The door was half hanging off its hinges, cracked wood splintering across the floor. Shards of the broken lock lay scattered like glass, but there was no sign of a struggle, no overturned furniture, no missing valuables. The damage was deliberate—and the one who did it stood in the middle of the room, trembling.

Misa's breath came fast, her chest heaving as she clutched her phone to her ear.

"Pick up… come on, pick up!" she muttered, pacing across the living room. The phone finally clicked, and Amanda's voice came through, calm but sharp.

"Misa? What happened? Why are you calling me this late?"

"He's not here!" Misa shouted before Amanda could say another word. "He's not here, Amanda!"

Amanda's tone shifted instantly. "Okay, okay, calm down. What do you mean he's not there? What's going on?"

"I said he's not here!" Misa's voice cracked as she spun toward the hallway. "He is missing!"

There was a beat of silence on the line. Amanda didn't ask who Misa meant—she already knew. Only one person could make Misa sound this frantic.

Amanda's voice came again, quieter but edged with urgency. "When did you last see him?"

Misa pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to think. "Two hours ago! He called me—he said he was home! He asked about Kyouka's health! He sounded… normal."

"Normal?" Amanda repeated. "And then what?"

"Then nothing! I came over just now because I had a bad feeling—his phone went dead, and when I got here the door was locked from the inside! I had to break it open!"

Amanda sighed softly through the speaker. "You didn't file a police complaint yet, did you?"

Misa froze. "…No. Not yet. That's why I called you. I didn't know what to tell them I wanted to talk to you before them."

"Good," Amanda said. "Don't. Not yet. Now that you told me...we don't need to get law involved."

"Why not? He's missing!"

"Because the police won't let us do half the things we want to do," Amanda said. "They'll treat it like he ran off, or some normal disappearance. We both know how they would treat this case."

Misa's grip tightened around her phone. "You think it's her again, don't you?"

Amanda didn't answer immediately. The silence said more than words could.

"You do," Misa said bitterly. "That woman again… she took him, didn't she? Faceless Woman!"

Amanda exhaled. "I don't know. But whatever it is, we need to track Ren down. Fast and when we do...we need to treat this as we see fit even if it means we are going above law."

"Track him? How?" Misa asked, pacing to the window and peering out into the dark street. The night air outside was heavy, no movement, no sound—just the low hum of distant streetlights.

Amanda's voice turned brisk. "There's a way. I'll explain when I get there. I've got someone with me who can help. Just don't touch anything in the house until I arrive."

"Someone?" Misa frowned. "Who are you bringing?"

"You'll see soon. Stay where you are. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Amanda—"

But the line had already gone dead.

Misa lowered the phone, staring at it blankly before stuffing it into her pocket. She turned in slow circles, scanning the empty house. The air felt wrong—thick, heavy, almost buzzing. The lights flickered once, then steadied.

"Ren…" she whispered.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar. She walked toward it, her bare feet brushing over splinters. Inside, the bed was perfectly clean and nothing looked out of place. But Ren's shoes were missing and Misa noticed one of his best outfit was missing too, along with his phone.

It made no sense.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pound beneath her palm. "Where did you go?"

Her gaze fell on the half-open window. The curtains were fluttering gently, though there was no breeze. She approached slowly, wary, and looked outside. The street below was empty. No cars, no voices, just the distant hum of electricity and the faint rustle of leaves.

But then...she noticed a shadow approaching the house.

Misa spun around. "Amanda? No It cannot be her."

Her pulse quickened. She stepped back into the living room, scanning the door. The main door still hung broken, the night spilling through the gap.

"Hello?" she called softly. "Is someone there?"

Silence again.

She walked closer, her phone still in her hand, thumb hovering over the it...so she can use it as a weapon.

Then she saw it—a faint silhouette standing just beyond the threshold of the broken door. A woman...A girl, motionless, half-shrouded in the dark. Misa froze where she stood.

The figure stepped forward, and the porch light flickered on, illuminating her face.

Long black hair tied loosely behind her neck. Cold, unreadable eyes that glimmered faintly in the light. A faint sign of fear in her eyes, and her posture carried a quiet, deliberate strength.

It took Misa less than a heartbeat to recognize her.

Her breath caught. "You…"

The girl didn't speak. She simply looked at Misa, eyes calm, expression almost detached. There was no hostility, but there was something heavier—something like fear.

Misa's throat went dry. She took one involuntary step back. "Why are you here?"

The girl still said nothing.

"Did you—did you take him? Was it your family?" Misa demanded. "Tell me! Where is Ren?!"

No answer. Only silence, and the faint hum of the porch light.

Misa clenched her fists. "Say something! Don't just stand there!"

The girl tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she moved—just a small step forward—but it was enough to make Misa's instincts scream.

She stumbled backward, bumping into the sofa. "Stay back!"

The woman stopped. Her gaze flicked once to the broken door, then to the phone still in Misa's trembling hand.

And then the woman looked back at her one last time.

That was when Misa finally found her voice.

She whispered the name that sent a shiver through her whole body, her tone filled with both disbelief and dread.

"Lan Meiling...Where's my son?"

***

Ren groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering open as consciousness slowly clawed its way back.

The first sight that greeted him wasn't the unfamiliar ceiling or the sparse furniture—it was her. A naked woman stood by the window, her back turned to him, gazing out at the world beyond.

Ren's breath hitched. From behind, she was a vision of raw beauty. Her long, golden-blonde hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall, stopping just above the curve of her hips. Her skin was flawless, a warm olive tone that glowed under the light, smooth and unmarred. Broad shoulders tapered into a slim waist, flaring out into wide, shapely hips that screamed femininity.

Her ass was perfectly rounded, firm yet inviting, the kind that made his mind wander despite the haze in his head. Long legs stretched down, toned and elegant, ending in delicate feet. She stood with a confident poise, one hand resting on the windowsill, the other idly tracing the glass. It was sexy, almost predatory, like she owned the space—and him.

Ren's eyes went wide, his heart pounding. "What the...?" he muttered under his breath, scanning the room frantically. It looked like a cheap motel—peeling wallpaper, a rickety bed he was lying on, a small table with a lamp. No chains, no guards. But where was he? Last he remembered, he was in that hellhole with Lan Xue's goons.

Before he could piece it together, a jolt shot through his entire body, electric and insistent. He gasped, looking down. There it was—his cock, standing at full attention, harder than he'd ever seen it. Veins bulged along its length like twisted ropes, pulsing angrily. It throbbed with an unnatural intensity, sending waves of heat through him. "Holy shit," Ren whispered, his face flushing. What the hell had they done to him?

The woman turned then, her movements graceful and unhurried. She faced him fully, not a shred of clothing on her, proudly presenting her naked pussy and boobs like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Full breasts heaved slightly with her breath, nipples pert in the cool air. Her stomach was flat, leading down to a neatly trimmed patch above her pussy. She was stunning—high cheekbones, full lips curved in a knowing smile, and eyes like dark pools that seemed to see right through him.

"So, you're awake, Ren Arakawa," she said, her voice smooth and sultry, like velvet over steel.

Ren blinked, his mind racing. Who was she? How did she know his name? Panic surged. Had Xue caught him snooping and sold him off? Was this some twisted buyer in the human trafficking ring? He opened his mouth to demand answers, but she beat him to it, as if reading his thoughts.

"Don't worry, you're not in Lan Xue's clutches anymore," she said, sauntering closer, her hips swaying hypnotically. She stopped at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, still utterly unashamed of her nudity. "I rescued you from that filthy human trafficking den. Snuck in, took out a few guards, and got you out. It's been a few hours since then. You're safe here—for now."

Ren stared, his brain struggling to catch up. "Rescued? By you? Who the are you? And why are you... naked?"

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Call Silver. As for the naked part... well, let's just say it's more comfortable this way. And you? You're not exactly in a position to complain." Her eyes flicked downward, lingering on his raging erection.

Ren shifted uncomfortably, trying to cover himself with the thin sheet, but the movement only made it worse—the fabric brushing against him sent another shockwave through his body. "What did they do to me? This... this isn't normal."

Kira tilted her head, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder. "Oh, that? They Injected you with a massive dose of synthetic testosterone to... prepare you for their clients. Makes you hornier than a cow in heat. But it's dangerous. If it builds up too much, your blood vessels could burst. Literally explode from the pressure."

Ren's eyes widened further. "Explode? You're kidding."

"Not at all," she replied, her tone serious now. She stepped closer, perching on the edge of the bed, her thigh brushing against his leg. The contact was electric, making his cock twitch visibly. "I didn't touch you while you were out. Someone—let's call them a mutual friend—gave me strict orders. No moves without your consent. I'm not like those monsters at Xue's place."

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat radiating from her body. "Mutual friend? Who?"

"Doesn't matter right now," Silver said, waving a hand dismissively. Her gaze dropped again to his throbbing member. "But that... that cannot be good. Look at it—veins popping, ready to snap. You're in real danger, Ren."

He glanced down, wincing. She was right; it looked painful, unnatural. His whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. "So, what do I do? Just wait it out?"

Silver leaned in, her breasts inches from his face, her scent—sweet and intoxicating—filling his nostrils. "You have two choices, handsome. One: keep that thing raging and risk dying from an exploding blood vessel. The testosterone overload could cause a stroke or worse. Or two: we have sex. A lot of it. Until your body flushes out all that injected crap. Sweat it out, release it through... natural means."

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