A full month had passed since Haruto claimed the seat of District Manager.
In that time, his grip on the underworld had tightened into a silent, unshakeable iron fist. Not a single soul in the syndicate had caught wind of his real identity; to the hundreds of thugs, capos, and street dealers, his identity was completely synonymous with the cold, intimidating tactical mask he wore everywhere.
Even Toya, operating in the dark, had no inkling that his mysterious companion had risen to become a District-level overlord.
Haruto used every waking hour to ruthlessly grind and improve his stats, sharpening his combat abilities, pushing his limits, and keeping his presence invisible to any prying eyes.
During his meticulous oversight, he had uncovered the financial bedrock of his position. As District Manager, the tribute collected from the lower tiers brought in roughly 10,000 credits every single day.
But running a massive criminal network wasn't cheap—90% of those funds went straight back into maintaining gang operations, paying off enforcers, and covering territory expenses.
That left Haruto with a neat 1,000 credits daily straight into his personal pocket—a solid payday, but still not enough to break the financial barrier he needed for his ultimate communication tech goals.
Worse still was his mandatory quota with Newlax. Every ten days, Haruto was required to report directly to the Level 25 overlord with targets or proof of elimination.
Instead of executing the high-ranking officers Newlax kept ordering him to hunt, Haruto had quietly diverted every single one of them, stashing them away safely in hidden, secure safe houses alongside the first officer he captured. None of them had seen the light of day, but all of them were alive, hidden right under Newlax's bloodshot nose.
Amidst this routine of double-dealing and silent level-grinding, Haruto caught wind of an odd detail: Toya had taken up a part-time job working as a waiter at a local hotel.
Toya had even casually nudged Haruto to pick up a shift there too, but Haruto had flatly refused without a second thought. He had an empire to run, a territory to subvert, and a war to win—he didn't have time to play waiter.
Within just a single month, absolute chaos had gripped the city. Four high-ranking police officers had completely vanished off the face of the earth, driving the public to the brink of mass panic. A thick, suffocating atmosphere of fear choked the streets, sending crime rates soaring by 78% in certain sectors.
Yet, amidst the rampant lawlessness, one strange rule stood untouched: not a single woman or child had been harmed, thanks to the iron law Haruto had laid down across his district.
Even so, illegal smuggling had skyrocketed, and the citizens lived in perpetual terror, too afraid to even beef up their home security lest they draw the wrong kind of attention. With the upper echelons of the police force utterly gutted and missing its key commanders, law enforcement was completely paralyzed, leaving no one left to take charge.
Deep within his private quarters, Haruto sat alone in the dim blue glow of his interface, checking his financial ledger. Thirty days of skimming 1,000 credits a day had finally added up.
30,000 credits.
He reached into his storage compartment and pulled out the advanced, high-tech piece of hardware he had been eyeing: a futuristic hacker-grade device equipped with a 3D holographic projection system capable of breaking through localized firewalls and overriding network controls.
He stared down at the sleek gadget, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Despite having the funds and the hardware, a bitter feeling of disappointment settled in his chest. Over the entire month of managing the district, running safe houses, and juggling his double life, he hadn't managed to level up even once.
His stats were completely locked in place, reminding him that playing mob boss from a throne wasn't the same as truly growing stronger.
The bad news didn't stop at just being stuck at a level plateau. As Haruto tested his combat skills, he made a startling discovery: all of his active magic spells, flashes, and special movement skills were completely gone.
Worse still, the unique aura swirling around him—once a striking balance of dark creation and pure nothingness—had mysteriously shifted into a dull, flat blue hue.
Haruto instantly understood that his system had been heavily tampered with or forcefully rewritten from the outside.
Yet, despite the terrifying loss of his magic, his raw adaptability was still firing on all cylinders, and his physical healing factor remained untouched—meaning as long as an incoming attack didn't rely on magic, his body could still instantly bounce back and heal from raw physical damage.
Late one night, Haruto decided to check in on one of his hidden safe houses. He swiped his access card and slid open the door, expecting to find a tense, terrified group of high-ranking officers locked in misery.
Instead, he froze dead in his tracks.
The living room smelled faintly of herbal shampoo. The captured female officers were casually gathered around a low table, sipping hot tea and watching a late-night broadcast on the TV. They looked entirely too comfortable, practically turning his high-security safe house into a vacation retreat.
Haruto's eye twitched beneath his mask. He stared at them in utter disbelief, his voice dropping an octave. "Get some proper clothes on right now. What do you think you're doing?! I kidnapped you!"
One of the officers casually kicked back in her plush chair, offering a dry, unbothered smirk. "Oh, please. These night-dresses and comfort items were literally provided by you.
And honestly, considering how overworked we were back at headquarters, this place isn't far off from heaven. Sure, it's not a five-star luxury resort, but we aren't complaining."
"If anyone else was holding you, you'd already be dead," Haruto growled, crossing his arms.
Another officer chuckled softly, pointing at the screen. "Relax, we know you're just putting on a tough act for your own safety."
Without missing a beat, they casually patted the empty spot on the sofa beside them, gesturing for him to sit down. "Come on, take a break. You can even take that creepy mask off if you want."
"No, thanks," Haruto muttered stiffly.
"Suit yourself," the first officer shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. Then, her expression turned slightly more serious.
"Anyway, since you've practically become our weird landlord over the last five days, let me give you a piece of advice. It hasn't hit the public news networks yet, but Echo is starting to blow up inside the police database.
Apparently, you got caught on a street camera beating down a bunch of thugs a few days ago."
Haruto stiffened slightly. "Ah... I'm aware." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Besides, Newlax summoned me for a briefing today anyway. I need to go see what he wants."
Haruto stepped out, pulling the heavy steel door shut and locking it securely from the outside. Honestly, this had basically become their daily routine.
For the first day or two after being locked up, the officers would panic, but eventually, they'd settle in and actually start enjoying the break—using the funds Haruto skimmed from the syndicate's management budget to buy luxury items like hair dryers, imported shampoo, and comfortable lounging gear.
Even though they were mothers of two, Haruto didn't really care anymore; as long as they stayed locked away and safe from Newlax, it kept his operation running smoothly.
Before he could head off to his mandatory meeting with Newlax, Rocky intercepted him.
"Echo-sir! Quick, come with me," Rocky urged, guiding him down into the underground training ring—the very same hideout where Haruto had started his climb.
As they stepped into the dim, blood-stained arena, Rocky beamed with pride. "Look, I brought you a present!"
Haruto glanced across the ring and stopped cold. Three heavily beaten, battered men were tied up and groveling on the concrete floor, whimpering in pain. Haruto crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes behind his mask. "What is the meaning of this?"
Rocky's expression turned grim, all traces of his playful grin vanishing. "Remember your absolute rule, sir? No harming women or children. Well, these scumbags broke it. They targeted a mother and her young daughter in the lower sectors and assaulted them."
Haruto's blood ran cold. The ambient temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. He stared at the bruised men, his voice dangerously low. "And the mother and daughter... where are they?"
Rocky lowered his gaze, his voice cracking slightly with uncharacteristic heavy guilt. "They... they didn't make it, sir. The bastards killed them both.
The husband went to the local precinct, but the corrupt cops blew him off because these guys covered their tracks. But we tracked them down ourselves and dragged them here."
Haruto stared down at the trembling men for a long, heavy moment before letting out a flat, indifferent sigh.
"Let them go," Haruto said casually.
Rocky blinked in sheer disbelief, his eyes widening behind his mask. "What?! Let them go, sir? But... What about your absolute rule? They broke it!"
Haruto patted one of the men heavily on the shoulder, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Look around us. The world's population is massive.
Losing two people doesn't change the grand scheme of things. Just... live your life, enjoy what you have, and don't ruin other people's lives for no reason."
Without waiting for Rocky to argue, Haruto turned his back. "Anyway, we're done here. I'm heading out."
"Wait, sir!" Rocky called out, quickly shaking off his shock. "Before you go—the Underground Ring is stepping up its tier. We're moving from Level 1 matches to Level 2."
Haruto paused, glancing back slightly. "When?"
"Tomorrow night," Rocky said, his voice turning serious. "Only this time, the crowd is going to be massive. It's not just local gang-level brawls anymore; this is full-scale sector-level combat."
Haruto adjusted his tactical mask, a cold, confident smirk forming underneath. "As long as I keep this mask on and nobody sees my face, I don't care who's watching."
With that final remark, Haruto turned and walked out of the arena.
Behind him, as the guards cut the ropes, the three beaten thugs let out collective gasps of relief. Thinking they had completely dodged a death sentence, they started snickering maliciously as they staggered to their feet, muttering under their breath.
"See? The big boss himself said let us go—"
Before they could even take a step toward the exit, Rocky stepped directly into their path, his expression like stone.
The thugs froze, a fresh wave of terror hitting them. "B-Boss said let us go...!"
"Yeah, the District Manager has his rules, and he chose to spare you," Rocky whispered, his voice dangerously low as he cracked his knuckles. "And I would never break his rules. so never ever break his rule again."
As the sounds of muffled laughter echoed behind him in the subterranean ring, Haruto left the underground entirely, striding out into the open streets and heading straight toward Newlax's private luxury villa for his mandatory briefing.