Yawning tiredly to the point that he couldn’t keep his eyes open, Sigmarus stumbled toward Red Street. He hadn’t woken up this early in years thanks to his evening work shifts, and the Freedom Technique’s meditative state could only replace sleep once every two days. Despite his lack of sleep, he trod onward along the familiar, dimly lit main street of this underground district. 

Thanks to his lack of sleep, he barely noticed the passage of time before arriving at the entrance to Red Street. Surprisingly, a quiet and subdued atmosphere greeted him. He raised a brow due to the noticeable lack of stalls along the roadside. There were so few that he could count them with just his fingers, and all of them sold foodstuffs. Even fewer customers spoke to the stall owners. 

The businesses located in the buildings behind the stalls were mostly open. Out of those, the most notable ones were a shifty barbershop decorated with several barber poles with chipped paint, a clothing resale store barely kept standing with sheet metal and iron poles, and a wrist-com repair shop mostly blocked off with metal window guards. Some of the other businesses looked like half-hearted restaurant ventures or bars. Altogether, the businesses occupied close to half of the building space on this stretch of Red Street. The other half of the buildings were in disrepair, falling apart at the seams or burnt out by arson or natural means. 

Ignoring both the businesses and the handful of stalls, he silently meandered toward the Blue Moon brothel. As he approached, he saw a few women wearing risque dresses with plunging necklines revealing their cleavage. Sigmarus raised a brow again since he had expected the same flimsy attire as before. 

At some point, one of the two women chatting casually in front of the Blue Moon brothel noticed that Sigmarus was walking straight toward their establishment. Without a shred of hesitation, she broke away from her conversation partner, walked over with a seductive gait, and smoothly locked arms with him. Luckily, she grabbed the arm on the opposite side of his chest injury.

Sending an inviting smile his direction, she asked, “Care for some fun with this young lady this morning?”

Although he had expected such an invasion of personal space, Sigmarus’ eye twitched. Such an intimate action made him uncomfortable since receiving any type of affection, whether sincere or fake, was basically a foreign concept to him outside of books. Despite that, his heart remained as firm as a stone. These women would never be able to break through the walls around his heart. 

Expression stable as the surrounding foundations, Sigmarus allowed her to lead him toward the building as he coolly replied, “No thanks, but do you know if Valerie is here?”

Ever so briefly, the woman’s smile faltered. She closely examined his face while asking, “So you want to spend time with the new girl, eh?”

Sensing a hint of jealousy in the women’s voice, Sigmarus struggled to hold back a frown while answering, “Not exactly.”

The woman halted her steps a few meters away from the front door of the brothel and,  with her brows slightly furrowed, examined his expression again. By the looks of it, she was trying to figure out his intentions. After a second or two of contemplation, she dropped her inviting expression and let go of his arm. Adopting a more natural but placid expression, she inquired, “You don’t feel like a normal customer. Do you know her?”

“Somewhat.”

“Hmm… Wait here for a minute, then. She is probably getting ready right now.”

“Thanks.”

After staring at him with curiosity for a moment, the woman left him alone and entered the building. For the most part, the surroundings quieted once more aside from some distant conversations held out of earshot.

Now that the woman wasn’t impeding his movements, Sigmarus wriggled his fingers and shivered due to the itch and throb of his injuries. He casually leaned against the blue-colored brick wall of the brothel, closed his eyes, and sighed. Arriving here in person made him second guess his decision to come here. Before he could think too much, though, he felt the outer edge of his perception quiver. He immediately opened his eyes and discovered that the other showgirl had suddenly appeared next to him. Her eyes burned with suspicion as she glared back at him.

“What do you want?” Sigmarus bluntly asked.

“You are looking for Valerie?”

“Yes. And?”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“If you just want her because she’s young, then please leave.”

Due to the unexpected reply, Sigmarus raised his brows. He could hear an almost maternal protectiveness in the woman’s tone. For a moment, his lips curled up ever so slightly but quickly returned to normal.

“That isn’t why,” He firmly replied.

The woman folded her arms beneath her breasts and narrowed her eyes. 

“Why else would you ask for her?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm… You’re probably better off worrying about yourself.”

“I don’t need to worry about myself. Unlike me, that girl isn’t a piece of trash. She doesn’t belong here, so leave her alone.”

Raising a brow at the firm declaration, Sigmarus thought about how to reply, but the brothel door swung open, interrupting his train of thought. The woman from before walked outside with another girl in tow. When the girl saw Sigmarus, she halted her steps and widened her eyes. Then, she opened her lips to say something, but they only quivered silently. However, she quickly overcame her surprise. Her lips lifted into a friendly smile weighed down by a hint of guilt.

“I thought you didn’t go to brothels, Mister Sigmarus.”

The sudden statement surprised the other two showgirls, but Sigmarus ignored them. He simply clicked his tongue and retorted, “I don’t.”

“But you’re at one now? Did you fall for me the other day~?”

“No.”

Grace tilted her head, obviously puzzled. “Then why are you looking for me.”

“I’ve got my reasons. You gonna invite me in, or not?”

A flash of disappointment flashed through Grace’s eyes, and she blinked a few times as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “Umm… sure. Follow me.”

With that, Grace silently led Sigmarus inside, leaving behind two very confused showgirls. Sigmarus’ chest wound flared up when he pushed himself away from the wall, forcing him to wince. 

Letting the door close on its own, Grace led him to a room near the end of the hallway. A stale stench hovered in the air, making his nose wrinkle. 

When the two of them entered the small room, Sigmarus looked at everything with curious eyes. Only a few pieces of furniture decorated the room: a simple bed, a loveseat, and a few miscellaneous tables and stools. He stared at the furniture with envious eyes. Every single piece of furniture in this one room made his own shabby furniture look like trash, not that it wasn’t already.

As he rued his own lamentable circumstances, he heard the door click shut behind him, followed by the latching of a single lock. He looked over his shoulder and saw Grace fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Umm… You can sit down or something, I guess?” She hesitantly offered.

Sigmarus nodded and nonchalantly plopped down on the loveseat. Once again, his wounds flared up.

“Ah, fuck my life…” He groaned.

Midway into a seated position on the other cushion, Grace stopped and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Tilting her head, she decided to ignore the statement and lowered herself onto the cushion. Staring at the coffee table in front of the loveseat, she sat straight with rigid posture. Her hands clenched the hem of her skirt.

Several seconds of awkward silence passed before she muttered, “I’m not very expensive since I’m new, but, uh… I’ll still do my best.”

“I’m not here for that shit.”

“Eh? What?”

“I’ll still pay you for the time, though.”

For a moment, Grace focused on him with blank eyes. Then, she blinked, scrunched her brows, and mumbled, “No. Wait. I don’t understand. Didn’t you come here for me?”

“Well, yes, but also no.”

“I don’t get it. Why are you here then?”

Rubbing his chin with his less injured hand, Sigmarus contemplated on how to explain why he came here. Eventually, he simply said, “Because I’m an idiot with useless morals.”

“Hah? Would you come to see me if you had morals?”

Sighing, he decided to be as blunt as normal and answered, “I overheard my coworkers talking about running a train on you, and it made me sick to my stomach. So, here I am taking the time they would have used.”

Stunned silent, Grace shivered. Mixed emotions floated through her bright hazel eyes. Once the explanation settled in her mind, she bit her lip and quietly said, “You don’t have to do that. I… I need the money anyway, so it’s fine.”

“Tch. There aren’t a lot of things I hate in this world, but lying is definitely at the top of that list.”

Clenching her skirt to the point her knuckles turned white, Grace pressed her lips together in silence. 

Observing the girl’s reaction, Sigmarus decided to figure out if taking up this girl’s time would result in mutual benefit or if it was just wasting time for both of them. As such, he inquired, “If you don’t mind my asking, were you forced to work here?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Like, did someone buy you at some auction and throw you in here or something? Or did you choose to work here on your own?”

Grace fell silent and stared at him with a trace of wariness in her eyes. After studying his face for a few seconds, she asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know if this is a waste of my time or not.”

Eyes glazing over as she fell deep into thought, Grace’s expression changed so many times that Sigmarus couldn’t count anymore. Honestly, he found it amusing. He no longer felt much emotion toward anything, so seeing her put so much thought into a conversation warmed his heart.

Eventually, she refocused on him and hesitantly spoke once more. Voice laden with emotion, she explained, “I needed a lot of money because of my sister, and the owners of this place gave it to me.”

“Sister?”

Grace nodded. “She… she is sick, and the medicine cost a lot.”

“So you work here to pay back a debt?”

This time, she shook her head. “I wanted to earn enough money to buy medicine for her, so I looked for somewhere to work, but... since I lived in... Shingle Alley… nobody else would take me. They even gave me an advance pay.”

Sigmarus lowered his gaze and rubbed his chin. Shingle Alley. A street full of makeshift shacks built from scrap and sheet metal. It was basically the slums of this district and had the highest levels of radiation out of all the livable areas in the underground. Even other muskrats looked at the residents of Shingle Alley with contempt. However, Sigmarus had lived there for a few weeks before becoming a foundation melder. All he could feel toward them was a semblance of pity.

Moving on from the painful memory, Sigmarus queried, “Your parents?”

Instantly, Grace’s posture shrank. Her eyes moistened. She bit her lips to hold back the tears which tried to force themselves out. She didn’t need to say anything for Sigmarus to figure it out. 

Wiping her eyes, Grace mumbled, “They’re… not here anymore.”

Alright, Sigmarus thought, I guess this was worth my time.