Shadowy black eyes stared up at Sigmarus from a lean muscled man sitting behind the customer counter just inside the gym’s doors. Thick bulletproof glass separated the two aside from a small open section for passing items back and forth or collecting payments. Matted black hair covered the man’s forehead but couldn’t completely hide the black and brown upside-down oak leaf tattoo above his brows. Aside from possibly being stronger than Sigmarus had been a few days ago, nothing else about him was particularly noteworthy.
The man simply observed Sigmarus’ appearance for a few seconds before saying, “Fifty credits for an hour.”
“Are there showers?”
The man nodded and pointed toward an electronic sliding door at the opposite end of the room.
Satisfied, Sigmarus raised his wrist-com while asking, “Advance pay?”
“Obviously.”
Apparently the man behind the counter wasn’t much of a conversationalist himself. Thankful that he wouldn’t need to get involved in this gang member’s business, Sigmarus slid his wrist-com through the small gap in the glass and said, “Two hours.”
Rather than replying, the man simply extended his own wrist-com to accept the transfer of one hundred credits. As soon as he heard the ‘ding’, he ignored Sigmarus’ presence and returned to lounging about on his worn-down swivel chair.
Unbothered by the man’s dismissive attitude, Sigmarus walked directly toward some treadmills lined up against a wall of mirrors at the opposite end of the room from the entrance. Along the way, he noticed a surprising lack of customers. There was only one bald black man curling some dumbbells near the window with his back to the center of the room. Sigmarus couldn’t help halting in his steps for a moment since he had never seen such a large and imposing man among the muskrats before. Thick veins bulged from his overly built neck, shoulder, and back muscles each time he curled the sixty-pound dumbbells firmly clenched in the iron grip of his beefy hands. Along with the ripples of flexing muscles, an upside-down leaf tattoo which covered most of the man’s upper back trembled as though ruffling in the wind. Three bold words were tattooed above the leaf and across the back of his shoulders. Red Street Ogre.
He seems to be a high-ranking member of the Fallen Leaf gang. Better avoid offending him.
While thinking such things, Sigmarus started warming up on one of the treadmills. Initially, he only planned to set it to a low speed, but quickly discovered that even the fourth speed setting could barely make him walk a fraction faster than normal. Gradually, he increased the speed to seven, which finally allowed him to jog. As the whir of the treadmill and taps of his brisk steps drowned out his other thoughts, he wondered how he could achieve this speed with only a light jog. Every stride felt dextrous and free, cutting through the air’s resistance as though it didn’t even exist.
Is this an effect of the Freedom Technique? Or is it because of increased stats? He wondered, considering this was his first opportunity to try running since obtaining the Universal Apparatus. Figuring out the answer would have to wait until he could either increase his stats or Freedom Technique’s level again. That being the case, he simply focused on his warm-up, gradually upping the treadmill’s speed to maximum.
* * *
With a bright smile plastered on her face, Grace returned to the brothel after guiding Sigmarus. Those twenty credits he had given her would be enough to feed both herself and her sister for a couple days.
Upon her return, the woman who had trained her approached and told her, “Valerie, the Madame wants to see you in her office.”
Tilting her head slightly, Grace asked, “Eh? Why does she want to see me?”
In response, the woman shrugged. Without saying anything else, she glanced elsewhere with a glint in her eye. Before Grace could say anything, the woman walked off and grabbed the arm of a man wearing a similar meld-suit to Sigmarus’. Her ample breasts hugged his bicep as she looked up into his eyes while inviting him to visit the brothel.
She’s so forward, Grace thought. I won't have to go that far in the future, will I?
Since the Madame wanted to see her, she could only think that far on the subject before walking inside the brothel. The dense and obscene smell hovering inside the building immediately smacked her in the face. Her nose wrinkled, but she forced herself to ignore it. Working in a place like this meant she needed to get used to it. She was well aware of that.
A cross-shaped hallway lined with rooms where actual ‘business’ was conducted stretched toward the opposite wall. While breathing shallow breaths to prevent the stench from overwhelming her senses, she walked down the hall towards the stairwell leading to the second floor. Upstairs, there were several rooms which housed most of the hostesses and showgirls, though she herself chose not to live here.
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At the end of the hallway was a single wooden door. She lightly knocked on the wood with her knuckles and waited for the Madame to give permission to enter.
Following a brief silence, the husky voice of a mature woman calmly said, “Come in.”
After receiving permission to enter, Grace pushed open the wooden door which creaked on its hinges. She couldn’t help admiring the extravagant furniture no matter how many times she entered this room. A carved wardrobe containing a significant number of dresses and risque outfits stood against the wall not far from her. Beyond that was a bed even bigger than the shack she and her sister called home. It even had sheets and quilts! Even the few chairs around the Madame’s desk were clean and well-maintained. They were the comfiest chairs she had ever seen. This place was too luxurious for her humble self.
In perceived contrast to herself, the woman sitting behind the desk glowed with womanly charm. Even after training here for a week, Grace hadn’t met a single woman as beautiful as her. Perfectly straightened blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and down to her hips. Her sharp blue eyes, although darkened from experiencing the lows of life, radiated confidence and intelligence. Every inch of her smooth skin glowed with health. Of course, it was a well-known fact among the employees of this brothel that she could only maintain her beauty into her late twenties since the owners of this brothel monopolized exclusive access to her and provided everything they could to keep her healthy and satisfied.
While peeking from side to side and imagining how nice it would be to own even one piece of furniture from this room, Grace slowly trod forward, stood humbly in front of the woman’s desk, and said, “Leena told me you wanted to see me.”
The Madame nodded and sighed before saying, “Go ahead and sit, Grace.”
Surprised that the Madame called her by her real name rather than her floor name, Grace slowly sat down on the closest seat. If the Madame was calling her by her real name, then whatever this meeting was about concerned her personally rather than the business at large. As such, she remained silent and waited for the Madame’s words.
“One of the girls told me you escorted a man somewhere after he promised you a tip?”
Grace’s eyebrow rose slightly. “Oh, um, yes. Was that not okay?”
Hardening her eyes into a strict gaze, the Madame said, “It is my responsibility to make sure all you girls are safe. Although most people are afraid to offend the owners of this building, you never know if someone stupid might steal you away. I know how desperate you are, but please be careful not to walk off anywhere while in uniform, okay?”
“Oh. He was a nice person though…”
The Madame sighed resignedly, but still said, “Please be careful. You never know what might happen here. Living outside is already dangerous enough. You’re going to make my hair fall out if you worry me too much, you know?”
Apologetically lowering her head, Grace said, “Okay. I’ll be careful in the future.”
“Good. Besides that, you earned a tip from guiding that man earlier, right?”
“Oh, yes! He was nice enough to give me ten credits for it!”
The Madame briefly smiled at the girl’s excited tone, but sternly added, “You do remember that half of what we earn goes to our owners, right?”
“Ah!” Grace suddenly exclaimed while covering her mouth with both hands. Then, her voice lowered as she mumbled, “Uh… I forgot.”
“For your sake, please don’t forget in the future, or they may force you to remove your v-guard before you turn eighteen.”
Grace shivered at the Madame’s warning. The v-guard was a small oval-shaped panel developed using a branch of meld tech and served as a modern equivalent to the chastity belt. Its original purpose was protection, but now it was being used as a veiled threat. Contrary to the obvious intentions of whoever designed it, the brothels of Red Street only used them to skirt around the rules of underaged prostitution. If an underaged girl didn’t give up the front, then everything else was fine, right? Or so was the reasoning of most of the gangs who owned the brothels here. Threatening to remove it before she turned eighteen if she didn’t hand over half her earnings was blatant robbery, but most muskrats didn’t care about such situations at all. Even the leader of the Fallen Leaf gang who was rumored to have a vendetta against such actions couldn’t erase it from these streets due to heavy opposition. One gang couldn’t fight against two, and there were five major gangs vying for control of Red Street.
“Many people heard that man offer credits to guide you,” the Madame continued after letting her warning sink into the young girl’s heart, “so, unfortunately, I can’t look the other way no matter how much I want to. How much did he give you to guide him?”
Grace’s voice trembled as she answered, “Ten credits.”
She purposefully hid the fact that Sigmarus had given her an extra ten credits since she didn’t want to squander his kindness by giving half of it to the gang who owned this place. In her mind, she couldn’t help regretting the fact that she had been brought to this brothel since she had lacked knowledge of the underground scene before ending up here. If she had the chance to go back, she would definitely look for one of the brothels owned by the Falling Leaf gang.
Hoping that the gang wouldn’t be able to find out about the fact that Mister Sigmarus had given her an extra ten credits, Grace held back a tear of regret while transferring five credits over to the Madame. Even though it was for her own safety, she felt bitter. Those five credits were part of a kindness she had never received from anyone aside from family, of which only her sister remained. Handing over those credits left a weight on her heart as though she had done something unforgivable even though it was only a small action.
Apparently noticing Grace’s sadness upon transferring the credits, the Madame smiled gently while mentioning, “It seems that man left quite the impression on our little lady.”
“Eh?” Grace’s eyebrows rose and her eyes widened since she hadn’t expected such words. Her cheeks quickly reddened at the insinuation.
Unable to refrain from teasing the girl after seeing such a reaction, the Madame covered her mouth and giggled before joking, “Maybe you should seduce him so that he can steal you away from here?”
If her face was only red before, it was now the color of an apple. However, Grace quickly shook her head. Then, her gaze turned toward the floor as she said, “No. I'm already dirty. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did that.”
“Huhu~ Our little Valerie is too innocent.”
Unable to handle the Madame’s teasing anymore, Grace hastily excused herself and exited the office. She then spent a few minutes calming her nerves before returning to the floor.
Behind her, the Madame rested her chin on her delicate hands. A wide smile formed on her face as she thought about the girl’s animated reactions, and, not knowing a certain someone recently spoke similar words, whispered to herself, “I hope her eyes can always stay that bright.”