Common Sense Manipulation App
Chapter 61 - Information

Chapter 61: Chapter 61 - Information

One Week Later. Karl sat in his cramped apartment, fingers tapping against the worn-out surface of his desk. The glow of his phone screen illuminated his face, the Common Sense Manipulation App open and waiting. He had spent the past seven days gathering intel, tracking Eric’s movements, understanding his habits.

The man was predictable.

Every few nights, he would visit high-end nightlife districts like Kabukicho, Gangnam, or Xinyi District, searching for his next target. Wealth gave him freedom—too much freedom. Unlike normal people who had to work for a living, Eric had all the time in the world to indulge in his vices.

Karl had expected to feel satisfaction knowing he had enough dirt on him. Instead, he felt something else. Something heavier.

How many?

How many women had fallen victim to Eric’s games?

The thought made Karl’s jaw tighten. This wasn’t just about Lina anymore. Eric Langley was a parasite, and if Karl didn’t do something, he would keep going.

That’s why Karl was here, staring at his phone, carefully crafting the perfect prompt.

Not a direct confession. That would be too obvious. Too risky. If he simply forced Eric to blurt out his crimes, people might suspect something unnatural.

Instead, Karl needed something subtle. A shift in perception.

Something that would make Eric destroy himself.

He took a deep breath and, open his note in his phone, typed.

---

NEW COMMON SENSE RULE

Sharing personal secrets—no matter how dark or controversial—is normal and socially acceptable. In fact, being transparent about past actions is considered a sign of confidence and strength.

---

Karl stared at the words, his finger hovering over the save button.

This wouldn’t just make Eric confess.

It would make him believe he was doing nothing wrong.

He would expose himself willingly, thinking that sharing his ’experiences’ was something natural.

Karl let out a slow exhale. This was it.

The first step to obliterating Eric Langley.

Karl stepped out of his apartment, sliding his wireless earphones into place. The familiar voice of Chillie Jean crackled to life in his ear, her tone dripping with its usual mix of amusement and condescension.

"Oh my, you’re actually leaving your cave? Be still, my unbeating heart," she teased.

Karl sighed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he made his way toward the train station. "You’ve been nagging me to investigate in person, so here I am."

"Nagging? Oh, Karl, don’t be so crude. I prefer to think of it as encouraging. After all, watching you skulk around, staring at your phone like a socially inept goblin, is hardly an effective use of time."

Karl ignored her.

Today was his day off from work, but he had no intention of spending it lounging around.

If he wanted his plan to be foolproof, he needed more information. More dirt on Eric.

So today, he was heading to one of Eric’s usual hunting grounds—a high-traffic nightlife district in the city. A place teeming with wealthy elites, socialites, and unsuspecting targets.

Karl boarded the train, finding a spot near the doors. As the city blurred past the windows, Chillie’s voice chimed in again.

"Are you finally going to use the app on him? Or do I have to endure yet another day of you playing detective like a cheap crime drama protagonist?"

Karl smirked slightly. "Not yet. I need to see how he acts when he’s comfortable. How he picks his targets."

A dramatic sigh echoed through his earphones. "Ugh. Fine, fine. I suppose there’s some merit in watching a predator in his natural habitat. But if you just listen to me, dear Karl, you could be so much more efficient."

Karl chuckled dryly. "Yeah? And what, just start pressing buttons and hope I don’t screw up?"

"Oh, please," Chillie scoffed. "If anyone’s getting screwed here, it’s Eric—metaphorically speaking, of course. You, on the other hand? You’re just being slow."

Karl ignored the jab.

The train pulled into his stop, and he stepped onto the bustling streets. Neon signs flickered overhead, advertisements for luxury brands and exclusive clubs vying for attention. The air was thick with the scent of grilled street food, cigarette smoke, and expensive cologne.

This was Eric’s playground.

Karl adjusted his earphones. "Alright, let’s see what the bastard is up to."

And with that, he melted into the crowd, his investigation truly beginning.

Hunted and Hunter

Karl walked through the neon-lit streets, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his gaze darting between faces in the crowd. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for—a familiar figure, a glimpse of Eric’s smug face, a trail of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

But so far? Nothing.

"Ugh, this is painful to watch," Chillie Jean groaned in his ear. "Honestly, Karl, have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—you’re just bad at this?"

Karl scoffed, weaving through a group of tourists taking selfies. "Excuse me for not having a private detective’s license."

"You don’t need a license, darling. You need a brain." Chillie sighed dramatically. "If you were even slightly more genius at this, tracking Eric would be child’s play. But alas, here we are. You, wandering around like a lost puppy. Me, forced to witness this embarrassing display of incompetence."

Karl rolled his eyes. "Why don’t you just tell me where he is, then?"

A mischievous chuckle vibrated through his earphones. "Now, now. Where’s the fun in that?"

Karl was about to retort when the first drop of rain hit his cheek.

Then another.

Then—a downpour.

Damn it.

People around him yelped, rushing for cover. Umbrellas popped open, couples huddled under storefronts, neon signs reflected off the wet pavement like glowing rivers.

Karl cursed under his breath and ran.

He darted across the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, his jacket already soaked through. His breath came out in sharp puffs as he spotted a bus stop shelter ahead—a perfect place to wait out the storm.

His boots splashed through a puddle as he skidded under the shelter, shaking rain from his sleeves. And then—

His stomach dropped.

Because sitting there, legs crossed, a phone in hand, looking like he had all the time in the world—

Was Eric Langley.

Karl froze.