How to Handle a Yandere Harem - Chapter 21

Elizabeth’s patience was wearing thin as she sat in the café, each tick of the clock echoing in her mind like a taunt.
(This is a waste of time. I need to find that woman before I lose my mind.)
She clenched her jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Every piece of information she’d overheard so far was contradictory—useless. One person claimed Akuma’s ex was halfway across the world, while another swore she was just down the street. It was maddening.
(Enough of this.)
Elizabeth pushed her chair back, the legs scraping against the wooden floor and drawing a few curious glances. She ignored them, her focus solely on finding someone in this café who could actually help her. If the whispers weren’t coming to her, she’d go to them. She adjusted her simple white blouse and faded jeans, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail—just another anonymous face in the crowd. Perfect for her mission.

As she stood, she took a deep breath, her thoughts a chaotic mess.
(I can’t blow this. If I mess up, I’ll be stuck chasing shadows forever.)
With that in mind, Elizabeth moved through the café with a deliberate but unhurried pace. Her steps were soft, barely noticeable, as she navigated the narrow spaces between tables. The hum of quiet conversation and the clinking of cups masked her movements.

Her eyes flicked from one patron to another, analyzing each one.
(That guy over there looks too relaxed—probably a regular with nothing interesting to offer. The woman in the corner? Too focused on her book.)
She ruled them out quickly, her instincts guiding her search. Her frustration grew with each step, her fingers twitching with the urge to grab someone and demand answers. But she knew better than to let her impulsiveness get the better of her.

Finally, her gaze settled on a man seated near the back of the café, his head lowered over a newspaper. His clothes were unremarkable, but something about the way his eyes darted over the paper, as if he were reading the words but not absorbing them, caught her attention.
(This one… he’s pretending to be casual, but he’s definitely on edge.)
Elizabeth made her approach, her heart pounding in her chest.
(Act natural, don’t give him a reason to suspect anything.)
She let her fingers brush the edge of his table as she passed, an almost imperceptible touch, but enough to make him look up. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Elizabeth offered a small, polite smile—the kind you give to a stranger you have no intention of speaking to. But the moment she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, she knew she had him.
(Don’t push too hard, just plant the seed.)
Elizabeth kept walking, her pace steady as she moved toward the counter, pretending to be interested in the display of pastries. She could feel his gaze on her back, and she allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk.
(Come on, take the bait.)
Elizabeth stood there for a moment, her eyes skimming the display of pastries, though her mind was far from focused on them. The soft clatter of the man folding his newspaper caught her attention, signaling that he was taking the bait. But as her gaze flickered back to the journal he set down on the table, something unexpected caught her eye.

The journal, nondescript at first glance, had a peculiar marking on its cover—a subtle, barely noticeable emblem that only someone as detail-oriented as Elizabeth would catch. Her sharp instincts immediately kicked in.
(Wait a minute… that symbol… it doesn’t belong on a simple journal.)
She mentally traced the mark, realizing it was linked to a network she had encountered before, but it had never been associated with Akuma or his ex-girlfriend.

Her mind began to piece together the clues, each one more unsettling than the last. The contradictory information, the sudden appearance of an informant just when she was getting desperate, and now this journal with an emblem that was out of place—it all pointed to one thing.
(Someone is manipulating the information, leading me on a wild chase.)
Elizabeth’s heart rate quickened, not out of fear but from the thrill of the hunt.
(Someone wants to throw me off the trail, keep me running in circles.)
She pretended to adjust her position, subtly moving closer to the man, her senses now heightened.
(But who? And why?)
She couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a random act of sabotage but a deliberate, calculated move.

Her mind raced through the possibilities. Was it someone who knew of her mission and wanted to see her fail? Or perhaps a rival with their own agenda? She couldn’t be sure yet, but the realization that she was being toyed with lit a fire within her.
(Whoever you are, you’ve made a mistake. I’ll find out who’s behind this, and when I do…)
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. There was no time to dwell on the unknown. She needed to stay sharp, keep up the act, and extract whatever information she could from this man—whether it was true or just another piece of the puzzle.
(Got you.)