Chapter 5: Crimson Gala
The grand exhibition hall of Tokyo Metropolitan University was a sea of shimmering glass, velvet drapes, and the oppressive drone of thousands of high-society voices. Neon lights from the overhead tracks cast geometric hues of electric blue and violet over the crowd, turning the annual campus gala into a stylized masquerade.
I stood behind the heavy oak desk of the student council booth, smoothly sorting through stack after stack of financial receipt clipboards. My movement was deliberately average. I used exactly enough force to flip the pages without making a sound. My posture was completely relaxed, balanced, and calm. To the passing professors and wealthy donors, Ren Kurogane was simply the efficient, quiet treasurer who could handle multi-million-yen club budgets without breaking a sweat.
But keeping absolute physical power hidden in a room this crowded was a relentless mental exercise. With every step I took across the polished marble floor, my mind had to manually dial down my explosive reflexes, ensuring my feet applied just enough pressure to simulate the heavy, unathletic stride of a regular college student. My absolute sensory control was dialed up to a razor-edge. I could hear the exact pitch of the violin strings across the hall, the clinking of champagne flutes sixty meters away, and the rhythmic, terrifyingly synchronized footsteps closing in on my coordinates.
"Ren! There you are!"
A cheerful, oblivious voice shattered the low hum of the room.
I looked up to see Haruto Kirishima jogging toward my booth. The original protagonist of "Unveiling the Neon Hearts" was wearing a borrowed suit that was noticeably too short at the wrists, and his left shoe still bore a faint, shiny streak from the supermarket superglue his sister had warned me about. He looked thoroughly ordinary, completely relaxed, and entirely blind to the narrative shifting beneath his feet.
"Haruto," I greeted him with a calm, friendly smile, setting down my pen. "Did you manage to find the drama club representative?"
"Yeah, they agreed to the budget adjustments," Haruto laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the side of my booth. "Man, this place is crazy packed. By the way, thanks for transferring those sneaker funds to my account this morning. You’re a lifesaver, seriously. I owe you one."
You have no idea, I thought, keeping my expression perfectly even. Your entire destined harem is currently ignoring you to track down my missing seconds, and your sister is currently guarding my apartment like a sentinel.
"Don’t worry about it," I said aloud. "Just make sure you keep the receipts this time."
"Will do!" Haruto chirped, reaching into his pocket. "Oh, also, Karen finally texted me back. She said she’s staying at a friend’s place to study for the prep exams all weekend. It’s weird, though. Her friend’s area code is exactly the same as your luxury district. Small world, right?"
Before I could craft a perfectly boring response to derail his train of thought, the heavy double doors at the main entrance of the exhibition hall swung open.
The low chatter of the crowd died down instantly. A collective hush washed over the room as a dozen private security guards in dark suits moved forward, clearing a wide, sweeping path through the center of the hall.
Walking down the middle of the corridor was Aria Shirayuki.
She looked absolutely magnificent, wearing a tailored, deep-burgundy evening gown that contrasted beautifully with her flowing, rich-brown hair. Her face carried that familiar, pristine, untouchable coldness that made the surrounding sons of billionaires hesitate to even breathe in her direction. But as her heterochromatic eyes scanned the room, the coldness vanished, replaced by a sharp, predatory focus.
She wasn’t looking at the VIP section. She wasn’t looking at Haruto, who was currently waving at her like an eager idiot from across the room.
Her sapphire and crimson eyes locked directly onto me.
Aria ignored Haruto’s wave entirely, walking straight past him until she stopped directly in front of my student council booth. The intense scent of her expensive French perfume filled the air, instantly triggering a memory of her leaning over my desk in the council room.
"Treasurer Kurogane," Aria said, her voice dropping to a smooth, elegant melody that sent a visible shiver through the student council clerk sitting behind me. Her lips curled into a sly, knowing smile. "You look remarkably composed tonight. I half-expected you to have another sudden... stomach ache."
"The campus gala is mandatory for the finance committee, President Shirayuki," I replied smoothly, my voice maintaining the calm, polite tone of a dedicated student. My heart rate remained perfectly flat at sixty beats per minute. "I wouldn’t dare miss your opening remarks."
"Is that so?" Aria leaned closer, resting her gloved hands on the edge of the mahogany desk. Her brown hair brushed against the wood as she lowered her voice so only I could hear. "Because my private security team spent the entire night analyzing the regional traffic logs. They found a very peculiar detail, Ren. A matte-black sedan registered to your family estate left an apartment complex exactly four minutes before the digital cameras in that sector were hit by a catastrophic server wipe. The exact same wipe that occurred when my savior rescued me from the north gate ambush."
I met her intense gaze without flinching. "The city’s electrical grid has been unstable due to the heavy rain, President. I’m sure the infrastructure committee is looking into it."
"We aren’t looking into the grid, Ren," Aria whispered, her crimson eye glowing with a deep, suffocating warmth that made the air in the booth feel dangerously thin. "We are looking into you. The classmates who saw you vanish from the fountain have already signed non-disclosure agreements with my family’s firm. I am erasing your mistakes, my quiet treasurer. But in return... you are going to tell me exactly how a finance major moves faster than a camera can record."
Before I could formulate an answer, a sudden, blinding flash of light erupted from the giant projection screen mounted above the main stage.
The university’s promotional video suddenly cut to black. The speakers hissed with a heavy burst of static before a clean, digitized interface overrode the entire system. A sleek, green-and-black command line began to scroll down the screen at supersonic speed, drawing the attention of every guest in the hall.
"The registry data she’s using is a forged copy, Ren," a flat, monotone voice suddenly vibrated through the audio speakers of the grand hall, completely overriding the live orchestra. It was Chloe Valentine.
The projection screen split into two halves. On the left was Aria’s private security database; on the right was a live, shifting simulation of the university’s power grid.
"I adjusted the campus server security three minutes ago," Chloe’s voice continued lazily through the surround-sound system, sending the university tech staff into a full panic as they scrambled toward the control booth. "Aria Shirayuki’s team doesn’t have the decryption keys to trace your vehicle anymore. I deleted the backup files from her family’s corporate mainframe. You don’t need to answer her questions, Ren. A corporate tiger shouldn’t be allowed to put a leash on a ghost."
Aria’s expression hardened instantly. She spun around, staring at the projection screen with a cold, murderous fury. Her security team immediately pulled out their phones, frantically trying to regain control of their communication network, but every device in their hands was locked into a permanent reboot cycle.
"You digital rat," Aria hissed under her breath.
"I am not a rat. I am the one who keeps him hidden," Chloe’s voice echoed through the speakers one last time before the projection screen shifted to a high-definition image of my current booth. A small, red targeting reticle hovered directly over my head. "The blonde underclassman is currently moving through the western service corridor, Ren. She has an untraceable thermal blade hidden in her petition clipboard. Leave the booth. Now."
Click.
The screen went dark, and the audio system completely died, leaving the massive hall in a heavy, suffocating silence.
"Wow," Haruto muttered from the side, blinking at the dead screen. "The university’s tech club really needs to upgrade their firewalls. Hey, Ren, do you think that was a prank by the rival college?"
I didn’t answer him. My enhanced ears had already caught the faint, rhythmic scraping of leather shoes from the shadow of the velvet curtains near the western exit.
Moving with a casual, unassuming stride, Mia Asakura emerged from the service hallway. She was wearing her university uniform, her blonde twin tails swaying gently as she held a plastic clipboard against her chest. Her face carried a bright, bubbly smile, but as her eyes locked onto Aria standing at my booth, the cheerfulness completely vanished. The light left her pupils, leaving two dark, bottomless voids of pure, possessive jealousy.
"President Shirayuki," Mia chirped loudly, her voice echoing through the quiet hall as she walked toward us. "The security team said the western corridor is off-limits for civilians. Why are you clustering around the treasurer’s desk? Aren’t you supposed to be preparing your speech?"
Aria turned back around, her posture elegant but completely rigid as her hand subtly signaled her guards to stand down. "The student council finances are my concern, Asakura-san. You should return to your department."
"But Senpai looks so overwhelmed," Mia said, stopping right next to Haruto, completely ignoring the original protagonist as she reached out to lean over my desk. Her clipboard shifted slightly, and my absolute sensory control caught the faint, metallic scent of highly condensed titanium alloy concealed inside the plastic lining. A weapon meant for silent extraction. "I think Senpai needs to take a break. I can help him carry his files to the staff room. Alone."
"He isn’t going to the staff room," a quiet, chilling whisper sounded from the dark alcove directly behind my booth.
The velvet drapes parted smoothly, and Kaguya Hayashi stepped into the light. Her midnight-black hair and straight bangs were perfectly arranged, her traditional leather gloves contrasting sharply with the pristine fabric of her school blazer. Her crimson eyes didn’t look at Aria, Chloe’s dead screen, or Mia’s hidden blade. They were fixed entirely on my legs, tracking the perfect, motionless balance of my stance.
"The wind in this hall is crowded with lies," Kaguya murmured, her voice barely carrying over the murmurs of the surrounding crowd. She stopped three feet from my chair, her hand resting naturally near her side sleeve. "The corporate heiress uses paper. The hacker uses glass. The little girl uses steel. But none of you can hold a man who can step through the air without leaving a footprint. Ren Kurogane... the cedar scent in your apartment matches the wind at the docks. The game of hide-and-seek is officially over."
Haruto blinked, looking from Aria to Mia, then to Kaguya, and finally to me. He scratched his cheek, a look of profound, comical confusion on his face. "Uh... Ren? I didn’t know you were so popular with the student council. Do you guys have a secret finance meeting or something? Should I leave?"
"Yes, Kirishima-san. You should leave," Aria said, her voice dropping to a sharp, authoritative snap that made Haruto take a step back.
"Yeah, Haruto-kun, go buy some juice or something," Mia giggled, though her eyes remained violently fixed on Kaguya.
I sat in the center of the four-way intersection of killing intent, slowly closing my notebook and capping my fountain pen with a clean, deliberate click.
My hidden physical power could shatter the floor beneath us, collapse the roof of the exhibition hall, and allow me to exit the campus premises at Mach 2 before any of their jammers or assassins could even register my movement. I was strong enough to face an entire underworld syndicate by myself.
But as Aria’s hand subtly moved toward her security radio, Mia’s fingers tightened on her hidden blade, Kaguya’s crimson eyes tracked my every muscle fibers, and the overhead air vents suddenly began to hum with a manual override sequence from Chloe’s remote server, I realized that absolute strength was entirely useless against a collective, terrifying obsession.
They didn’t want to break the world. They wanted to build a beautiful, indestructible cage around me, and they had finally connected every single one of my disappearing acts to the face of the quiet treasurer sitting right in front of them.
"The gala opening is about to begin," I said calmly, standing up from my chair with a perfectly relaxed, unbothered posture. I looked at the four dangerous, powerful girls who had completely ignored the original protagonist to lock their sights on a background character. "If we’re going to discuss the budget, I suggest we find a quieter room."
Aria’s sly smile returned, darker and more intense than before. Mia’s twin tails bounced as she stepped closer, her hand resting on my desk. Kaguya’s shadow lengthened against the marble floor, and the terminal on my phone flashed one final line of text from Chloe: [I’ve already locked the doors to the private conference room upstream. No one else is coming in, Ren.]
I looked at Haruto, who was still looking for his misplaced backpack strap, completely oblivious to the fact that his entire story had been beautifully, violently rewritten.
I built this world to be a simple urban fantasy. But as I walked out of the booth, surrounded by four crimson shadows that refused to let me disappear ever again, I knew my quiet life was officially over. The hunt had ended, and the capture had just begun.