone.
"Yeah," Sakura said, biting her tender lip. Hearing Su Ze speak up for her father eased her fears.
She'd worried he'd clash with her dad.
But Ze-kun didn't seem to have that intention.
If her father still opposed them, she'd just run away from home.
The two soon fell into cheerful chatter, while the grandfather sat silently, his face stern.
Just then, a stunning woman glided into the room, carrying a tray of food.
Her captivating face radiated mature charm, her blue-purple hair woven into a side braid. With delicate brows and long, almond-shaped eyes that curved enticingly, she wore simple clothes but exuded a gentle, seductive allure unique to seasoned women.
Her fox-like lavender eyes landed on Su Ze, a faint smile flickering within them.
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