The Heroines All Regretted It

[He wouldn't… no…!]

That thought suddenly struck Eriri, and she looked up in panic.

By now, Yoru had already finished recording and stepped back to where he was.

"Is that enough? I'll give you twenty million more—how about it?"

Eriri asked in a fluster.

"Still not enough. Let's try a different kind of apology."

Yoru tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"What more do you want?"

Eriri's feet, clad in thick white tights, shifted nervously on the floor—her anxiety getting the better of her.

Thankfully, all he wanted was a different pose.

She'd already done a dogeza, one of the most humiliating gestures imaginable—what could be worse?

"I remember you, Sawamura Eriri. Always so arrogant. You looked down on me, called me names, rolled your eyes like I was trash."

"How about this—cross your arms, lift your chin like you're better than me, give me that same judgmental glare while you apologize. Eye-roll and all."

Yoru's suggestion left Eriri dumbfounded.

What kind of twisted roleplay was this?

"You pervert… disgusting freak… creep… go to hell…"

She cursed him silently, torn between shame and guilt, praying Yoru would just stop already.

And yet…

Eriri still did it. Blushing furiously, she crossed her arms over her chest, raised her head proudly, her twin-tails bouncing behind her. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a scornful glare, she looked straight at Yoru.

"I'm sorry… really sorry… sumimasen…"

But by the end, her voice cracked. She couldn't hold it in anymore and clamped her hands over her face, wishing the ground would just swallow her whole.

This Obese pig is so disgusting!

"One last time, and you're done."

Yoru, reading her mind, understood her deeply. Her pride was nearly pathological.

Face was everything to her.

"Hurry up and spit it out, you freak. What else do you want?!"

Eriri stomped her foot, her face marked with a burning-red slap print. Her hair was disheveled, uniform all messed up.

"…Just one last thing. Crawl over to me like a dog. Bark a little. Then we're good."

Yoru yawned casually.

[You bastard! Say that again?! No way in hell!]

[You're just trying to humiliate me! You're filming this to use against me, aren't you?!]

That did it—Eriri exploded.

She was a half-Japanese, half-European daughter of nobility. Raised with wealth, spoiled from a young age, envied by many. And now, this?

She refused to be anyone's pet.

Not in the past. Not now. Never.

Yoru remained calm.

"I'd like to say a few things in return."

His mind-reading still active, he heard every word of Eriri's frantic internal monologue. He chuckled bitterly.

If he didn't completely crush that proud heart of hers now, she'd recover, return someday, and act just as arrogant as before.

"And if I don't keep some sort of proof, you'd probably try to get back at me later, wouldn't you?"

After saying that, he listened closely to her thoughts and feelings.

They were a mess.

Regret. Fear. Guilt. Resentment. Even flashes of vengeance.

"If you leave now, I won't hold a grudge. I'll even help clear your name."

That surprised her.

She stayed silent for a while, staring at him with a complicated expression.

She knew how badly she'd hurt him.

She wanted to make it right.

But some wounds—like nails driven into wood—leave scars, even if you remove them.

And what could she offer? Money?

But Yoru wasn't desperate for money anymore. He didn't really care about that.

And yet… he'd done horrible things to her, too.

She felt the contradiction eating at her. Torn between guilt and indignation, she couldn't make a clear decision.

People are instinctively biased toward themselves.

Eriri had never experienced the suffering Yoru had endured.

She tried to imagine it—but how could a pampered, beloved heiress possibly understand?

His words reached her ears, but they didn't hit her heart.

Only someone who'd been treated like garbage, shunned and mocked, could really understand.

Yoru, still reading her heart, stared at the glowing chest hovering above her.

If it weren't for Fujiwara, he might not be alive right now.

The room went quiet.

Starlight and moonlight spilled gently into the room from the balcony.

"Sawamura Eriri," Yoru said slowly, "you seem to forget one thing—you're in my hands now."

That was what he needed her to feel.

He had to break her carefully maintained pride at its core.

He had to strike at her deepest shame.

If she didn't want the world to see this video, to have her carefully curated image destroyed—then she had no choice.

Eriri bit her lip hard. The emotional pain was far worse than the physical.

"No way…"

"I'm a person. I have dignity. That's not happening!"

"Absolutely not!"

She shut her eyes tight, refusing to speak again.

Yoru was quiet for a moment, then let out a sigh.

Fair enough.

Even rabbits bite when cornered—and Eriri was a lioness in silk.

"You don't have to worry. As long as you don't try anything, I won't release the video."

"But let me give you some advice. I've made backup plans. I've uploaded everything to an overseas server using an anonymous phone number and alternate IPs. The files are on a timed release."

"If anything happens to me—an accident, an arrest, anything—and that timer isn't manually stopped…"

He trailed off, letting the implications hang in the air.

If Eriri dared retaliate, her theft of Kasumigaoka Utaha's… belongings… would be exposed.

The proud heiress. The icy muse. Caught red-handed.

She'd be ruined.

"Damn it… disgusting freak…"

Eriri nodded through gritted teeth, seething inside.

Yes, Yoru had humiliated her. Crossed lines he never should have.

But all she wanted now was for him to accept her apology, take the money, talk to Utaha, and delete that video.

Yoru, for his part, didn't think this revenge was anywhere near enough.

He still hadn't opened the golden chest hovering over her.

'Guess I'll toy with her a bit more.'

He packed up his bag, looking like he was about to leave.

"Hurry up and get out…"

Eriri pointed toward the door, desperate to be rid of him.

"Sawamura-san, you're so cute. I don't really want to leave. Can we be friends?"

He said it with mock affection.

"Urk—"

Eriri almost gagged.

A creepy loser like him, asking her to be friends?

Was he delusional?

She hadn't realized yet that Yoru was just messing with her now.

"Sure."

Eriri nodded just to get him to leave faster.

"Then I'll be going."

Yoru walked to the door, unlocked it, and placed his hand on the knob.

Eriri, watching him, felt a wave of relief.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Creak—

He gently opened the door and walked out. His figure vanished.

She collapsed, unable to hold back anymore. All her emotions—fear, rage, shame, relief—came crashing down.

And then—

Yoru suddenly reappeared.

She choked in shock, coughing violently, unable to believe it.

Why the hell is he back again?!

Turns out… physical proximity helps open treasure chests faster.

If this golden chest held anything good, Yoru was determined—he wouldn't let Eriri off so easily.

"Sawamura, I want to play a game with you."

After re-entering the room, Yoru locked the door again.

Eriri's heart skipped a beat. Her legs went weak as she stood barefoot on the floor.

This disgusting loser had just barged into her home, humiliated her, and forced her to confess while recording everything.

He said he would leave, but now he was back—and he'd locked the door!

"You just want my body! You're just here to bully me! To threaten me!"

"Gross, you pervert, degenerate, go die!"

Eriri screamed and charged at him, kicking out in a desperate act of resistance.

Physical attack?

Or maybe magical—trying to kill Yoru with sheer odor of her feet. The latter might've had a better chance.

"King's Game. Like rock-paper-scissors. Winner gives the order. Want to play?"

Yoru caught her kick and casually brushed it aside.

"Never! I'm not playing… ugh…"

Falling to the ground, Eriri sobbed. Her nerves were shattered. She couldn't take much more of this mental torture.

And now Yoru wanted to gamble—give her a 50% shot.

"As friends, playing games is normal, right?" Yoru said.

"…Fine. But no cheating. And nothing too crazy. I'll play."

Choking back tears, Eriri had no choice but to go along with him.

"Alright then. Rock, paper, scissors!"

Yoru threw paper.

Eriri, thrilled, threw scissors!

She froze, stunned for a few seconds, then climbed to her feet and triumphantly declared, "I win! I order you to leave my house right now!"

She stared warily at him, swallowing nervously.

"Hmm?"

"You lost, Sawamura. I give the order."

Yoru pointed at himself calmly.

"What nonsense? You threw paper, I had scissors! I won! You're cheating!"

She glared, furious.

"No, I won…"

"My rule is that paper wraps scissors. So paper wins. You lose."

Yoru said it with a straight face, shamelessly.

"My command: You're my servant now. Start by giving me a foot massage."

"You scum! I'll kill you! You lied to me!"

"You didn't ask about the rules. That's on you."

Yoru sneered to himself as he monitored the progress bar on the golden chest.

Any surprises inside?

He had no intention of letting this arrogant half-blooded golden-haired bitch off easily.

He'd wanted to destroy her from the very start.

Leave a deep scar in her mind—a nightmare she'd carry for the rest of her life.