Renji's brows creased, full of confusion, his heart pounding now not just from the surprise but from the intensity of her proximity. "What are you talking about? Let go of me!"

She didn't budge, her slender hourglass figure molded against him in a way that was both intimidating and distractingly alluring.

Her eyes narrowed, catching the way his gaze involuntarily dipped downward.

"You think you're very clever, huh? I know exactly what you're trying to do. I've seen the way you look at Mrs. Hoshizawa. You look at her like she's some prize you're scheming to claim."

She paused, her lips curling into a sneer as she noticed his eyes fall. "And now you're looking at me the same way, you shameless pervert."

Renji swallowed hard, trying to regain composure. "I don't—"

"The last guy might have pegged you for just wanting her money," Akira cut him off, her tone dripping with disdain, "but I see right through you. I know what you really want."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Renji grunted.

She pressed into his chest. "You want to fuck her, don't you? You want to fuck a happily married woman."

Renji's eyes widened. The hell? How does she know?

Her words hung in the air like a slap, crude and unfiltered, designed to rattle him.

Before he could form a retort, her hand darted down, delivering a sharp slap to his cock through his pants.

The sting shot through him, making him gasp and double over slightly, though her hold kept him upright.

"Better keep it in your pants," she warned, "because as long as I'm with Mrs. Hoshizawa, you're never laying a finger on her. Got it?"

She held his gaze for a long, searing moment, her glare piercing like ice shards, then abruptly released him.

With a final contemptuous huff, she turned and strode away, her shoes clicking sharply on the pavement as she disappeared around the corner.

Renji slumped against the wall, staring after her in stunned silence, his cheek scraped from the brick, and his balls throbbing with humiliation.

All of his mind was racing with how weird of an encounter that was.

Scratch whatever he'd thought before, this female bodyguard was going to be infinitely worse than Hideo.

She wasn't just protective; she was batshit crazy, unhinged in her assumptions and aggressive in her methods.

And worst of all, she was squarely in his way, a formidable barrier between him and Hana.

Renji was right before. He had to get her out of the picture fast!

But across town, there was another problem that needed to be handled fast as well, one that would surely tighten the noose around him.

Hideo was back in Renji's apartment building. He loitered in the hallway, the white light from the ceiling bulbs casting his nervous shadow on the floor.

He wore a black attire that made him blend into the shadows like a specter. Yesterday, there had been a strange-looking woman here, dressed in scanty clothes. Was that a maid or something?

Whatever. That was a slight hiccup. He was going to get it done today. That was exactly why he had come back.

He was driven by his obsessive hunch. Now, his hand was hovering over the door handle to Renji's apartment.

He twisted it gently, testing for entry. But then, a voice shattered the quiet: "Who the fuck are you?"

Hideo froze, his pulse spiking as he turned sharply to his right.

There stood a figure that was very familiar. Yes! He'd seen this boy before. It was the sketchy kid from the degenerate alley, where the outcasts were.

It's that same kid he'd spied Renji handing money to just days ago. The kid looked rough around the edges, with disheveled hair and a hoodie that had seen better days, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Uhm, nothing," Hideo replied quickly, forcing a casual tone. "Just entering my apartment."

Bunji crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with a smirk. "You're lying. That's Renji's apartment."

Hideo grimaced. He'd been caught, but he couldn't back down now; this could be a lead. "Alright, fine," he admitted, straightening up. "But this proves that you do know Renji Kenshiro, and you two have been involved in something illegal."

Bunji let out a bark of laughter, echoing faintly in the narrow hall. "What are you talking about, huh? Are you a cop or something?"

Hideo hesitated, glancing down at his stealthy outfit: dark jacket, nondescript pants, the whole undercover vibe.

He decided to lean into it. "Yeah, I'm a cop. And I'm looking for proof that Renji intentionally staged a bike accident to harm an influential woman."

He locked eyes with Bunji, recalling the cash exchange vividly. "I remember seeing Renji give you some money, so would you happen to know anything about that? Like where the bike is, or the rider?"

Bunji stared back, his expression shifting from amusement to guarded blankness. He scratched at his chin, weighing the words. "I have no idea what you're talking about, unc. I'm just here to speak to Renji, my pal."

Hideo glared, frustration gnawing at him. 'Unc? Did he just call me unc?!!'

He was still for a while, thinking of what to do. He knew he couldn't push too hard. He didn't have a badge with him and he had no real authority here.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, thrusting it toward Bunji. "Fine. But if you help me, I'll make it worth your while. 20 thousand yen, easy."

He pretended to be thinking, knowing that this information would make Bunji worried, he decided to reveal it.

"That Renji kid has been hanging out with Sergeant Miyako Endo, even hitching rides with her. I don't know his play, but I have to stop that conniving kid."

Pausing for effect, he added, "Call me if you think of anything." With that, he turned and slipped down the hallway, his footsteps fading into the night.

Bunji remained rooted in place, flipping the card between his fingers as he stared at it under the flickering light.

His gaze drifted to Renji's door, a mix of curiosity and concern creasing his brow. Then he chuckled, almost like he was amused by Renji's unknown endeavors.

What the hell have you been up to, Renny boy?

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