Ayako led me down a hushed hallway, past private chambers like veiled secrets. This was the same corridor where Ana had disappeared with the elegant pink-haired Wallic woman. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the doors, some aglow with a plethora of hues that hinted at the shadows of dancing wenches within.
“VIP rooms,” sighed Ayako, rubbing the back of her neck. “Surely, their fun time is protected under their own privilege”
“And how shall we proceed?”
Ayako flitted from door to door, her head tipped, ear straining to catch any whispers promising intrigue. I shifted uncomfortably, unable to tear my gaze from her fervent quest. This stern woman, the one I thought I knew, had morphed into a covert hawkshaw, hunting for secrets with the thrill of a housewife chasing dust bunnies.
I thought I should be the one who would do the Raiser job, yet her way of guiding me was quite helpful—considering this hall meant to shield their heaven-knows-what jollies.
“Hey, can’t you help me over?” she cried. “I’m doing my best here. “
I crossed my arms and mumbled, “Best… yet stupidest ways to snatch some knowledge.”
“Teme… eh.”
Ayako's gasp pierced the air, jolting me out of my introspection. Turning around, I met the gaze of a young man, his wide smile stretching across his face, somehow both unsettling and inviting. His stance was ramrod straight, exuding a poised air. Narrow eyes, fringed by pale lashes, hinted at a shared heritage with Ayako, sparking a flicker of curiosity within me. Who was this stranger, and what did he want?
“Evening, my ladies,” said the young man, his soft-spoken words again upsetting me. “Do you have any problems here?”
“Uhh… umm. Well, we are here to—”
“We’re here to find someone we can… enjoy a drink with,” interrupted Ayako, leaning on my side and grinning in front of him. “You see, we’re kinda bored at the public sec now.”
“Oh, ni haw ma—wo piao liang de nushi?”asked the young man, speaking with his mother tongue.
“Uhh… gomen,” replied Ayako, rubbing her head. “I don’t speak nor understand Weian.”
“Oh, my bad,” the young man laughed. “I wasn’t expecting you to be Taijinese.”
Then Ayako shared his laughter, yet rather awkwardly, then asked, “So do you have any open seats for us to occupy?”
“No worries. We always reserve seats for our potential partners… like both of you. And judging by your company, it seems like you both could easily become cherished additions to our endearing needs.”
“Thanks,” Ayako nodded. “And that’ll be a cue for our accepted invitation, eh?”
“Such excitement. Truly, you’re welcome to share our stay after all.”
The young man paid us a gentle gesture and walked us to the door they were sojourning in.
As soon as he opened the door, vivid lights greeted our eyes. Inside the room were another man in his middle age flumping on the couch and the same pink-haired Wallic wench dancing alone in front of him.
“Why not introduce yourselves first before we begin our fun night, my pretty ladies?” the young man murmured to us.
I walked a bit forth and dropped a solemn curtsy, “Good evening, my name is E-,” then a pressing pang came across my haunches. As expected, it was Ayako’s hand to remind me of our accord. Shame, it was, for I let out a faint moan in brief, yet I never surrendered to it and instead redressed, “Janie, and I am honoured to have a fresh bond with you.”
“Such refined words,” said the middle-aged man. “You must’ve been a sweet lass born from a highbrow spunk and a lovely squirt.”
Ayako suddenly put her arm around my shoulder, “And konnichi-hello, dear gentlemen! Name’s Ayako, and I rocku with no locku!” she cried, putting herself in a rather joyous facade.
They paused; awkward silence loomed throughout the room, slowly upsetting Ayako as she probably asked herself of the doubts within her. Even I doubted she could pull off like that.
“... Right,” said the middle-aged man. “Seems you’ve got your… lesbian partner making your everyday life a full of beans”
“Partner?!” I replied, glaring. “Excuse me, but I am already married to a man—a mighty and noble man.”
The middle-aged man laughed, “And yet, here you are—stabbing your husband’s back like every woman I’ve known, all because he always sleeps after work, never asks you—‘Hey, baby. Want a ride with me?’, never made you moan upon seeing him… and has a tiny, weak cock, unmatched with your heart’s desires.”
“Hey you—”
“Well,” Ayako interrupted, tightening her grip on my brachium. “Actually, we've been best friends since high school…like I remember she failed her epic acting performance by falling over the stage and accidentally kissing the old man judge. Ha ha, do you remember?”
Knowing she tried to cover me up, I forced my laughter out and replied, “Yes… thanks for reminding me of that shameful display of mine.”
“And as a director of the play, I managed to console her after the show. She was so, so depressed as fuck; however, she also was turned on by the sheer warmth and scent coming from that certain old man. Truly, what a bad bitch she was.”
“I see,” the middle-aged man raised his brows and gaped, perhaps shocked over her false narrative. “That made you be her best friend?”
“Uhh… actually,” I added. “There’s more than that,” then I slapped over her brachium as hard as to feel my wrath and mumbled to her. “Why are you sharing that with him?!”
“To make you turn on by the old man again,” she replied.
“How dare you?!”
“Now now, my pretty ladies. No need to catfight—”
“WE’RE NOT FIGHTING!” both of us said at once, sharing our glares against the so-called Weian lad.
“Right…”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Ayako’s arm slipped around my shoulder, proving ourselves in peace. Despite the gentle touch, her face remained an unreadable mask, composed and cool like a seasoned negotiator after a tense exchange. Side by side, we sauntered to the plush divan, settling beside the middle-aged man. The young Weian, his gaze lingering on Ayako for a beat too long, took the seat next to her. Edges for the men, and middle for the women.
Our eyes glued to the pink-haired Wallic wench whirling her waist. Her voluptuous figure dazzled the gazes of men here; such debauchery this place had loomed across. How treacherous my eyes were, tempting to gouge my eyes out of this lustful menace.
“So, Janie… right?” asked the middle-aged man.
“Yes,” I nodded. “And what could be yours?”
“Name’s Mason, owner of Club Mia.”
“Right… wait, you are the owner of this place?”
“Yeah, although I’m not the one who handles these precious girls.”
“Then who?”
“Themselves,” nodded Mason. “Sols for their service goes one-hundred percent to their wallet, while sols for the access goes one-hundred percent to mine. In other words, zero exploitation is the rule here. Also your ‘free’ access for this night was apparently paid by your redhead friend, Ana, from the other side of the room, so there’s that.”
“And what about that… sheng-shong guy? Is he also your guest?”
“Oh, you mean… Liu Sheng?” he laughed. “You’ve partially got his name right…. Apparently, he’s a supervising agent, checking everything about this place if it goes bad or not.”
“Agent? An outsider?”
“Yup, specifically… the IL ones.”
“IL? International League ones?”
He nodded, “Or more specifically, the Law Enforcement Agency.”
“So they must have—Ouch!”
A searing pain lanced through my thigh, ripping me from my words. I whipped my head down to find the source—Ayako's hand, gripping my leg like a steel vice. Her silent plea was chillingly clear: say no more. The information burned on my tongue, forbidden by some unspoken code of hers. But logic roared—they were both IL, fighting for the same cause. Why the secrecy?
“What is it?” asked Mason.
“No… nothing. Just had a brief cramp.”
“Right…”
“So what is his specific task here?”
“Honestly, I can’t say for sure, but it’s quite unusual for him to be a guest here tonight.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Let’s say… he uses his own money to pay for an access other than the money from that organisation.”
“How do you know?”
“Details… details in receipts, of course. As a club owner, I always have full information on every transaction I get, so there’s that.”
“I see, and you keep them a secret?”
“As… uhhh… as every business should… unless a state-legal organisation is permitted to have a privilege to do so.”
“Like the IL.”
“That, and the UAF government.”
“So why did you tell me about that?”
My question hung heavy in the air, met only by the deafening silence and the deepening furrow in his brow. He scrubbed his face with weary hands, a sigh escaping his lips as regret shadowed his eyes. A gentle pat, twice, on my thigh. Ayako's silent communication, gratitude or caution, I could not quite fathom.
Strange, we knew from his words, yet kept our mouth shut for further demands.
However, Mason somehow returned to his calm and poised face.
“Well, nothing beats a fool other than the fool like me,” he chuckled. “After all, that’s just a hunch, if I dare say.”
Yet, thanks to him, a hint had etched into our mind now. Foolish, indeed, he was.
“I see,” I nodded. “Anyway, how did you meet Ana at first?”
“She just came here—on her own accord.”
“When?”
“I couldn’t actually count days for such a busy man like me, but through my best recollection, I’d say… uhh… three years ago.”
“So three years, she has been working here, aye?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “In fact, I’d say she’s rather ‘enjoying’ it more than just working here.”
“Why do you say so?”
“I dunno if you can believe this, but she’s always on fire.”
“On fire?”
“Being horny, you know?.... Or formally speaking, lustful.”
“So, she’s the most hectic among all here?”
“One of the most hectic,” he clarified. “But I’d hardly rank how hectic they are, but I could based on their appearances and fetishes.”
“I see… I see,” I nodded, back to back until my urge to grimace waned.
“And you seem to be on the top list,” he smiled.
“W-What?” I said, my face flinched and flushed red. “No way I could be one of these filthy wenches shoving their bloody cunt up to your grisly faces.”
He laughed, his hand slapped on the side squab thrice, “Just kidding. I know you wouldn’t want to risk your sense of promiscuity out and be open to me.”
“That’s not what I really meant,” I cried, then shook my head and heaved an exasperated sigh. “Why did we bloody sign up for this in the first place?”
“Well, better ask your Taijinese friend, Ayako, beside you… or Ana on the other side of the door.”
“Thanks for the needless advice.”
“You’re welcome.”
The pink-haired wench ambled closer to Mason; she stroked across his cheeks down to his hand. Indeed, her earnest to best the silky touch of her fingers found Mason in lecherous zest. His eyes glued to her, or rather her bare body fitted for his taste. As his cheeks flushed red, her fingers then kneaded his chin, raising his head as both shared their amatory gazes. Her lips teased him, as it drew near to his, but solely that.
And I am not going to explain further about this. You filthy debauchees can picture whatever you want. After all, it is merely a gazing jiff, so let us cut to the chase here.