The Adulterer Who Fell Into the Trap
—α Timeline (Katsuya’s Perspective)—
I arrived at the despicable man’s company. Their harassment had intensified, driving our clients away through sheer pressure. Even their president, with tears streaming down his face, came to us, apologizing profusely with lines like, “I’m truly sorry” and “I had no choice,” before parting ways. I couldn’t forgive the man responsible for forcing such humiliation upon them.
We met one-on-one in the conference room. But this wasn’t a discussion—it was nothing short of an ultimatum cloaked in intimidation. Our company may have been small, but with our technical expertise and talented personnel, it was clear why they had set their sights on us.
“So, you’ve finally made up your mind, Takahashi-san?”
His cold, cutting words echoed in the air. The man before me, who had once been my senior in high school, glared down with an arrogant smirk, his disdain palpable.
I suppressed the irritation bubbling up at his smug expression and continued, carefully masking my emotions. I made it seem as though I had no choice.
This fool still doesn’t realize it. He has no idea what kind of revenge we’ve set into motion. The first step is to get him to act recklessly. That will expose his scandal to the rivals in his company. His sprawling family-run business is rife with tension between the main and branch families, and plenty of people would love nothing more than to oust him, the heir of the main family.
We managed to make contact with one of the key players in that faction. While he has used his power and money to cover up his own arrest, we have undeniable evidence: audio recordings of his arrest, thanks to Airi-chan.
Even if they manage to acquire our company, all they’ll get is an empty husk. Most of the employees have already resigned, and the remaining technological assets are outdated. After all the flashy moves and backdoor deals, they’ll end up with nothing more than a worthless shell. A company without people is meaningless—an empty box, as hollow as the man himself.
And then there’s Miyabi. He became a director at their company and handed over our client list—a blatant act of betrayal. Even if we don’t win in court, just filing a lawsuit would be enough to back them into a corner. I’ve already retrieved the video data they created to trap Michitaka. Before his death, Michitaka uploaded it to our shared online folder. With this solid evidence, we can press them further.
Once they’re utterly broken, we’ll launch our counterattack alongside the branch family members who received the audio recordings, crushing them completely.
I’ve already discussed the plan with Misato-san and Airi-chan. We agreed to keep the audio data private unless absolutely necessary, only releasing it as a last resort. That was the final decision.
“Yes, any further resistance is meaningless. If you pay a fair price, we’ll accept your buyout proposal.”
This was the bait. If he took it, he’d plunge himself into ruin.
If only he hadn’t harassed Michitaka, things wouldn’t have escalated to this point. Why was he so obsessed with tearing Michitaka down? What did he gain from destroying such a good man?
Give him back. Give back Michitaka. You can’t just trample on someone’s dignity for your own amusement. How much more suffering does Airi-chan have to bear because of you?
“Finally, it’s over. That troublesome issue is behind us now.”
Oh, but it’s not over. The profits will go to Airi-chan, who inherited Michitaka’s shares. They’ll be used for her care and support—that’s only right. But your downfall begins today.
You destroyed Michitaka’s life, inflicted deep wounds on Airi-chan’s heart, and drove our colleagues into despair.
I’ll drag you into a living hell, far worse than death.
You’ll lose everything, brought down by us—the ones who carry Michitaka’s will. You never stood a chance against him. Can’t you see why your own daughter, your flesh and blood, chose to admire Michitaka instead of you?
“Now I can finally relax. Another achievement under my belt, thanks to the company you nurtured.”
He couldn’t see people for what they truly are. He fixated on the hardware—the company itself—while ignoring the people, the software that gave it life. His mindset couldn’t have been more different from Michitaka’s.
“Well, good for you.”
Forcing a wry smile, I watched as he laughed triumphantly, basking in what he believed to be his victory. Fine, savor your fleeting happiness. The despair my best friend endured was far greater. I can only hope you suffer as deeply as he did.
“As for the handover…”
I signed the contract, sealing the deal. This was the end of our connection to the company. While I felt a pang of sadness, clinging to it would go against Michitaka’s wishes. Protecting the employees was far more important.
“No need. This is the last time I’ll ever see your face.”
Good. In fact, I’m grateful for that.
Watching his smug face as he signed the contract, I knew with absolute certainty—we had won.