The man in the leather jacket lifted his shirt just enough to reveal the black grip of a pistol tucked into his waistband.
"Open the door and enter," he ordered flatly.
Miyuki froze, her blood turning to ice.
"Hurry, bitch!" He barked.
Her body moved before her mind could—legs weak, hands trembling as she fumbled with the key. "Y-yes…" she stammered, stumbling into the apartment.
The three men followed, shutting the door behind them with a heavy thud. One tossed his jacket onto the couch, and another wandered straight to the fridge like it was his own, pulling out two beer cans and tossing them across the room. The metallic hiss of the tabs echoed as they cracked them open.
Leather Jacket sank into the dining chair, leaning back with his legs spread, eyes fixed on her. "Okay, bitch. Where's the money?"
Miyuki's knees nearly gave out. She scrambled into her bedroom, rifling through the drawer, then came out clutching a bundle of bills with shaking hands. "Here… 100,000 yen."
He flipped through the stack, lips curling. "This is fifty thousand short."
"I-I… I know…" she whispered.
"Speak clearly, bitch."
"My… remaining money… It's not here. But I promise—I'll give it today," she said, voice breaking.
His chair screeched back suddenly as he stood. Before she could react, his hand was around her throat, slamming her against the wall. Her head rattled from the impact, her nails clawing at his wrist as she struggled to breathe.
"I told you… I wanted money by twelve! Didn't I?!" He growled, spit flying onto her cheek.
"Y-yes! I'll… pay… today! I promise—!" she choked out.
He held her there for a few seconds longer, watching her face turn pale, then finally let go. Miyuki slid down the wall, coughing, her hands around her bruised neck.
The man took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled slowly, then pulled out his phone.
"Boss. She's fifty short. Says she'll pay today." His eyes lazily scanned her small apartment—bare cupboards, secondhand furniture, nothing of value. "No, boss… nothing worth taking here."
A pause. A nod. "Okay, boss. Yeah. We'll be there."
He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket, his cold stare locking onto Miyuki as she trembled on the floor.
"Let's go, bitch. My boss wants to see you."
The man's hand shot to her throat again, pinning her to the wall. Miyuki gasped, her fingernails scraping helplessly at his wrist. His other hand squeezed her breast roughly, then his tongue dragged across her cheek, leaving a slick trail that made her stomach twist.
"Let's see what he wants to say to you."
Her legs buckled as they shoved her out of the apartment. She stumbled into the dim corridor, almost collapsing. One of them yanked her upright by the arm, fingers digging painfully into her skin. She couldn't even catch her breath before they dragged her forward.
Outside, the black car waited. The back door flung open, and they shoved her inside. Miyuki's body hit the leather seat hard, her heart racing as two of the men climbed in, one on either side, boxing her in. The third slid behind the wheel, starting the engine with a low growl.
As the car pulled away, the man to her right leaned in close, the stench of beer and cigarettes suffocating her. "Boss told us not to hurt you. Otherwise…" He grinned, his eyes crawling over her body. "We could have a lot of fun with you."
Miyuki's blood ran cold. Her lips trembled, words tumbling out in desperation. "P-please… Let me go. I'll give the remaining money today. Please!"
The man on her left laughed, a harsh bark in the confined space. "Too late, bitch."
Her whole body went rigid. The streets blurred past outside the window, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the two shadows hemming her in, their shoulders pressing against hers, the smell of sweat, smoke, and cheap cologne making her gag. Every bump of the road felt like a step closer to something she couldn't escape.
The shrill ring of the phone cut through the steady hum of the car's engine. The thug behind the wheel snatched it up without hesitation, his tone clipped and respectful.
"...Yes, boss, I am on the way."
A pause. His brow furrowed.
"Ah… why?"
Another silence, heavier this time.
"Okay, boss, as you say." His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles whitening.
"No, boss, I didn't do anything." His voice cracked for a second, desperate, defensive.
"...Ok."
He ended the call with a snap of his thumb and tossed the phone onto the dashboard. Without warning, the driver yanked the steering wheel hard, making the car lurch into a sharp U-turn.
From the left side of Miyuki, the man riding shotgun twisted around, his eyes narrowing. "What happened?"
The driver's jaw clenched. "Ane-go wants to see her."
The man on the left frowned. "Why?"
"How the fuck should I know?" The driver barked, irritation leaking through his tension.
Miyuki, seated between them, noticed the sudden heaviness in the air. Their faces had changed—lips pressed thin, eyes sharp with unease. A chill crept up her spine.
Before she could make sense of it, the thug to her right seized her chin, forcing her face toward him. His breath was hot and rancid, his eyes gleaming with menace.
"If you told anyone," he hissed, "about us dragging you here… or that I pressed your breast and licked your face…" His voice dropped to a growl. "I'll make sure you collect your brat's corpse."
Miyuki's whole body stiffened. Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head frantically. "N-no, no… I won't say a word!" She cried, her voice breaking, trembling with terror.
The thug smirked, but his grip lingered on her face for a moment too long, making sure the threat sank deep.