The V-tuber Who Became Obsessed With Me

Chapter 93: Don’t worry , ojiisan is here

Kuro didn’t say a word.

For the first time since Raina had met him, since the first distorted voice behind a bunny mask and the first anonymous video uploaded under the name X-REVEALS, he simply... stood there.

The room had slipped out of his hands.

Ethan remained standing beside his chair, his eyes moving between Katsuro, the armed men surrounding the warehouse and Kuro himself, as though he was still trying to understand when the evening had stopped making sense. Malcolm had unconsciously taken half a step backward, his jaw tight, his attention fixed on the soldiers occupying every exit. Even Tengu, who had spent the last hour acting as though nothing could shake him, stood rooted to the floor behind the camera, both hands gripping it so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.

Only the quiet hum of the recording equipment remained.

Then Kuro laughed.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t manic.

It was the tired laugh of a man who had spent years preparing for one outcome and had suddenly been handed another.

"I have to admit..." he said, slowly shaking his head beneath the white rabbit mask. "You never disappoint."

His gaze settled on Katsuro.

"You are the only man I’ve ever met who always seems to be ten steps ahead." He let out a long breath before giving a small shrug. "I suppose..."

He chuckled again.

"...I still have a great deal to learn."

"I suppose you do," Katsuro answered calmly.

Nothing more.

No triumph.

No mockery.

Just quiet certainty.

Kuro folded his arms behind his back and slowly began pacing.

"So..." he said, looking around at the soldiers. "What’s the play here?"

He stopped directly beneath one of the ring lights.

"You shoot me?"

His eyes drifted toward one of the cameras.

"Kill me in front of tens of thousands of people?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Even for you, Katsuro Arashigumi..."

"that would be a terrible idea."

"What people?" Katsuro asked.

Kuro frowned.

"The people watching."

"What people watching?"

Uncertainty crossed Kuro’s face.

Katsuro turned his attention toward the camera Tengu was still holding.

"Oh..."

Realization flickered across his features.

"You believe this is streaming live."

Silence.

Not just from Kuro.

From everyone.

Ethan slowly looked toward the monitor displaying the viewer count.

Thirty-eight thousand.

Still climbing.

Malcolm frowned.

Even Raina blinked in confusion.

What was her grandfather talking about?

Tengu swallowed.

Katsuro smiled faintly.

Then, without raising his voice, he looked directly into the camera lens.

"That will do."

Nothing happened.

For a heartbeat.

Then another.

Raina found herself wondering if perhaps—

The monitor suddenly froze.

The viewer count stopped climbing.

The chat window halted in the middle of a sentence.

The scrolling comments became perfectly still, like a photograph.

Every monitor in the streaming setup froze simultaneously.

A sharp electronic beep echoed through the warehouse.

Tengu stared at the screens.

"What?.."

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

Nothing responded.

The cursor refused to move.

The software had become completely unresponsive.

"What the hell..."

Kuro’s head snapped toward him.

"Tengu."

"I..." Tengu tried again, his breathing becoming noticeably quicker. "I don’t know."

He clicked harder.

Nothing.

"I can’t control it."

Kuro strode toward the equipment.

"What do you mean you can’t control it?"

"I mean exactly that."

His voice was beginning to shake.

"The software’s locked."

Kuro grabbed the monitor and stared at the frozen screen.

Thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and twenty-one viewers.

The number never changed.

Not even by one.

Katsuro watched the scene unfold with the patience of a man waiting for children to discover something obvious.

He finally turned toward one of the camouflaged men standing near the entrance.

"You may lower your weapons."

The mercenary nodded immediately.

"Yes, sir."

Within seconds every rifle lowered in perfect unison.

The synchronized movement drew Ethan’s attention immediately.

Not one hesitation.

Not one question.

They obeyed Katsuro as though breathing itself required his permission.

"And untie my granddaughter."

Another soldier stepped forward.

Raina instinctively stiffened before recognizing the man’s uniform.

He crouched beside her.

"You may feel some discomfort, Miss Arashigami."

His voice was respectful.

Nothing more.

The knife flashed once.

clean cut and the ropes fell away. The sensation of blood returning to her hands came as a sharp wave of pins and needles that made her jaw tighten. She stood and her legs nearly went from under her.

Katsuro’s hand came to her shoulder. One brief contact, steady and deliberate, just long enough to keep her upright.

"You’ve done well," he said quietly.

Raina looked up at him.

All the fear she had been forcing down for hours suddenly threatened to rise at once.

"Ojiisan..."

Her voice cracked.

"What..."

She looked around the warehouse, then toward the frozen monitors.

"...what is happening?"

Katsuro’s eyes never left Kuro.

"That," he said calmly,

"is a rather long story."

Four Hours Earlier...

By the time Katsuro Arashigami arrived at the rendezvous point, the warehouse district had already begun disappearing beneath the evening fog.

The mercenaries had done exactly as instructed.

They hadn’t gathered near the building Kuro was using. Instead, they had occupied an abandoned warehouse two lots away, keeping vehicles concealed behind rusting freight containers and broken delivery trucks so nothing about their presence would draw unwanted attention. From the outside, it looked like another forgotten structure waiting to be demolished.

Inside, six armed men stood the moment Katsuro entered.

Their leader stepped forward.

"Mr. Arashigami."

Katsuro acknowledged him with a slight nod before removing his gloves.

"Report."

The man unfolded a rough blueprint of the warehouse onto the bonnet of a pickup truck.

"We’ve completed a discreet reconnaissance."

His finger traced the building’s outline.

"One operative entered through the maintenance ducts approximately twenty minutes ago. He confirmed your granddaughter is inside."

Katsuro’s expression never changed.

"Condition?."

"Tied to a chair. No visible injuries."

He placed both gloves in his coat pocket.

A quiet breath escaped Katsuro.

Good.

"What else?"

Another member of the team stepped forward.

"There are cameras inside."

"CCTV?"

"No, sir."

He shook his head.

"Professional equipment. Two mirrorless cameras mounted on tripods. Ring lights. Audio mixers. Multiple laptops connected together."

He hesitated before finishing.

"It looked less like a kidnapping..."

"...and more like a television studio."

Silence settled over the room.

The other mercenaries exchanged brief glances before looking back toward Katsuro.

He remained completely still.

Then his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"A livestream."

The men looked at him.

"He doesn’t intend to kill her."

The words were spoken so matter-of-factly they sounded less like a theory and more like an observation.

"He has had months to kill her," Katsuro said. "He chose not to. He became a commentator. He built an audience. He spent a year shaping public perception." He looked toward the building across the yard. "And now he installs cameras." He folded the blueprint once and handed it back. "He wants the world to condemn her before she loses anything else. Death is irreversible but reputation can be destroyed and then she has to keep living inside what’s left."

One of the mercenaries shifted. "We move now?"

"No. If we go in now he becomes the victim in his own story." Katsuro reached into his coat for his phone. "We wait until he believes the room is entirely his."

He found the number and called.

Zach picked up immediately. "Please tell me this is good news."

"I need one more thing from you."

The ease in Zach’s voice adjusted itself. "Name it."

"You recruit the finest cybersecurity graduates in Harrington right?."

"We like to think so."

"I require one of them."

There was a brief pause.

"...To do what?"

"I need someone capable of intercepting a livestream before it reaches the public."

Another silence.

Finally—

"That’s considerably less illegal than I was expecting."

Katsuro almost smiled.

"So you can do it."

"I can."

"How soon?"

Zach looked at another screen in his office before answering.

"If she’s where I think she is..."

"then...thirty minutes."

"Send her."

"And Zach."

"Yes?"

"I’ll require additional personnel."

"Already arranged."

"Thirty minutes," Zach said.

"I’ll be waiting."

The call ended.

Thirty-two minutes later a van rolled into the yard. The side door opened and the security contractors climbed out first, four of them, who acknowledged Katsuro with brief nods before taking positions.

Then the last person out stopped everyone’s attention for different reasons.

She could not have been older than twenty-three. Black hair cut to the shoulder. Glasses slightly too large for her face. A hoodie with a university logo that had mostly faded. A backpack that appeared to contain most of her worldly possessions judging by its weight and the way she adjusted it once before looking around the warehouse with the analytical gaze of someone cataloguing a new space.

She was chewing gum with the unmistakable confidence of someone who either didn’t recognise Katsuro Arashigami...or simply didn’t care.

Several armed security contractors stepped out behind her before giving Katsuro respectful bows.

The young woman didn’t.

She looked around the warehouse.

"So..."

"which one of you is the mysterious old guy making me work overtime?"

One of the mercenaries looked horrified.

Katsuro simply stepped forward.

"That would be me."

She looked him up and down.

"Huh."

"I expected... I don’t know..."

"something that isn’t...this "she looked him head to toe

One of the soldiers almost coughed.

Katsuro merely folded his hands behind his back.

"You must be the specialist."

"Depends who’s asking."

"Katsuro Arashigami."

She blinked once.

"Right..."

She adjusted the strap of her backpack again

"Never heard of you ."

Then she pointed toward an empty office overlooking the warehouse floor .

"I need a table, power and as few people standing behind me as possible. People watching over my shoulder slow me down."

One of the mercenaries started to say something.

Katsuro stopped him with a small gesture. "Give her what she needs."

Within minutes the room had been converted into a temporary command centre.

She emptied her backpack across the desk with practiced efficiency.

Two laptops.

A compact keyboard.

Three portable drives.

A folding antenna.

Cables in quantities that suggested she anticipated needing all of them.

She sat down and connected everything without looking at the components, the muscle memory of someone who had done this in worse conditions than a dry warehouse with working power.

When everything was live she cracked her knuckles once and looked at her screen.

"Show me where the stream is hosted."

One of Katsuro’s men pulled up the information on a tablet and set it beside her.

She looked at it for about four seconds.

"I can freeze the viewer count and cut the actual transmission while keeping the interface active on their end. They’ll think they’re broadcasting. They won’t be." She glanced up. "You want this timed to something specific?"

"When I say that will do," Katsuro said.

She looked at him for a moment. Then looked back at her screen.

"I’ll need you to get me a signal from inside the building."

Katsuro looked at the operative who had entered through the maintenance duct. The man produced a small device from his jacket and placed it on the desk beside her.

She picked it up, examined it briefly and plugged it into the third drive.

"Give me twenty minutes."

Katsuro checked his watch.

She had it done in seventeen.

She leaned back in her chair and looked at the screen where the stream feed was now running through her system, the viewer count climbing in real time on one window while a second window showed exactly how it would appear to freeze when she cut it.

"Ready when you are," she said.

Katsuro straightened his coat.

"Then let’s go."

To be continued....