Like An AV - The Man Who Takes Away Chapter 41: The Tragedy of Undercover Agent Nikita Romanova
Even those blue lobsters—twenty of them. It was such a massive haul, I wondered how I'd ever finish it all. But then I noticed the antennae on the tied-up lobsters twitching. No way—were they still alive? They really were. Not just the antennae; the claws were moving too, ever so slightly. And every single one of the twenty.
Ho! These were insanely fresh.
Come to think of it, the shrimp from earlier had been wriggling just like they'd been pulled straight from the water, antennae and legs twitching away. Live seafood delivery, huh. Well, at this point, nothing surprised me anymore.
Then there were the two crab boxes. One held flower crabs, the other king crabs. The king crabs were, well, king crabs—ten massive beasts, sturdy enough to feed a whole family. At that size, how much did one even cost? Probably more than my monthly salary could stretch to once a year.
Still, the king crabs made sense with their sheer bulk. The real problem was the flower crabs. These definitely weren't Earth creatures. They looked just like the ones sold at Sora Fish Market... but why the hell were they as big as king crabs? This one was blatantly the weirdest! Who could I even gift these to without freaking them out? I'd be shocked myself—what would anyone else say?
Not that I could eat all these crustaceans alone. Even with my appetite, it'd take a month, and these fresh ones needed to be devoured soon. Freezing them would ruin the taste.
Screw it. Eat first, think later.
I pulled a shrimp from the icebox and rinsed it. Two seemed like too many, so I took just one—and it looked plenty. How to cook it? Shrimp's delicious any way. Steamed, grilled... judging by how it wriggled when I took it out, sashimi might even work. But it creeped me out a bit, so I'd cook it. Taste be damned—my health came first.
Butter grill sounded good, but I wanted the pure flavor, so salt-grilled it was. I spread salt in the frying pan, laid the shrimp on top, covered it, and fired up the heat. While it cooked, I mixed soy sauce with tube wasabi for dipping. Fresh wasabi would've been ideal, but going out was a hassle.
As the shrimp cooked, that nutty, crustacean aroma wafted out. My mouth was already watering. I flipped it occasionally, ensuring even cooking. After about ten minutes, it seemed done, so I plated it.
It was huge. But would it taste as good as it looked? A twinge of doubt as I peeled the shell. The size made the shell tough, but the meat was packed tight—great yield. One shrimp was a full adult meal. Too big to bite whole, so I sliced it into mouthfuls.
First bite, straight—no soy. Chewy texture exploded with rich shrimp essence flooding my mouth like a wave. Wow! What had all my past shrimp even been? This opened a whole new world.
Usually, oversized shrimp sacrifice aroma for chew and fullness, but not this one. Perfect bounce, intense flavor asserting itself. Mmm... heaven. Happiness washed over me. The salt-grill hit just right—mildly under-salted due to size, but delicious enough.
Still, I dipped half lightly in soy and wasabi. That worked too. No picking a winner—just pure bliss. Yeah, the shrimp were mine.
Belly full from one, I lounged when Bora opened the door.
"What the hell is all this?"
She stared, stunned at the giant icebox and its lobster-crab bounty.
"Who sent you gifts again?" Her face screamed disbelief. "Who the fuck would give someone like you... You blackmailing someone else?"
"Don't ask. You know the answer."
"Fine. Figures."
To her, I was the scum of the earth.
"Take what you want. Can't eat it all alone."
"No thanks. I don't need any."
Cold as ice. Premium stuff, but not enough to make her thank me and grab some.
Fine. Whatever. I shut the icebox lid. Time to find someone else—anyone but Bora.
"So, what's wrong?"
Her face was shadowed today, gloomier than usual. She always scowled around me, but this was next-level.
"None of your business."
Icy as ever.
"Who knows? I might help."
"Hah! As if. You'd just laugh at my misery."
"Mock your unhappiness? Come on. What bad have I done you?"
Something was up. That made me more curious.
"This is you being good?"
She shook the dog collar around her neck with a look of utter exasperation. The neighbor wife knelt naked before me like a dog, leash taut, collar snug—just like always.
"Yeah, well. Still wanna hear it? What's your tragedy? Maybe I can actually help. People grab at straws in dire straits, right?"
"..."
"Tell me, and I'll call off the remaining days of our contract. Done."
Our month-long deal was nearly up.
"For real? Not just messing with me?"
"Have I ever broken a promise?"
She stared silently.
"Trouble with him. It's... bad. Really bad."
"What kind?"
"Sexual harassment. A female coworker reported him. Ridiculous! He would never..."
Now I got why she was so down. Hearing the world's most trustworthy man groped another woman—what a gut punch.
"Guys do that stuff."
"He's not like you. No way."
"Bet he can't imagine you like this."
Ah, shit—my bad. Tears welled in her eyes. Habit from tormenting her. No apology, though—she didn't want one, calming quick.
"Back to it. Someone framing your husband?"
"One of the secretary office staff."
"City hall audit suspended him. 'Do nothing till it's over.' Then straight to prosecutors or forced resignation."
Sounded hopeless. They'd already ruled it harassment.
She believed his innocence blindly.
"If he backs down, it's over. No public office, no life here."
She couldn't voice the despair crushing her. Tough break. In this era, one harassment stamp ends you—especially for public servants or celebs under scrutiny. Truth irrelevant; socially buried.
"Why frame him? Money demand? Old grudge?"
"He says minimal work contact. No clue why. But... something shady's brewing at city hall lately."
She knew little. Factions, maybe sacrificial pawn—that was it. Probably bullshit he spun to defend himself.
"Factions? Which one is he?"
"Smart guy, but no politics."
Take others' words with salt. Elite civil servant with no connections? Sketchy.
"So what can you do? Pay her off?"
Hmm, not bad. But not just cash—Casting Card could fix it instantly. Wait, I'm a genius. But banging some unknown woman for Bora's sake? Pass.
Hmm... options. Hold up—got it. One of those new cards fit perfect.
"You believe he didn't do it, right?"
She nodded fiercely.
"Ready to do anything to prove his innocence?"
"What? You got powers?"
Her usual cynicism.
"If I did."
"Fine. Prove it, I'll do anything. Bark like a dog forever."
Her love for him was real. My dick twitched suddenly.
"What twisted shit are you plotting? Pervert! Idiot for trusting you even a speck."
She mistook my excitement for lewd demands. Nah—it was her pure devotion. Toying with a wife who truly loves her husband? Morally unforgivable. But it revved a perv like me like nothing else.
"I'll find a way. Swing by tomorrow after he leaves for work."
Her face said no fun today, so I sent her home. She left without much thanks, worry overwhelming.
After shooing Bora, I grabbed small boxes from the icebox, portioned seafood, and headed to the underground garage. Long time no drive—hate traffic, car's near ten years old, stirs dumb thoughts. But heavy load today, no choice.
First stop: Jiyeon's neighborhood.
"Whoa! What's this? So huge!"
Trunk open, showing lobsters and king crabs—she lit up.
"Super pretty. We can really eat these?"
She gawked at the blue lobsters. Fair—I had too.
"Yeah. French ones, tastier than regular. First time for me too."
"Still alive, though. Antennae's twitching. Caught in France and still kicking?"
"Beats me. Plane ride?"
I shrugged. Felt like more than that.
"Hey, come in a sec. Mom and Dad aren't back."
That sparkle in her eyes? Pure temptation.
"Alone inside? You sure you won't jump me?"
"What, I'm some horny bitch? Even at home?"
She bristled.