Yakov found himself surrounded by an uncontrollable mob.

His crimes - or rather, a falsification of his crimes - had been revealed before all, and now he had to pay the price for this accusation which was backed by planted evidence.

Shock, anger, rage, hatred - all of these emotions welled up within the crowd that had been gathered.

And when a person is overcome by hatred, no matter how suspicious the evidence, all logical progress ceases.

"Yakov Kremol... you're a sick person."

With these words, Nathan threw a punch, landing it straight in Yakov's gut, causing him to reel back in pain as he let out a groan.

"To think that you have this many keys... did you plan on making every woman in this company into your plaything?"

Another blow flew, this time at Yakov's face as he fell backwards, his brain rattled by the sudden blow.

"Get him!"

"Kill him!"

"Stop this maniac, Nathan!"

The cheers of the crowd quickly turned in favor of the warrior who branded justice, representing the women of the company against the vile stalker.

Slam!

And with this encouragement, the blows that Yakov experienced became all the more violent.

Slam!

His breathing became difficult as he gasped for air, yet the man who was now on top of him wouldn't allow for such a break.

Slam!

Blood dripped down the man's bruised face, covering the fists of the aggressor as he continued to lay into the Janitor, who struggled pathetically in the face of such strength.

The cries of the crowd drowned out any groans of pain that Yakov made as they screamed and shouted for his execution.

His ribs ached as if they had been broken - perhaps they had.

His sides were covered in bruises, and even standing would be troublesome once this man got off him and allowed him to do so.

'Did I do anything to deserve this?'

Yet with a cold indifference, Yakov calmly wondered this.

'Was I truly someone so despicable?'

Looking up to his attacker, who had paused for a moment, Yakov mouthed these words.

"What crime did I commit?"

As he did this, a vein burst in the forehead of Nathan, and another flurry of blows ensued.

Nathan knew well and understood that Yakov was no criminal.

No - Nathan himself was the criminal.

It was almost certainly Nathan who had stolen the keys, and planted them in Yakov's locker to incriminate him.

He would likely collect the keys himself under the guise disposing of them, and nobody present would object to such a thing.

This was all a part of his plan.

Yakov realized this only as he was laying on the ground, bloody and beaten.

'So I'm just a tool for you to escape punishment for your actions.'

If consequences were a spilled liquid, then Yakov would be the sponge that would soak it up.

The table would remain clean, and the sponge would be dirtied with the fluid.

'Am I just a sponge to you?'

When Yakov's breathing had become so light that it was uncertain whether he was still alive, Nathan ceased his brutal display.

"I... will take responsibility for the actions of this man."

Standing up, Nathan looked at the people around him, a brutal seriousness overcoming him.

"If I lose my job for this... so be it. But this wicked company wouldn't let him go even when presented with evidence, so I've taken matters into my own hands."

He portrayed himself in a heroic manner, risking his job to defeat the villain that plagued this company.

The women swooned at his sacrifice, and the men nodded in approval. Truly, he was a man among men - to be respected and praised.

"I'll vouch for you, Nathan."

"Me as well."

"We'll all support you, and make sure you don't lose your job over this!"

And to a hero - comes public support.

"Thank you, everyone. Truly... you are all wonderful people."

Truly, they were horrible people.

However, at that moment, a door opened.

Numerous footsteps could be heard, and immediately a barrage of men entered the room.

"Hm? Did the executives hear of this so quickly and send people to stop it?", Nathan wondered out loud.

Men dressed in black suits with sunglasses filled the room, surrounding the people quickly - however these were not just any men.

They were armed.

"No... that isn't it."

"Who are these men?"

"Hey, what's going on!?"

It was just a few moments, but in those few moments every single person in that room was surrounded by the armed men.

"Hey, what is this!?"

"Police? Military? Who are you people?"

As the questions flew from the crowd, a line opened as the men parted, and stepping forward was a young man.

Likely in his twenties, he was a young man with a mustache, thin and tall, and he stepped forward with power.

"Good morning, everyone. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your gathering. But unfortunately, I have some business to attend to."

Stepping forth to face Nathan, who stood as the representative, the two men now faced off with one another.

"Now, now. Don't glare so much, salaryman. I'm not here to stop you from your gangbang. I have other business to attend to."

"Who are you? And what do you want?"

Shooting these questions as if he were spitting, Nathan had no patience remaining in him.

"Ah... how rude of me. I suppose I should introduce myself? You see, I'm one of the founders of a new syndicate... we have yet to decide upon a name, but I suppose I will give you my name at the very least."

With a delicate bow and a grand smile, the man spoke with pretension as he introduced himself.

"My name is Gerard Stirling - and I am here to collect some items that I've recently purchased."

----

"Collect some items? And what items exactly are you here to collect?"

Nathan wasn't foolish enough not to realize that something was up.

No man who was here to collect something would have brought this entire entourage with him unless it was something shady.

No - the very fact that this man could witness this scene without blinking an eye was proof enough of his shady nature.

"Straight to the point, I see. That's good. You'll survive longer if you live that way. I'm here to collect... lets see... one... two... three... it looks like there are 22 here."

The man counted as he looked around the room, at which Nathan lost his patience.

"Just what are you collecting?"

"Women. I've purchased all the female employees of this establishment. Therefore, would each of the 22 female employees here please come with us? You've been... reassigned."

As Gerard made such a statement, Nathan blew a fuse, rushing forward as he grabbed the collar of Gerard's shirt.

"Do you mean to tell me that you're taking the women away like they're some sort of property?"

As Nathan did this, a number of guns aimed at him, however Gerard held up a hand to stop his subordinates from firing.

"That's exactly what I mean to do. I've legally and rightfully purchased them. If you have an issue, you should take it up with your upper management."

As he said this, Gerard slowly grabbed the hand on his collar, peeling it off as he flashed a sinister grin.

"But I would remove your hands from me if I were you. You won't survive very long if you allow yourself to give in to emotions like that."

"You-"

As Nathan was about to shout out in retribution, however, Gerard leaned in to whisper into the man's ear.

"After all, your heroism is nothing more than a facade, isn't it? You of all people should know your place and not get involved with us... or you'll regret it."

As Gerard chuckled, Nathan let go of the man's collar, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Don't be so surprised. We hear things in our field. So stop playing hero and hand the women over quietly."

"Nathan!"

"Is he going to take us away!?"

"Where is he going to take us!?"

"Hey, what's going to happen to us!?"

"Nathan, you'll protect us, right?"

Suddenly, the crowd became loud once more.

Nathan was bombarded with such sentiments, burdened with the icon of heroism.

Were he to put on any further display, he would either be killed or his hobbies would be revealed.

Yet even so, the cheering didn't cease.

"That's right, Nathan will protect us from this man!"

"We have nothing to be afraid of!"

The women placed unnecessary expectations on the man, who once deemed himself a hero.

"That's... that's right."

And despite gritting his teeth with spite for the women who dared to place such a burden upon him, the man refused to give up this place.

After all - even if this man threatened to reveal his hobbies, who would believe such a shady thing?

Nathan had made sure to establish his reputation so that nobody would believe anyone who tried to expose the truth in the first place.

"I'll protect you all from this man."

Bang!

Yet as soon as he spoke, a bullet was fired.

Blood erupted from the shoulder of Nathan, who gazed forward to see Gerard with a pistol in hand, smoke billowing up as he donned an indifferent expression.

"Is that so?"

Pain erupted in the shoulder of the man, who fell to the ground with a scream.

"AGH!!!"

"Nathan!"

"Nathan!"

"Oh my goodness!"

"How could this happen!?!?"

Panic spread throughout the room as the hero was defeated so easily, reduced to a blubbering baby at a single bullet.

"Agh!!! Agh!!! It hurts!!! SHIT!!!"

"Yes, yes. It hurts. But Nathan..."

Now, standing above the man, Gerard cocked his weapon as he pointed it downwards.

"You chose this route, didn't you?"

"Wait... wait... no..."

Begging fervently, Nathan immediately changed his tune, pathetically shouting out as he cried for mercy.

"Stop this, I'll do anything! I'll give them to you! I'll let you do what you want! Take them! Take them!!!"

The women watched with horror as their hero begged for his own life, forsaking them as he threw away his pride.

Grabbing the legs of the mafioso, Nathan's blood dripped from his shoulder as he cried pitiful tears.

"Please... please... let me live..."

"You chose the route of a hero."

However Gerard held no form of sympathy.

"And a hero is supposed to sacrifice - isn't that right, Janitor?"

Gerard looked over to Yakov with a grin, and the beaten man sat up with a confused expression, unsure how to respond.

"A hero without sacrifice... is nothing more than a politician."

Bang!

In that instant, Gerard's lower half was covered in blood as the head of the begging man exploded, and his body fell to the ground.

Silence filled the room, and terror quickly spread throughout the hearts of each and every person there.

Except for one.

"As for the men... if you have no business with us, then leave. If you wish to die a hero like that man, then we would be glad to grant your final request."

When the man made this statement, a panic ensued.

Each and every man in that room rushed off, fear and shame tainting their expressions.

"Sorry!"

"I can't give my life for this!"

"I have a family!"

The room was cleared just as quickly as it had been filled, and now the only ones left were the women, who quickly fell into a panic.

"Agh!!!"

"Run!!!"

Yet in this panic, the men in black began to fight, using the blunt ends of their firearms to knock out the women with haste.

All the while, Yakov merely watched, bruised and bloodied - barely even able to move.

Screams were heard, and the women begged for mercy, however the men in this room showed no such sympathy.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Eventually there was only one left - sitting and crying in a corner as she was ganged up on by a number of men.

"Wait... please! No... no!!! Anyone! Yakov! Please, help me!"

This woman was none other than the one who had forced Yakov to lick up her drink from the ground.

"What are you going to do, Janitor? Are you going to help her?"

Gerard looked down to Yakov with a smile, clearly entertained at the scenario.

"Even if I wanted to, my body is bruised and I can't even move.", Yakov said with a cough.

Nodding, Gerard shrugged his shoulders.

"You hear that, woman? There's nobody left to help you. All the other men ran, and this one is incapacitated - by your hero, at that. And you cheered him on as he did so."

Bending down, Gerard faced the woman with a devious smile.

"Sometimes you don't get what you want. But pathetic people like you are the very reason I love this business in the first place."

Standing up, the man chuckled to himself as he headed over to Yakov.

"I love seeing the faces of those entitled people as I rip everything away from them - and they beg for mercy even from the very people that they once antagonized."

Looking down on Yakov, the man held out a hand.

"What do you say I give you a job?"

At this, Yakov looked up, shock and astonishment in his expression.

"I'm nothing more than a Janitor. I can't fight like these men, nor do I have any other useful skills. I'm a foreigner from Joraten, and I have nothing to show after my 30 years of life. What job would you possibly have for someone like me?"

With a smirk, Gerard chuckled at Yakov's response.

"So instead of rejecting my offer out of any sense of justice... you instead parade your own uselessness. Which means that you're not opposed to the things I've done here?"

At Gerard's question, Yakov sat up, his ribs creaking in anguish as he opened his mouth to respond.

"Cough... I suppose I don't particularly care."

"You don't hate them, but you don't want to protect them either. Is that how I should take this?"

"Take it as you wish."

As Yakov responded in such a strange manner, Gerard grinned all the more as he began to pace.

"I like you. Become my new Janitor then."

"You'll hire a Janitor, even though you're with some criminal organization?"

"We can train you in other things. Are you opposed to learning how to fight and doing things like this?"

When Yakov was posed with such a question, he paused for a moment.

He recalled all the terrible experiences he had from the moment he had arrived in this country, and even before that.

He recalled the hatred, the spite, the hazing, the rumors, all of it.

But he was not angry.

No... he was just indifferent.

He couldn't care less about people, or what happened to them.

After all, not a single person had cared about what happened to him.

"If that is what needs to be done."

Slowly standing, the man's body screamed with pain as he barely managed to take to his feet.

"Will you give me a purpose?"

"Your purpose will be to serve me. Isn't that enough?"

With a nod, Yakov agreed.

"Understood, Sir."

Thus - a monster was born.

----

Yakov Kremol had entered into the Street Rats organization underneath Gerard, the co-founder alongside his brother.

He had trained in firearms and hand to hand combat, and quickly surpassed any of the other recruits.

It was as if he had been born for combat, and his talent surpassed any that Gerard could even hope to train.

Even so, he refused to throw away his title as Janitor.

He soon began to take on missions, completely indifferent to the horrible agenda that he was supporting.

One by one, he would capture women and kill men who went against Gerard's orders, knocking out any form of chivalry.

For this was his purpose in life.

Perhaps his sins were despicable.

Perhaps his life was a waste, and perhaps he would die without anything to show for it aside from pain and suffering.

But at the very least - he died having served someone.

He didn't die that pathetic man who trudged forward each day, barely even clinging to life as he was beaten down by everyone around him, accused of all sorts of things and viewed as a villain.

No - he died as a true villain.

He died as someone deserving of death - as someone who was not accused of any false sins, but rather, of real ones.

Perhaps if he had another life, he would have done things differently.

Or perhaps he would not.

But Yakov knew only one thing before his life flickered out.

'I've served my purpose.'

----

'I need to find Marcus.'

Just what was that man planning?

Eclaire rushed out to the halls, eventually coming across the people, who were in a panic.

"What's going on!?!?"

"There was a strange man who entered and threatened us to let him pass!"

"I don't know what's happening!"

"Is this another gang!?"

As Eclaire looked down upon them from the balcony, she realized that she had something more important to do than to find Marcus.

'I see... I should say something.'

"Everyone! Please calm down!"

Shouting out as she took the stage, all eyes focused on Eclaire as she called out to the people.

'Oh...'

'Eclaire...'

'Why... is she covered in blood?'

"Everyone... I have an announcement to make."

As Eclaire stepped forward, the expressions of the people became tense as they awaited her words, unable to take their eyes off her.

"Gerard Stirling... the man who reigned over this paradise hotel like a tyrant... is dead."

And with these words, shock spread across the expressions of the people.

This shock however was quickly replaced with smiles and expressions of relief.

"Is that... is that true?"

"Gerard... is dead?"

"What of Yakov?"

An air of celebration spread throughout the crowd, however Eclaire held up a hand to halt such celebration.

"Yakov has also died. From this moment on, this paradise hotel is no more."

Pausing for a moment, Eclaire prepared herself as she began a short speech.

"This ring of prostitution that Gerard established has been in place for many years now."

With a smile, Eclaire desperately attempted to stop a tear from flowing as she spoke.

"I... was taken into this place a few years ago. I've lived here even before the calamity, and I was subject to the harsh conditions of this place."

As she told her story, the crowd became tense once more as they listened.

"There was a hierarchy that was absolute, and as someone on the lower levels of the hierarchy, I was nobody. I was forced to do all kinds of things, be with all kinds of horrid men, and I had no say in the matter."

As she told her story, many men and women became disturbed, filled with disgust at the existence of such a place.

"But even so, I knew that there was no way for me to make a difference aside from going up. Therefore... I rose."

Thinning her eyes, Eclaire's expression became cold as she made her confession.

"I rose to the top, and I sacrificed many things and many people to do so. I've killed so many people I can't even remember. I've done so many horrible things to achieve this goal, and I have no intention of denying any of that."

Holding her hand to her chest, the woman spoke out with pride.

"But in the end... that man is dead. And I can now stand in front of you - and free you of his reign."

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

One man in particular clapped alone, at which all the people began to clap alongside him.

"Thank you, Eclaire!"

"Thank you so much!"

"You must have endured so much for this!"

Cheers and laughter filled the crowd. Tears fell from their faces, and they all shouted out with gratitude.

However Eclaire's expression only became all the more serious at this praise.

For she alone knew just what she had become - in order to create this result.

[Quite good at putting on a performance, aren't you?], Four whispered. [And yet...]

Suddenly, a man stepped forward from the crowd.

"Truly, magnificent."

A particular businessman - covered in blood and guts - stepped forward, taking the attention of all.

"You have what it takes to be a ruler, Eclaire Armstrong."

Slicking his hair back and then spreading his arms in grand fashion, the man stood in front of Eclaire from below, looking up to her with a consuming smile.

"How unfortunate it is... that this freedom you wish to have purchased will be replaced with yet another form of slavery."

----

Immediately, four people came forward from the crowd, standing beside the businessman.

A young woman with her black hair in a ponytail, also wearing the outfit of a businesswoman.

A red haired man with a vicious grin, who now wore a fedora atop his head.

A man who wore the outfit of a policeman without a badge in sight.

And finally - a young girl with navy blue hair as long as she was tall.

These five stood in front of the crowd, taking control with smiles on their faces.

"I'm sorry to rain on your parade... but the keys to your shackles are being handed from one master to another."

Holding out his hand, the man glanced over to the statue of Gerard which took the center of this hotel.

Suddenly, the statue began to mold itself, reforming as a new figure - the very figure of the man who held out his hand.

Marcus Coran.

The people merely watched with astonishment, both shocked and terrified at the power this man held.

'What... did he just do?'

'Does this man have another strange ability... just as Gerard did?'

"Everyone, please bow down."

Holding out her own hand, the businesswoman made this order as she glanced at the people as if they were mere insects.

Suddenly, the people of the crowd felt a compelling urge to fall to their knees, reducing their postures to that of humble servants.

As if forced by an immense pressure, each and every person in that room obeyed - not of their own will, but of a strange force.

'What... am I doing?'

'What is happening to me?'

The people shivered in terror as their bodies were controlled against their means, however they could not speak out against such powerful figures.

"What's going on!? Who the hell are you people!?"

Or at least, one man held enough courage to do so.

"Silence. The Master and the Mistress are speaking."

The one who spoke this time was the young girl, who glared at the man who had shouted as if he were mere dust.

"No, I won't be quiet and sit back like this!! What the hell is going on!? You all owe us an explanation!!!"

In that instant, the young girl shot forward at a speed that the eyes of the people could not perceive.

Each person slowly turned their heads back to the man who shouted out to witness a scene unlike anything they had ever experienced - for that man's head was now resting upon the weapon of the young girl, who was covered in his blood.

"We owe you nothing."

With these words, the girl slowly returned to the front, the head mounted as if it were on a pike.

'Wha...'

'A... little girl...'

'She just...'

At that moment, each and every person trembled.

For it was as they gazed upon the emotionless expression of that girl - that killer - that they realized.

Truly, the key to their shackles had been passed on.

From a Master... to a monster.

----