“Punish. Punish. Punish,” while leading Elmer through the base of the Underground Cartel in a criminal-like manner, Barge kept rambling on and on. It seemed the beast of a child couldn’t help himself from reminding Elmer of his hatred and intentions; or rather, he couldn’t stop himself.

Elmer didn’t mind though.

No. Not ‘mind’. He just didn’t care.

His head was completely occupied with how he was finally one step closer to doubling his income, so why would he let puny things such as shoves and growls bother him?

In fact, the interior of the Underground Cartel’s base was a far more fascinating thing for him to focus on.

The place was basically a den—a decadent and sinister den powered by nothing but some of the worst illicit vices of man.

It was with light, no doubt, but a mixture of dim ones characterized by warm, weak glows of deep amber and purple due to the lampshades of the gas lamps lining up the walls.

Seduction was the essence that gave this place life, Elmer could see that as clear as day. No. He could feel it. He was a man after all, and the noise-filled lounge was inviting him to come relax on one of the countless plush but worn-out sofas, or better still: take to one of those private booths he could glimpse and be consumed by pleasure.

There was temptation in the air, along with the sour smell of body sweat, burning candles, cheap perfumes, incense, and a floral bittersweet scent Elmer believed to be that of the drug he was here to lay his hands on. The confirmation of that was the glazed and unfocused eyes of the patrons who were huffing out smokes from their golden or bronze metallic pipes.

For a moment Elmer had a thought: Would smoking the opium help him sleep?

He put an end to it as soon as it came though.

There was a rule he had chosen to ingrain in himself before he’d boarded a carriage to leave his home earlier. ‘Do not eat your own goods’. It was for sale, not for him to bathe in glee.

Another shove came at that moment, with the word: “Punish!” that always accompanied it. Elmer lost his balance as he stumbled forward from maintaining the same line as Patsy and into one of the staff working in the establishment.

There was a squeal by the time he came to—anger not for one second evident on his face—and he saw a young girl who seemed no older than fifteen in a tattered and revealing gown on the floor with a blank look.

Instinctively, he stopped his advancement, and he was just about to apologize out of impulse when the young girl began to panic and scoop up all the pipes and the pebble-like crystalline opium that was scattered around the floor.

The scene unfolding before his eyes made Elmer think of the word which was being hurled at him, and because of that he scrutinized the girl a bit more.

He couldn’t see well due to the feeble light of his environment, but he was able to clearly make out things extremely well if they were close enough to him.

The girl looked no older than sixteen, had very rough black hair, which seemed like it was once silky; her knees were bleeding; her hands rough and red; and her face seemingly blemished; but most of all, her arms and thighs had scars that seemed to have been from some sort of cane or whip.

Elmer had an inkling on what was happening. He decided to confirm.

His gaze went towards the countless other girls pleasing the male patrons in one way or another, and the boys doing the same for the female patrons, the majority of them had distant looks despite the fact that they were smiling.

The staffs weren’t staffs. They were slaves.

Forced prostitution? How come the officials haven’t done anything yet?

As soon as he thought up that question he had an answer.

I see. These people are all probably children of peasants, or homeless miscreants… He gazed upon the patrons and scoffed. Even someone like me found out about the Black Market, I doubt the heads of the forces can’t do the same. They are most likely among those smoking and pleasuring themselves this instant; and even if they aren’t, money is keeping them from acting. And of course the Church just lets such happen; maybe they’re being bribed too. I guess I was right all along, all Gods are the same, humans were just means to satisfy their desires.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Move!” Barge was unhappy with Elmer stopping, and he did not try to keep it hidden.

Elmer obliged as well; he began to move, and for a moment he saw the girl on the floor looking up at him as if to ask for his help, but he completely ignored her.

He had to act like they do, think like they do, become them in all entirety. Those words kept ringing in his ears.

Helping the girl equated to losing his chance to make more money. He could not have that.

If the Heavens one day willed for them to be rescued then they would.

Though, if he could give the tattered, young workers here some advice, it would be that they relied on themselves and not others and search for a way to escape.

Well, that would be an impossible task, to tell the truth.

Barge was an Ascender, Elmer had confirmed that, and even though he was the only staff who wasn’t a worker Elmer had seen—besides the guards who made his first hurdle, and maybe Patsy—he was sure there were more somewhere; definitely where he was being led. The workers had no chance of escaping from Ascenders.

Elmer felt remorse for them, but that was all. He was not intending to risk a money-making scheme for people he had no connections to.

And besides, he was not sure of the strength of that who Barge called ‘boss’. That person was obviously in an Echelon rank that would give him troubles, maybe take his life, even, it would be unwise for him to endanger himself. He had his own family to consider.

But that did not stop him from being curious, so he asked to confirm his thought process was right and to gather more information that could be potentially helpful to him.

“That girl, is she a staff?” Patsy had caught up to him again, the word ‘Punish!’ being repeated close to them, from behind. He turned to look at her. She was taking her jolly time to answer.

“Yes,” she finally replied, “and no.”

Elmer turned his gaze away from her. “No other staff like our Barge here?” He was more concerned about that ‘King’ person, but he didn’t want to highlight it just yet.

Patsy seemed to be dumbstricken by the abrupt change of Elmer’s conversation. “Wait, what? You’re not going to ask anymore about the workers?”

Elmer was indifferent in both posture and look. “What does it matter to me?”

He had been expecting that. Since he had now developed a belief that Patsy recalled who he was, then he knew that from her point of view the situation with the workers would paint her as some evil wench to him.

She needn’t mind though. He didn’t care what her reasons were. In fact, if she told him it was to make money he would understand. After all, it was for that same reason he had ignored a lady’s eyes of pleas.

Patsy pursed her lips. “That’s… I don’t believe it.”

Elmer turned to look at her again, this time his eyes squinted. “Why don’t you?” He paused. “You sound like you know who I am? Have we met before?”

He was playing the oblivious card. If Patsy went on with his act, then so be it. It was not like he was willing to rekindle old ties with an old friend. He no longer wanted any of that. He was not even planning on repaying her for the kindness she had shown him by helping with his exploits. That was another reason why things would be better this way.

Patsy had been silent, analyzing Elmer’s features; his glasses, his beards, and the sort of eyes he now had, but soon after she answered as she pried her deep brown eyes away from his peering gaze, “No. I guess not.”

“I see. Then I request you don’t act like you know me. Such could cause unwarranted confusion.”

He was harsh, but harsh was good. He had to make sure his first acquaintance in Ur had no funny ideas about trying to unlock their past friendship.

“Why did you help me?” Elmer asked for no reason in particular; he already knew why. They had once been friends, it was that simple.

Patsy sighed, then grinned. “Why would I not have? You said you have a business deal for the boss; if you get that ironed out that means more income which equals more money for me. I love money, you see.”

Truly, there are zero changes over here for Ostrich lady…

Elmer also confirmed one other thing with her answer, she was definitely working for the Underground Cartel. He thought of asking how that came to be, but, alas, it was none of his concern.

“What’s going on here?” An authoritative voice rang out suddenly as Barge led Elmer halfway into the lounge, shaking the monster-child and the workers that were close by into a frightened shudder.

Elmer was baffled, especially due to how Barge was scared of the figure who possessed that voice. After all, their differences were vast, nearly vaster than that of night and day, yin and yang.

Barge fell to his knees at once, bowing his head the lowest he possibly could; Patsy did the same, though while standing.

“M-Master King. Barge want boss to punish. Barge say stranger with me deserve punishment.”

Elmer watched the unfolding scene and even grew more shocked. He tilted his head indiscernibly as he said to himself…

King? A dwarf?