Chapter 111
Chapter 111
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 111
Chapter Title: Black Letter (6)
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Ever since witnessing the success of the Radiance Church.
Isadora hadn't been able to shake one nagging thought.
Was the paradise she'd once believed to be the best solution truly the optimal answer?
Or had she simply been turning children into prostitutes, perpetuating their misery... passing down her own mistakes?
That doubt crept in at every moment, binding her heart tight.
"...Boss!"
"...!"
Caught in her thoughts once more, Isadora startled with a jump.
A subordinate who'd entered for a report was now looking at her curiously.
"Is something wrong, Boss?"
"...No, it's nothing. So, what's the issue?"
"It's not a big deal, but lately there've been some kids hanging around our turf. Looks like they're sweet-talking a few of the girls and siphoning off customers behind our backs. How should we handle it?"
"......"
Isadora sank into deep contemplation again.
Normally, she'd have ordered harsh punishment for anyone daring to challenge the mafia, regardless of the offense's severity.
In the back alleys, showing even a hint of weakness only led to more pointless bloodshed.
To deter constant challenges, she had no choice but to be ruthless.
"..."
Until now, she'd believed that Velvet Circle's order was the best for everyone.
Before Isadora built her paradise, most orphans in the western suburbs died before reaching adulthood.
Used as cannon fodder for gangs or selling their bodies on the streets for pennies until disease claimed them.
She'd worked tirelessly to stop that cycle.
To avoid seeing children die, she was prepared to commit any atrocity...
After a long hesitation, Isadora finally spoke.
"...Just warn them and chase them off."
"...?"
Her subordinate looked puzzled at the uncharacteristic order but bowed his head nonetheless.
"Understood, Boss."
Once he left and she was alone again, doubt flooded Isadora's heart once more.
Regret over actions she'd taken for everyone's sake.
As her convictions wavered, hesitation naturally followed.
And it wasn't just Isadora being shaken now.
"Boss, we just got word from Veridia Properties. They're doubling the rent for all Paradise districts starting next month."
"Again?! They just raised it last time!"
Veridia Properties.
A mid-tier corporation that owned most of the real estate in the western suburbs.
Infamous for squeezing tenants up to the limit of their income, ruthlessly exploiting the suburban poor.
And that exploitation didn't spare the Velvet Circle.
No matter how they strutted as mafia, they were mere gutter rats to corporations that could mobilize the ODPD.
A strict hierarchy of power existed between downtown corporations and illegal violent organizations.
As a result, a huge chunk of Paradise's operating profits already went to rent.
Yet they still weren't satisfied.
Her subordinate continued.
"Word's circulating about redevelopment plans for our area. Rumors say Veridia Properties is linking up with a major casino chain. They might be planning to sweep us out and build a new entertainment district in the suburbs."
Eyeing not just Paradise's revenue, but aiming to steal the entire business out from under them.
And it wasn't just them.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The schemes targeting Paradise didn't end there.
The suburbs always teemed with challengers eyeing the Velvet Circle's position.
"Lately, there've been frequent near-kidnappings of our working girls. Nearby gangs are up to something. And in some shops, mystery drugs are circulating. Even the kids are getting into it."
"......"
Truth be told, they'd dealt with this sort of thing before.
The old Isadora would have defended Paradise by any means necessary.
But now, she hesitated.
She no longer had faith in whether her choices were truly right.
And in this world, hesitation was a weakness.
"Boss, what should we do?"
"......"
The Velvet Circle was a mafia.
Everything ran on raw power logic, even within the organization.
Already, grumbling had spread among the executives that Isadora was wasting Paradise's profits on the lowly orphans.
They'd joined the mafia to seize power and wealth, not to play orphanage.
Until now, she'd kept them in check with her own abilities and discipline.
But the moment she faltered and showed weakness, what happened was...
["Tomorrow, execute at the regular meeting time."]
Inevitable, perhaps.
In a world where everyone coveted what others had.
Isadora's turn had simply come.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Velvet Circle executives' regular meeting.
Someone had spiked the drinks with drugs.
As Isadora's closest aides collapsed one by one, unconscious, Isadora clung to her fading mind alone.
"......."
"...."
Thud, thud—the sound of leisurely footsteps approached as a man entered the meeting room.
Marco. Her oldest subordinate, raised alongside her under the Madam, and the organization's number two.
He stood before the woman slumped with her head on the table, a bitter smile on his face.
Isadora managed to ask through her paralyzed lips.
"Why... exactly..."
A frustrated voice returned.
"Sis, I didn't want it to come to this. Honest. But this is all your fault. We could've had so much more... but you ruined it all with that pathetic family play. If you'd cared for us old siblings even half as much as those new orphan brats..."
His voice now gleamed with undisguised greed.
"You know what? Veridia Properties made me an offer. When the new casino opens, they'll hand me the whole flesh trade division. Merge Paradise with the casino, and we'll suck up all this city's wealth. The Velvet Circle will shed your chains and become a real mafia influencing downtown."
In her blurring consciousness, Isadora thought:
'This idiot...'
Her greedy, shortsighted little brother, always so frustrating. To think he'd go this far.
No matter how she looked at it, corporations had no reason to share profits with suburban crime outfits. They'd suck out the sweet parts, discard Marco, and turn Paradise's kids into slaves—a future crystal clear to her.
But her foolish brother, blind to it, pressed a cold pistol to the back of her head.
"Thanks for everything, Sis."
Just before the trigger pulled, the sprawled Isadora desperately reached out and hit the emergency button under the desk.
Bzzzzz—!!!
"Kuh!"
A piercing high-frequency screech erupted as a hidden mini-EMP in the room detonated.
The blast felled Marco and his traitor crew in an instant.
Pushing past their foaming, convulsing bodies, Isadora barely stood and staggered out of the room.
Clunk—!
Outside, waiting members shouted.
"What?! It's Isadora! Don't let her escape!!"
Already fully turned? Facing the approaching bruisers, Isadora leaned against the wall and triggered the hidden secret door switch.
The wall spun with a whir, dropping her into the secret passage.
"...!"
"...!!"
Hearing the commotion beyond the sealed wall, Isadora desperately climbed the stairs.
Her head spun. She couldn't grasp the full extent of this betrayal.
'If corporations are involved, most of the organization might be bought off.'
She tried contacting trusted subordinates, but her comm implant was dead from the EMP.
Swallowing her despair, she emerged from the secret passage into the chill surface air.
"......"
Darkened slums.
A world apart from underground Paradise's glittering neon.
But no time for sentiment.
Isadora limped on drug-numbed legs through the deserted streets, desperate.
Yet it felt hopeless.
Who could've foreseen a mafia boss ruling Paradise with wealth and power reduced to a penniless fugitive overnight?
Worse, she no longer trusted her own choices.
All those moments she'd convinced herself were necessary for protection, the best path—now felt meaningless.
Even the despair of returning to that abandoned orphan girl, gutter rat Isadora, washed over her.
'Where to... where the hell do I go?'
As she wandered aimlessly.
A lit building appeared in the distance.
'That's... a church?'
The Radiance Church's sole outpost in the western suburbs.
Most Paradise residents shunned it under Velvet Circle influence, yet it always operated.
'I don't get it.'
They could've expanded by force, offered Paradise folk better lives.
Why just leave us be?
Incomprehensible from start to finish.
Yet her single thought now was:
'Marco won't follow me there.'
Even that fool would fear clashing with the Radiance Church.
As if entranced, Isadora headed toward the light.
The drug haze intensified; the world spun.
She reached the church.
The lit chapel stood empty.
Isadora collapsed into a pew.
"Haa..."
Finally catching her breath, her eyes caught something above the altar.
The deity's symbol she'd glimpsed before.
Idly, she recalled: one reason ancient people turned to religion was seeking answers to unanswerable questions.
The meaning of life, reasons to live, the world's irrationalities.
Religion framed them as part of a transcendent order, comforting believers.
Could the god they worshipped answer the questions she'd harbored so long?
"......."
The drug dulled her mind to haze.
Leaning against the pew back, Isadora's head lolled slowly.
How much time passed? Waking after what felt like minutes of dozing, she sensed someone beside her.
"...!"
Startled, she turned to meet sky-blue eyes.
A silver-haired girl, beautiful as from a dream, gazed at her with concern.
"Isadora. You look exhausted."
"......"
Isadora couldn't tell if this was drug-induced hallucination or reality.
Perhaps that's why.
Her pent-up heart poured out unbidden.
"What the..."
Her tongue slurred from the drug; even she heard how messy it sounded.
But the girl nodded quietly, as if listening.
"...You're doing well, you say? Are you mocking me? I... I did my best too.... So why... what's the difference... between you and me..."
The girl understood the rambling as if by magic and replied.
"There's no difference. That's why you're doing well."
Speech grew harder amid the haze.
"But... the Church... we..."
Before Isadora could finish, the girl softly answered again.
"I was just lucky."
"...Lucky?"
"Yes, luck. So your good intentions aren't meaningless at all. They're plenty precious."
Isadora stared blankly, absorbing the gentle voice.
So kind, so warm—it unraveled her heart; she nearly accepted it wholesale.
That made it more infuriating.
'No difference? Then why couldn't I do better? Just bad luck? That's too... unfair.'
So she insisted petulantly.
"Then... prove it. This luck thing..."
The girl smiled faintly.
"Yes. I'll be your good fortune."
Warm radiance bathed Isadora, cradling her chilled body.
A warmth evoking forgotten childhood memories.
In that dreamlike scene.
Isadora's eyes slowly, peacefully closed.
"......"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next morning.
Isadora snapped awake in her familiar bed.
Plush sheets, cozy blankets.
Her room inside Paradise, where she always slept.
"........."
A peaceful morning like any other... yet her mind felt foggy, like wandering thick mist.
'...A dream.'
Last night's memories were vividly real. Marco's betrayal, collapsing allies, cold gun barrel.
Desperate escape, dragging numb legs through desolate streets.
And... the dreamlike silver-haired girl at the church.
Nightmare or good dream?
Unable to define it, she rose in a daze and left the room.
Then, a subordinate rushed down the hall.
One of her closest aides who'd drunk the spiked booze with her last night.
'He's fine. Must've all been a dream.'
Still uneasy somewhere, she debated asking about Marco's betrayal.
But mentioning a dream would just make her seem crazy.
As she hesitated.
The subordinate spoke first, urgently.
"Boss, breaking news! Veridia Properties went bankrupt this morning!"