Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Bread and Candy (2)
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Esty pointed out a boy who was nervously pacing at the street corner.
A youthful face—probably a high schooler, at most. But having watched him directly selling drugs to people, Esty approached without hesitation and grabbed the boy by the collar in an instant.
She then asked what she wanted to know.
The boy writhed in her grip, choking and gasping.
With terrified eyes and a strangled voice, he stammered out an answer.
"Guh... Th-the boss is at the club! Cl-Club El Dorado, in the downtown center!"
As the pressure holding him eased, the boy coughed violently and scrambled to his feet.
Without so much as a backward glance, he fled desperately into the alley depths.
I watched his retreating figure, unable to hide my complicated feelings.
'They're even using kids that young as dealers...'
But Esty didn't spare a glance at the fleeing boy.
She looked only at me, her expression still gravely serious as she asked,
"It could be dangerous. Are you sure you won't change your mind?"
"Please. I... I really want to hear the answer straight from him."
"...Understood."
Confirming my resolve, Esty made no further attempts to dissuade me.
"From now on, please don't leave my side under any circumstances."
That was all she said.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Consider the pinnacle of philosophy and humanities forged through human history: the judicial processes of modern society.
No matter how ironclad the circumstantial and physical evidence, even a criminal caught red-handed at the scene of the crime is granted the final right to defend themselves if they deem the verdict unjust.
It might seem frustrating or irrational at times, but it was the bare minimum safeguard—treating people as humans, ensuring those with immense power didn't arbitrarily ruin another's life.
But I wasn't the police or a judge in this world.
I had no qualification from the start to put someone on trial or punish them for their sins.
No one, nowhere, had granted me such authority. Thus, whatever I did here would merely be personal vigilantism for my own satisfaction, not the realization of public justice.
Even if the being who sent me to this city truly was a god.
I didn't believe I had the right to judge someone's life on the pretext of such authority.
So the responsibility and consequences of every choice from here on would be a burden I alone had to bear.
To protect myself,
I had a duty to verify everything thoroughly.
That was why I wanted to hear his defense directly, even if just one word.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Club El Dorado that the dealer boy had mentioned was located at the heart of 12th Street.
Flashing neon signs and holographic billboards lit up the night street like broad daylight.
Ear-splitting EDM blared from all directions, mingled with endless bursts of laughter from the crowds.
The flashy atmosphere unique to entertainment districts assaulted the eyes and ears.
Among them, El Dorado stood out as by far the largest and most luxurious club.
Its grand entrance adorned in gold and the garish lights enveloping the entire building evoked the image of a golden paradise, true to its name.
A multitude of young men and women in provocative outfits streamed in and out, stirring up a distinctive feverish energy.
But right now, I couldn't help recalling the scene from that alley just moments ago.
People dying wretchedly, addicted to drugs. That horrific sight, unfolding mere blocks away from here...
The blinding lights made my eyes ache, and I winced instinctively. But I didn't hesitate.
As we approached the main entrance, burly men in black suits who had been waiting blocked our path.
"Hold it."
I felt their sharp gazes scanning us from head to toe.
Before they could speak, Esty said flatly, without a change in expression,
"We're here to see Ricardo."
At her blunt words, the guards exchanged puzzled looks.
One of them snickered in disbelief.
"What? He called in more girls? Even after gathering so many already?"
"Boss is really planning to go all night today, huh."
They ogled our figures openly, smacking their lips in satisfaction.
"Well, can't blame him. The call girls who got here first were decent, but this caliber makes the money worth it."
The guard muttered that and jerked his chin toward the inside.
"Go on in. Boss is on the second-floor lounge."
"........."
Some unpleasant misunderstanding had arisen, but I didn't show it.
Considering our goal, it was actually lucky. No reason to feel bad.
I smoothed out my crumpling expression and entered the club naturally alongside Esty.
Thump, thump, thump-thump—
The moment we stepped inside, a wall of noise and heat unlike the outside hit us full force.
EDM beats that could tear eardrums, flashing lights that stung the eyes.
Amid it all, I could make out people dancing to the rhythm.
A rush of air thick with perfume and sweat made my head spin for a moment.
Esty snapped me out of it.
"Eve, this way."
Following her lead to the first-floor lounge, we found it packed to the brim, no room to breathe.
On the central dance floor, near-naked men and women thrashed in frenzied dance. The bars, tables, and half-hidden VIP booths around them flickered with silhouettes of lewd acts.
Piles of exorbitantly priced liquor and food on every table were extravagantly opulent.
Just stepping into one building had transported us to a world leagues apart from the streets outside.
A chaotic inferno crafted by humans drunk on money and pleasure.
The sight alone was dizzying.
And now, we had to weave through that chaotic throng toward the stairs to the second floor inside.
"Ugh..."
We began pushing through the crowd. Esty cleared the way ahead of me, but it wasn't enough to fend off all the unpleasant stares and subtle gropes from every side.
As we squeezed through the masses, sticky voices started clinging to our ears one by one.
"Ooh, these girls are cute. New ones?"
"Love that look on your faces. After the party's over, how about with me...? What's the price?"
Men reeking of booze and drugs leered openly, tossing crude jokes.
Pretending to brush past, some hands slyly grazed hips or waists—disgusting touches.
"Eek... Get off."
I gritted my teeth and endured. One word from me, and Esty would snap their wrists in an instant, but now wasn't the time.
Causing a scene here might alert our target inside and let him slip away.
So I forced a blank expression, staring straight ahead as I walked.
Piercing through countless lecherous gazes, come-ons, and foul breaths, we finally reached the stairs at the back of the floor.
The passage to the second-floor VIP area. As expected, more bruisers stood guard at the entrance, but they seemed to have gotten word from the first-floor guards. After a quick scan, they stepped aside without issue.
As we climbed, the first floor's racket faded behind thick soundproofing. In its place, low, secretive music played. The air was heavy with expensive perfume and cigar smoke, exuding a decadent aura.
VIP rooms lined the corridor on both sides, doors firmly shut. At the far end lay a spacious lounge.
A glass wall overlooked the entire first floor, yet no noise penetrated.
Every piece of furniture and decor screamed luxury, a class above the downstairs garishness.
And in the deepest recess of that opulent lounge sat a massive velvet sofa.
Slouched into it like he owned the world was the man we sought.
Ricardo Rodriguez, boss of the Ricardo family.
"......"
The man, who looked to be in his mid-forties, gave off a flashy yet tacky vibe.
His disheveled silk shirt looked costly, but several buttons were undone. A gleaming gold chain hung around his neck, and chunky gold rings glittered on every finger under the lights.
Clinging to him were several young women in outfits barely more than underwear. One leaned on his shoulder, coquettishly nuzzling; another refilled his glass.
One fed him grapes directly into his mouth, and he accepted as if it were natural, groping her rear openly in return.
The table beside the sofa was littered with pricey liquor bottles, small bags of unidentified drugs, and inhalation devices.
I swallowed my rising nausea and stared at him.
Then, one of the women caught my eye, flinched, and whispered something in his ear. Ricardo finally turned to look our way.
In his booze- and drug-hazed, bored expression flickered the interest of spotting a new toy.
I felt his lecherous gaze raking me up and down.
"Hoo... New girls? You look promising. Wait a sec..."
He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing me more closely.
"...Better than expected? They send an ace like you this late? Ha ha ha."
Grinning in satisfaction, he waved off the women around him.
"That's it, all of you, get lost. Tonight, I'm sticking with these two for some real fun."
The fawning women slunk away without protest at his word. He patted the sofa seat beside him, beckoning us.
"Come on, sit here?"
We approached at his gesture but sat not right next to him, but on the opposite sofa, one seat away with the table between us.
And I met the man's eyes directly.
"........."
Whether my attitude irked him or for some other reason, Ricardo stretched out an arm from his slouched position, reaching to fondle me. But just before his hand made contact, Esty sitting beside me swatted it away roughly.
A sharp smack! rang out, and his hand swelled red.
He scowled, baring his displeasure.
"Hey, what the hell? Who do you think you're—"
But he couldn't finish. It was due to the cold, emotionless glare she fixed on him.
In the brief silence, I spoke first.
"One thing. I came here personally because there's something I want to ask you directly. I'd appreciate an answer."
I leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with him.
"Why the hell are you doing this?"
Sensing something, Ricardo's gaze sharpened in an instant. The drunken haze cleared, replaced by wary alertness.
"You... You're not the host's girls."
"Answer me."
As I demanded again, the air around us grew icy. The other women near Ricardo edged away uncertainly.
He let out a short sigh, then leaned back comfortably on the sofa, regarding us leisurely.
"Why do I do this? Ha ha. Oh, you mean this?"
He plucked a blue pill like a candy from a small bag on the table and flicked it with his finger.
It was the size of a fingernail.
"Know what this is? Our latest product, Heaven Candy. A new fentanyl-based drug. Get just one down their throat by any means, and boom—loyal customer for life. Cool, right?"
He began explaining proudly.
"Sure, quality-wise, it's nowhere near the premium stuff from the homeland. But that's not the point. The beauty is we can dump it cheap and in massive quantities. Perfect for the locals here. Dirt cheap."
He held the blue pill up to the light as he continued.
"Get it? New product needs a new market. So we're expanding territory. There—answer enough?"
I kept glaring at him unwaveringly.
Seeming to catch the implication, he chuckled and added,
"Or were you asking why the drug business at all? Ha ha, money, obviously. Money."
"What the hell do you even do with all that money?"
Ricardo stared at me like I'd asked the world's dumbest question.
"You kidding? With money, you can do anything. Anything!"
Suddenly, he grabbed a half-empty bottle of top-shelf liquor beside him and poured the rest straight onto the carpet.
"Know how much this champagne costs? A local worker couldn't afford a sip after three months' pay. But I can just... dump it on the floor. How's that?"
Then he speared a thick steak from a piled plate with his fork, took one deliberate bite, and flung the whole plate behind him.
"Even gourmet food gets boring—toss it!"
And like she was an object, he grabbed the rear of a woman standing awkwardly nearby. Ignoring her startled yelp, he grinned lewdly and said,
"Kyaa—!"
"And I can have pretty girls like this whenever I want!"
After this display of excess, he spread his arms wide, smirking smugly, and lectured us like wayward schoolkids.
"That's what money buys. You wouldn't get it, being so young and naive. In this city, power and law don't matter. Enough cash, and you can play god."