My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 329: 329. Ren Gets a Blanket and a Story. I Get the Points

The walk from the house to the transit stop was swallowed by a heavy, contemplative silence. It wasn’t an awkward quiet, but rather the dense, pressurized stillness that follows a massive emotional or physical upheaval—the kind of silence that exists between two people who have just shared a secret that could burn the world down.

They moved in sync, a rhythmic footfall on the pavement, the cool night air acting as a balm to the lingering heat of the evening.

When they reached the stop, they drifted to opposite ends of the metal bench. The streetlamps cast long, distorted shadows that stretched across the asphalt like reaching fingers.

The bus was late, a common occurrence at this hour, and the wait forced them into a shared, solitary space. The air between them was thick, still vibrating with the memory of the sweat, the whispered gasps, and the sheer, reckless adrenaline of their affair.

Mike leaned back, his massive frame making the bench groan under his weight. He watched the dark horizon, his mind still partially anchored to the kitchen, to Ellie’s eyes, and to the primal intensity of the night.

"Ren is going to be very confused tomorrow," Haruka said, her voice cutting through the hum of the distant city.

She was staring at her hands, her fingers tracing the hem of her sleeve as if trying to ground herself in reality.

"He’ll have the story, though," Mike replied, his voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to anchor the drifting moment.

Haruka turned her head, her eyes searching his in the dim light. "The story?"

"The story of the man who ended up in a District 5 kitchen in Erosyne City, accidentally drank three bottles of wine with a stranger, and woke up with a blanket on his chest," Mike said, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "He’ll tell it at full volume, with far too much dramatic flair, and it’ll be slightly too long."

"He’ll make himself sound like a tragic hero in a comedy of errors."

Haruka stared at him, the absurdity of it finally hitting her. A small, tired laugh escaped her.

"Yes," she whispered. "That is exactly what will happen."

"He’ll turn a drunken stupor into an epic saga."

Mike shifted his gaze to her, his expression turning more observant, more piercing. He had been wondering about the logistics of her departure.

"Why are you coming home, Haruka?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense. "Ren is still in Stanley’s house."

"He’s practically part of the furniture right now."

"You could have stayed or you could have waited for the sun to come up."

Haruka looked away, her gaze fixed on the empty street.

"Because," she said, her voice softening, "if I stay, there’s a chance I’ll do something reckless. Or worse... there’s a chance he’ll wake up."

"And if Ren wakes up and finds the bed empty or senses the... the aftermath... he’ll start asking questions. And right now, the last thing the world needs is a sober Ren trying to rationalize the energy in this house."

She paused, a small, private smile touching her lips. "Besides, if I stay, I might not be able to leave."

"And I need to go home and pretend that my heart isn’t still hammering against my ribs from the way you looked at us in that kitchen."

Mike felt a jolt of recognition, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that still hummed between them. He didn’t answer, but the way his gaze lingered on her said more than words ever could.

A pair of headlights finally cut through the darkness, the low groan of the approaching bus breaking the spell. The light washed over them, harsh and revealing, pulling them back from the shadows of their shared secrets and into the mundane reality of the night.

Haruka stared at the approaching vehicle for a moment, her expression unreadable.

"Yes," she said, her voice firming up as she stood to meet the bus. "That’s exactly what will happen."

The bus groaned into the station, a lumbering beast of metal and dim yellow light that seemed to exhale a weary sigh as the doors hissed open. They boarded in silence and the rhythmic thump of their footsteps on the floorboards echoed the heavy, synchronized beat of their hearts.

As they settled into the seats, they fell into their usual, practiced configuration: seated near one another, close enough to feel the radiant heat of the other’s body, but maintaining a sliver of space, a distance that wasn’t born of awkwardness but of a profound, chosen intimacy. It was the proximity of two people who had seen the raw, unvarnished truth of each other and knew exactly how much tension a single inch of air could hold.

The city blurred past the windows in a smear of neon and shadow. Haruka stared out at the passing lights, her reflection in the glass looking haunted yet electrified, while Mike sat like a monolith, his large frame absorbing the vibrations of the engine.

They disembarked at the Harwick Lane stop, the cool night air hitting them like a physical weight. They walked the final block toward the Schneider building in a shared, heavy silence, their shadows stretching out before them, merging and separating on the pavement.

When they reached the stairs, the ascent felt more momentous than it should have, each step a transition from the wild, lawless adrenaline of the night back into the structured reality of their lives.

They stopped in the dim, narrow hallway of the second floor, standing before their respective doors. The air between them was thick, charged with the lingering scent of skin, wine, and the unspoken promise of what had just transpired.

"Goodnight, Mike," Haruka said. Her voice was a mere thread of sound, fragile yet certain.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his one last time, perhaps looking for a sign of the man who had just helped her lose herself in the chaos.

"Goodnight," Mike replied. His voice was a low, grounding rumble, a solid anchor in the quiet hallway.

She turned and slipped into her apartment, the soft click of the latch sounding like a final punctuation mark. Mike stood there for a heartbeat, the silence of the hallway pressing in on him, before he reached for his own door.

The moment he stepped into the dimness of Unit 6, the phantom sensation of the night, the heat of Ellie’s skin, and the frantic pulse of Haruka’s neck seemed to coalesce into a single, sharp pressure in his mind. He pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen’s artificial glare cutting through the darkness.

The system notification, which had been hovering in the periphery of his consciousness since the garden, since the moment the first drop of sweat hit the kitchen floor, finally surged to the forefront.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: UNPRECEDENTED PERFORMANCE DETECTED.]

[ELLIE HARPER: MAXIMUM BOND CONFIRMED.]

[HARUKA KANATA: MAXIMUM BOND CONFIRMED.]

[DESIRE ENERGY POINTS: +1,000. +1,000. TOTAL THIS EVENING: 2,000.]

[DOLLAH BONUS: +100,000. +100,000.]

[SYSTEM COMMENTARY: TWO MAXIMUM BONDS IN A SINGLE NIGHT? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WE AREN’T EVEN GOING TO TRY TO BE PROFESSIONAL ABOUT THIS. WE ARE JUST GOING TO GIVE YOU THE POINTS. TAKE THE DAMN MONEY, YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER.]

Mike stared at the glowing text, the numbers scrolling past like a high-stakes scoreboard. The sheer scale of the windfall, the sheer power he had just harvested from the raw, uninhibited passion of those two women, sent a silent, predatory thrill through his veins.

He had played the game, and he had won it with a brutal, magnificent efficiency.

He let out a slow, controlled breath and set the phone face down on the nightstand. The silence of the apartment was absolute.

He lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling of Unit 6, his eyes fixing on the familiar, jagged water stain in the far corner, a permanent fixture of his existence since day one.

’Two in one night,’ he thought, a dark, satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. ’Not bad.’

"Right," he whispered to the empty room, the word a quiet acknowledgement of his dominance, a seal on the madness of the evening.

Then, as the adrenaline finally began to ebb, leaving only the heavy, satisfied ache of a man who had conquered everything in his path, he closed his eyes.

He slept.