Pulling the smartphone out of his pocket, he immediately started typing a message to Haruno the moment everything clicked in his mind—who he was, where he was, and what he needed to do in this new world.
It was time for action.
He wasn't bullshitting when he made that silent vow earlier—tonight, he was going to make Ai Hoshino his.
Without hesitation, his fingers flew over the screen:
Hikaru Kamiki:
Haruno, I need to borrow your car. Meet me near the bar's restroom and hand over the keys. Think of it as the price you pay for all those years I spent keeping up your little façade.
Haruno Yukinoshita:
Fuck you, Hikaru! How the hell am I supposed to get home without my car, you asshole?!
Hikaru Kamiki:
Take a taxi and deal with it. You know well I've been covering your ass for three whole years in high school—pretending to be your perfect fake boyfriend, keeping other guys off your back, never even dating anyone myself. And now you're seriously telling me you can't do me this one tiny favor?
There was a long pause, then finally:
Haruno Yukinoshita:
Fine. Done. Meet me outside, you fucking jerk. Dickhead!
He smirked at her reply, unfazed, casually fixing his hair before striding toward the toilet entrance.
Sure enough, Haruno was waiting there, arms crossed, irritation practically sparking from her narrowed eyes.
"Here," she snapped, shoving the car keys into his hand. "Take it. And don't you dare show your face anywhere near where my mother or my sister could spot you until morning. I'm going to let my mother think I spent the night with you—so she'll finally stop forcing me into those blind dates."
Hikaru nodded, pocketing the keys without a second thought.
Since he was accepting the benefits, he had no problem following through on the deal to the end.
"Alright. Thanks for the car. I'll text you where to pick it up later." he said with a lazy grin.
Haruno just clicked her tongue in irritation and spun on her heel, walking away without sparing him another glance.
He watched her go, his eyes shamelessly drinking in her long legs, her perfectly swaying hips, the subtle bounce of her ass in that tight skirt.
Goddamn.
What a woman.
He shook his head with a smirk, stuffing the key into his pocket as he turned toward the previous spot again.
Tonight, he had bigger plans.
Ai Hoshino was waiting.
And he wasn't going to let anything—or anyone—get in his fucking way.
And there he was—watching Ai, surrounded by a bunch of pathetic, desperate flies who thought they could take advantage of her.
Fucking delusional idiots. They were about to become nothing more than stepping stones for him. Scum like them didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as her.
A cold, predatory smile curled on Hikaru's lips as he approached them, his eyes burning with pure, violent intent.
One of the bastards, a tanned, blonde piece of shit, stood out. The type you always saw in those cheap-ass hentai—douchebags who got off on stealing someone else's girl.
Hikaru had no patience for that shit. He wasn't interested in dragging this out; he was going to end it—fast and brutal.
"Huh, bitch, playing hard to get, aren't ya?" the tanned fuck sneered, his voice dripping with frustration.
His patience had worn thin. When Ai didn't give him a single glance, he snapped, raising his hand, ready to grab her—maybe shove her into some dark corner of the bar and fuck the resistance out of her.
But before that filthy hand could even brush her, Hikaru seized it in a crushing grip.
He snorted in disgust, locking eyes with the tanned bastard. "Don't you see, dumbass? She doesn't want to talk to you. Fuck off, loser."
"What the fuck did you just say?!" the blonde punk roared, his eyes flaring with rage.
His ego couldn't take the hit. Violence sparked in his eyes.
The rest of the lowlifes picked up on the mood instantly.
Their fists clenched, their posture shifted. Violence was in the air.
They didn't need to say it—they were ready to fucking jump him.
"Boy... we don't want trouble," one of them warned, voice low and threatening. "This ain't the kinda place you can stir up shit and get away with it."
One of them even pulled a knife, thinking he could scare Hikaru.
"Director..." Ai's voice trembled, worry flashing across her face.
"Don't worry, Ai-chan. Just watch." Hikaru's smile grew colder, sharper, deadlier.
He threw a punch straight at the tanned bastard's face.
The thug smirked, already moving to catch Hikaru's fist like some badass from a shitty B-movie.
But he never even realized—he was never the real target.
Hikaru twisted mid-strike, completely evading the tanned guy's reaction, and lunged for the knife-wielding thug without hesitation.
In one swift, brutal move, he ripped the blade from the fucker's hand.
Without even blinking, he slammed the stolen knife straight into the thug's crotch.
The thug let out an inhuman shriek, doubling over and clutching at his bleeding balls, blood soaking his pants and pooling beneath him.
The tanned guy recoiled, completely fucking stunned at the sheer ruthlessness Hikaru just unleashed.
The bar, which had been buzzing with morbid excitement a second ago, went dead silent.
The whole place turned grave, thick with the stench of fear.
People started to realize—this wasn't some bar fight you could just watch and laugh about. Someone could die here.
A few of the onlookers tried to step in, to "mediate," but it was already way past that point.
The thugs, who just moments ago looked ready to tear Hikaru apart, now looked like they wanted to be anywhere else.
They backed away, distancing themselves, hands raised in surrender.
But Hikaru wasn't finished. Not even close.
With a blank, merciless expression, he picked up the bloody dagger again—slick with gore—and without hesitation, jammed it straight into the wounded thug's right eye.
The fucker howled, thrashing like a dying animal as the blade buried itself deep.
His scream tore through the bar, raw and gut-wrenching, before it slowly, pathetically gurgled out into silence as he collapsed, twitching, into a spreading puddle of blood.
"HEY, BOY!" the tanned bastard shouted, finally snapping out of his shock, but it was too fucking late.
The thug was already dead.
"Ahhh! MURDER! MURDER!!" someone screamed.
"HELP! CALL THE COPS!"
"There's a murderer!!!"
The bar erupted into complete chaos.
Chairs toppled, glasses shattered, people shoved each other out of the way, desperate to flee.
The thugs, caught up in the whirlwind of panic, lost track of everything.
When they finally looked again, Hikaru and the girl—the one they thought they could toy with—were gone.
Disappeared without a fucking trace, like ghosts.
All that was left behind was a cooling corpse and a blood-soaked dagger sticking out of his ruined eye socket.
...
"Do you realize the consequences of your actions, Hikaru?" Haruno Yukinoshita snapped, glaring at him with an accusatory look burning in her eyes.
"We don't have time to argue over small matters, Haruno. I need you to drive before the cops show up," Hikaru said bluntly, tossing the car keys into her hands without a shred of hesitation.
"If you know—" Haruno tried to continue her rant, but Ai Hoshino quickly cut in, stepping between them.
"Sorry... It's my fault. If it weren't for me, Director wouldn't have ended up in this mess," Ai said, guilt painting her face as she bowed slightly toward both Haruno and Hikaru.
"We should go. Now," Hikaru pressed, his voice low and cold. He wasn't about to waste another second on pointless talk, not with the sound of sirens already bleeding into the edges of the night.
"Yeah, yeah. I get it," Haruno muttered under her breath, firing up the engine in a rush. She sped off down the dimly lit street while Hikaru and Ai slid into the backseat.
Without missing a beat, Hikaru pulled out his phone and started dialing Toyomi Fujiwara—a so-called best friend, and someone who had never managed to kill her crush on the former owner of this body, even after he had spent years pretending to date Haruno just to keep her at bay.
But now? Now it was time to use that lingering affection to its full advantage.
He leaned back against the seat, calm and unbothered, as the line connected and the concerned voice of Toyomi answered almost instantly.
"Hikaru... It's been so long since you last bothered to call me. You didn't even reach out after we graduated from Suuchin Academy. Where the hell have you been?"
"We graduated just two weeks ago," Hikaru deadpanned, his tone dry and unimpressed. "How exactly is that considered a long time?"
He wasn't rushing. There was no need. If the police hadn't slapped the cuffs on him yet, they weren't going to be a real problem. Not when he had the right people in the right places.
As long as he kept his grip on the elite circles, cleaning up trash like those street thugs—and painting himself as a hero in the media—was child's play. Witnesses could be bought, stories could be rewritten. It wasn't justice; it was theater. And he was the director.
"Hehe... Maybe, but two weeks feels like a long time to me, Hikaru... It's already midnight. You sound tense... Did something happen?"
What a good girl, Hikaru thought with a faint smirk.
Such a damn shame that the former owner of this body had wasted a perfectly useful girl like her.
"Yes... I need your help, Toyomi. I killed someone at a bar. There were a lot of witnesses too," Hikaru stated bluntly, without the slightest hint of hesitation.
On the other end of the line, there was a brief silence, then Toyomi spoke, his voice cautious. "Was there any justification for it, Hikaru? We need a reason—even if it's something small. As long as what you did can be justified, it'll be easy to clean up."
"Yeah. Some thugs were harassing a girl and tried to force themselves on her," Hikaru replied without missing a beat.
"Then that's easy. Don't worry about it, Hikaru. I'll handle everything. Goodnight—and don't forget to come see me tomorrow. Muah..." Toyomi blew him a kiss through the phone before hanging up.
Hikaru slipped his smartphone back into his pocket and turned to Ai, who was still standing close to him, visibly shaken.
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
"Are you scared, Ai-chan?" he asked in a low voice.
"No... I'm just worried that you'll get arrested, Director," Ai Hoshino said, her voice trembling slightly.
"There's no need for that," Hikaru scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt. "Those pieces of trash aren't worth a damn."
The law, from the very beginning, was never about protecting the weak. It was designed to shield the capitalists, the politicians, the elites, and anyone who actually mattered—the ones who contributed to the machine of the country.
It was never meant for the dregs at the bottom of society, the useless dead weight that could be crushed underfoot without a second thought.
In Hollywood, he had gotten away with all kinds of morally rotten shit time and time again, and he knew exactly why. Powerful people bend the law to their fucking will. That's the ugly truth nobody ever says out loud.
Connections, influence, and raw fucking power—those are the only real laws that matter in this world.
Everything else is just pretty words and fairy tales for idiots who still believe in justice.
Sure, on paper, you can justify what you do. You can dress it up, make it look good for the public eye. Kill someone because they tried to rob you? Fine. Defend your family? Even better.
But if you're just some dumbass trying to steal another man's woman or killing people at random for shits and giggles, then tough fucking luck. No one's gonna save you. Not the courts, not your money, not even fucking Jesus himself.
That's not how the world works. That's not how society moves.
The system only protects you when you're smart enough to play the game—when you know how to use your connections, your clout, your sheer weight of power, to get away with anything short of public mass murder.
You don't just act out like a brainless thug and expect to walk free.
If you can't weaponize your influence, if you can't move in the shadows and pull the right strings, you're nothing but another disposable piece of shit waiting to be fed into the grinder.
That's the fucking reality.
"Haruno, no need to rush. The sirens are gone," Hikaru said with a lazy smirk, leaning back in his seat. "You can walk your own self now."
Finally. The whole stupid shitshow was over. Who would've thought a bunch of random gutter trash could nearly get him arrested?
Yeah, getting arrested — even with powerful connections — was never a good thing. Getting caught before you could use your influence meant you were in deep trouble.
Once he was in custody, everything escalated. Paperwork got filed, reports were written, and public records started piling up — making it a lot harder for his "connections" to quietly intervene without exposing themselves.
That's why he was hellbent on avoiding the cops by any means necessary — and why he shut Haruno down fast when she wasted precious seconds bitching, even as the sirens were nearly on top of them.
Still, he wasn't even mad about it. If anything, he owed those lowlives a thank-you. After all, their bullshit had practically handed him the girl beside him on a silver platter.
"Jerk," Haruno muttered coldly as she opened the car door, shooting him a glare before stepping out. "Now we're even. Humph."
She didn't bother fighting back or arguing about the car anymore. Instead, she just turned her back without hesitation as he slid into the driver's seat.
Ai Hoshino watched them with a confused look. "Is she the girl you mentioned before, Director?"
"She is," Hikaru nodded, starting the engine with a calm hand as he pulled the car smoothly onto the road.
"Where's your home, Ai-chan?"
Ai went quiet for a moment, letting out a long sigh. "I got kicked out of the orphanage... I guess it was about time, though. I just turned eighteen, after all. They said it's time for me to be independent."
"Wanna stay at my place for a while?" he offered casually, but with a hint of genuine care.
"Wouldn't that be too much trouble?" Ai asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.
Hikaru chuckled lightly. "Come on, Ai-chan. You really think getting chased by cops is less trouble than letting you crash at my place?"
"Sorry, Director..." Ai lowered her head, guilt flashing across her face.
But Hikaru just shook his head. "No. You don't need to apologize. Honestly, teaching those idiots a lesson should've been enough. I'm the one who went overboard. If anything, it's me who should apologize—I almost dragged you into a mess."
"You saved me, Director. Don't you dare say you brought me trouble," Ai shot back firmly, her usual meekness vanishing in an instant.
Her voice now carried strength, something raw and real.
She hated the idea of him blaming himself when all he did was protect her.
In her eyes, there was nothing wrong with what he did.
Hikaru let out a soft chuckle. "If this were some shitty fanfiction, we'd be ticking the boxes for the 'hurt and comfort' genre by now."
"Maybe we are," Ai muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for him to hear.
"Anyway, Ai-chan, what do you say? Are you still gonna turn down my offer?"
Ai gave a small, sincere smile. "Thank you, Director."
That was all he needed to hear. Hikaru smiled back at her, warmth flickering in his eyes.
"Alright then. Let's head home."
And with that, he drove back—this time with the ultimate prize riding shotgun: the very girl who had been his favorite waifu back in his old life.
Life was fucking good when you were him.