Back-Alley Allies and the Gilded Cage
That evening, right after her strange conversation with Areli, Luciel returned to her room only to be summoned by Madame Tana before she could even catch her breath. Tana’s office was as suffocating as ever, thick with the musty stench of old dust, cheap jasmine oil, and acrid tobacco smoke. Luciel felt as if the very air in this room was rotting her lungs.
"You have a moment, don't you?" Tana asked, her sticky gaze tracking Luciel like a predator sizing up its prey.
Luciel made no effort to hide her disgust. "Don't tell me you're throwing more premature ejaculators my way. Do you have any idea how exhausting those bastards were yesterday?" she grumbled. The irritation from yesterday's string of quick-shot clients still lingered in her voice. It wasn't just the annoyance of performing half-hearted service; it was the sheer humiliation that she, the former Emperor, had to cater to the fleeting, pathetic pleasures of such insignificant men.
"Oh, come now! What's not to like? They blow their loads in seconds so you don't have to deal with them for long, and they pay handsomely for the privilege. What more could you want? Unless..." Tana smirked, her eyes narrowing as if trying to peer straight into Luciel's soul. Her gaze cut through Luciel like a sharp blade, pricking at a hidden desire buried deep beneath her pride—one that Luciel herself refused to acknowledge. "...you're secretly hoping for a client who can actually satisfy you?"
Luciel flinched inwardly, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks despite herself. She quickly shook her head. "N-no! Absolutely not!" Her forced smile twisted awkwardly. Within her, a chaotic tempest of imperial dignity, survival instincts, and strange, unidentifiable sensations clashed violently.
Tana let out a soft chuckle and waved her hand dismissively. "Relax, it's just an errand this time. Go to Tiger Jewelers near the casino back alley. Fetch the gold ornament I ordered."
Tiger Jewelers... The very name dripped with a sinister aura. It was notorious for being located in the deepest, most perilous depths of the slums. Luciel knit her brows. "The casino back alley? Isn't that place incredibly dangerous? You want me to go there alone?" Images of the dark, damp alleyways flashed through her mind. It was a lawless wasteland teeming with brawls, drunks, and every crime imaginable. Back when she was the Emperor, she had known such places like the back of her hand, but with her current fragile body, she couldn't guarantee her own safety.
"Don't worry, I won't send you alone. Besides, it's about time you familiarized yourself with the local geography. No one knows what kind of clients you'll encounter in the future, or what situations you'll find yourself in. Who knows? The day might come when you have to take control of those back alleys yourself." Madame Tana's words carried a strange weight, as if she were testing Luciel, or perhaps probing her potential. Her deep, calculating eyes gleamed with a sly knowingness, as if she faintly sensed the truth of Luciel's past.
As Luciel walked down the hallway, grumbling under her breath, a figure leaning against the wall spoke up. Standing quietly in the shadows like a sentinel, she projected an aura that was both intimidating and reassuring. "Tana gave you an errand, didn't she?" At the sound of the familiar, robust voice, Luciel turned her head. There stood Lahara, arms crossed. Her dark skin and toned, muscular physique offered a strange sense of security. A wild, battle-hardened energy clung to her, marking her as someone intimately familiar with violence.
"Lahara? You're coming with me?" Luciel asked, surprised. Lahara wasn't usually the type to meddle in others' affairs. Though strong, she was highly pragmatic and preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble.
"The casino back alley is a bit too much for you to handle right now. A fresh, pretty little thing like you going in there alone? It's obvious what would happen. I'd better protect you before you get yourself into a nasty situation. Besides, I could use some fresh air anyway." Luciel shrugged at Lahara's words. Beneath the half-orc's blunt tone lay a genuine, quiet concern.
"And here I was, trying to live quietly so I'd never have to set foot in a place like that..." Luciel sighed, resigned. She had wanted to sharpen her blade of vengeance in peaceful obscurity, but it seemed fate had no intention of letting her rest.
"Which is exactly why I'm tagging along. In exchange, you're buying me dessert on the way back. I heard there's a new strawberry tart in town that's absolutely divine." Lahara grinned shamelessly. Her easygoing, cheeky personality was always refreshing and easy to be around.
"Wait, it's not free? Are you charging me a protection fee?" Luciel rolled her eyes in disbelief. Of course, nothing in this world came without a price.
"This is the Feast, sweetie. Nothing is free. At this rate, they'll start charging us for the air we breathe." Luciel shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Strangely, being around Lahara brought her a sense of peace. It was a bizarre feeling of camaraderie—something she had never experienced during her days as the Emperor, when she had viewed the entire world as her enemy.
The two set off side by side. Behind the glittering main streets, the damp, dark alleyways untouched by light felt like a gateway to another world. Creaking, dilapidated signs, the acrid smell of tobacco mixed with rotting garbage, and splatters of dried blood from past brawls painted a grim picture. As the former Emperor who once held the world beneath her boots, Luciel was no stranger to such sights. Yet, in her current powerless body, she couldn't help but feel her nerves fraying. Her hand instinctively drifted toward her waist, only to find empty air. The sudden realization that her blood-stained warhammer was no longer there brought a fresh wave of anxiety.
"...Do you come here often?" Luciel asked, partly to break the awkward silence and partly out of genuine curiosity. She knew very little about Lahara, other than the fact that she was strong, blunt, and fiercely loyal.
"The gamblers and back-alley kingpins are often our VIP clients. I've popped in once or twice to dig up dirt on them. Most of them are far more pathetic than they look, though. But what about you? Aren't you scared in a place like this? That pretty face of yours doesn't suit these gloomy shadows at all." Lahara glanced down at Luciel, her eyes gleaming sharply even in the dark, as if trying to pierce through her facade.
Luciel gave a curt reply. "...Scared? Hardly. Places like this used to be my specialty. Though, not anymore." Yet, anxiety writhed in her chest. She had once ruled these very streets, painting them red with the blood of her enemies, but now she was nothing more than a powerless whore. The contrast of her past glory only made her present vulnerability sting all the more.
After retrieving the package from Tiger Jewelers, they were heading back when a drunkard stumbling in a corner blocked their path. He had a brutish face, spoke in a rough, slurred voice, and let his filthy eyes wander shamelessly over Luciel's body. "Where are two pretty little thangs like you headin' in a rough place like this at this hour~? Why don't you come have some real fun with me?" His sticky gaze crawled over her skin. Luciel didn't bother to hide her disgust. It was utterly pathetic that she couldn't even crush a worthless insect like this on her own anymore.
As Luciel instinctively stepped forward, Lahara smoothly moved to block her. Given her towering stature, the man immediately shrank back. In the blink of an eye, Lahara hoisted the drunkard into the air with a single hand as if he were a mere ragdoll. Her raw physical strength was clearly beyond human limits. "Beat it, punk. Unless you want to find out what your teeth taste like." Confronted by Lahara's murderous glare and low, rumbling voice, the man's face turned completely pale. He turned tail and fled, stumbling blindly into the shadows of the alley.
On the way back, Luciel offered a genuine compliment. "That was... incredible strength." Lahara shrugged nonchalantly. Though her expression remained casual, a faint trace of pride flickered in her eyes. "Well, I'm a half-orc. This is basic stuff. Nothing to write home about." Luciel chuckled and gave a small nod. She liked Lahara's unvarnished honesty and sheer strength. For the first time in this hellhole, she felt as though she had found someone she could actually call an 'ally.'
"Thanks. If you hadn't been there, things could have gotten incredibly annoying." Luciel was truly grateful. Without Lahara, she would have had to waste precious energy on a worthless thug, or worse, endure an even more humiliating ordeal.
"In that case, I'll take that strawberry tart with extra whipped cream~ Oh, and add a cup of coffee to that!" Lahara grinned playfully, pushing her luck. Her unpretentious attitude finally broke through Luciel's tension, coaxing a genuine laugh from her.
Late that night, they sat in a quiet corner of the Feast's small dining area. It was a humble space with nothing but a worn-out table, creaking chairs, and dim lighting, yet it felt strangely cozy. The sweet aroma of fresh strawberries and cream tickled their noses as they shared the tart. Luciel murmured, almost to herself, "We make an odd pair, you and I. It feels like we come from entirely different worlds."
Lahara speared the last bite of the tart with her small fork, flashing her trademark boisterous grin. "We get along because we've got similar edges. Appearance, background—none of that crap matters. What matters is... we're both here together right now, aren't we?" Her words carried a deep, unspoken understanding. Sitting with Lahara, Luciel felt an odd sense of peace. It was a comfort she had never once experienced during her reign as Emperor.
Having finished her treat, Lahara stood up with a satisfied sigh and waved goodbye. "Today was fun, Luciel. Let's go out again sometime. But next time, somewhere brighter and livelier than those damn alleys." Watching Lahara's sturdy back recede, Luciel let out a faint smile. Perhaps, even in this living hell, a tiny seed of genuine connection could take root.
The next day, Madame Tana congratulated Luciel in a voice far more animated than usual. Her face was a mask of calculating business sense blended with genuine excitement. "Congratulations, Luciel! Starting today—no, starting right this second—your quarters are officially upgraded to the VIP Exclusive Ace Room! I'm so proud of you, Ciel! You've finally blossomed into the true undisputed ace of the Feast! I knew I had an eye for talent!" The Madame crossed her arms, beaming with triumphant pride as if she were the one being promoted. Her golden eyes sparkled with the anticipation of drowning in gold.
"This world has gone completely mad. Or maybe I'm the one losing my mind," Luciel muttered under her breath, barely audible. A VIP Exclusive Ace. It was nothing more than being transferred to a more gilded cage.
"It's decided. From today on, you are the Feast's VIP Exclusive Ace. No more cheap, mundane clients. You will only cater to our most distinguished, wealthy VIPs. Of course, you'll receive the absolute finest treatment to match, and your price will skyrocket to several times what it is now. Look forward to it!" Tana's voice overflowed with absolute certainty and thrill. To her, Luciel was now a walking goose that laid golden eggs.
Luciel scowled deeply. This was far from welcome news. If anything, it felt like sinking even deeper into a dark, inescapable swamp. Her plans for vengeance seemed to be drifting further and further out of reach.
"Why me? I just want to keep my head down and live quietly. There are plenty of other girls. Experienced ones, like Areli or Miren-eonni."
"Because you're good at it, Ciel. You're special. You don't talk too much, and you get the job done flawlessly. Plus, that cold, haughty attitude of yours is exactly what drives the VIPs wild. They don't just want physical release; they crave the thrill of conquering an untamed mare. You understand that instinctively." Madame Tana patted Luciel's shoulder gently, treating her like a prized pet. The touch made Luciel's skin crawl with disgust.
As Luciel opened her mouth to protest, Tana cut her off. "Do you think I don't know how you handled those quick-shot clients yesterday? You acted cold and distant, yet you still managed to coax them into paying far more than usual. That's what matters. In this business, the process doesn't mean a damn thing as long as the results are good. And they said they found you utterly captivating. Like an unbroken filly. That rebellious glint in your eyes only fuels their desire to break you." Madame Tana flashed a knowing, satisfied smile. Since her words were entirely accurate, Luciel found herself unable to offer any rebuttal.
The new room Tana led her to was on an entirely different level compared to her previous cramped, dingy quarters. Soft, warm magical lighting bathed the room in a cozy glow, and the floor was covered in a plush, expensive carpet so thick her feet sank into it. The air carried the rich, subtle scent of high-grade aromatic oils. The bed was massive, far grander than her old one, draped in exquisite silk sheets that practically invited sleep. The pillows, stuffed with the finest goose down, were incredibly soft, offering a heavenly sensation at the slightest touch. In one corner, an unnecessarily luxurious scented candle burned, diffusing a faint, seductive fragrance. For a fleeting moment, Luciel felt as if her imperial bedchamber from before her fall had been meticulously recreated here. Everything was decadent and lavish—a gilded cage designed to bind her.
"High-class clients care deeply about atmosphere. When they spend that kind of money, they expect the absolute best environment and service. You're the type who instinctively caters to those demanding tastes, so you're perfect for this. Make yourself comfortable, and work hard. The money you bring in is the future of the Feast—and the only way you'll ever pay off your own debt." Madame Tana smiled warmly, gave Luciel a few more instructions, and left the room. Her retreating figure exuded the smug satisfaction of a victor.
Shortly after, word spread, and the other women of the Feast began trickling in, their faces filled with curiosity. Their expressions were a complex mix of undeniable envy, slight jealousy, and genuine admiration. Bruka was the first to let out a loud whistle of awe. "Damn, Ciel! You've hit the absolute jackpot! This is insane! The whole room practically reeks of gold! Sleeping in a place like this is my dream! I guess some girls just have all the luck!"
Miren sat lightly on the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the blankets like an appraiser. Her eyes were sharp and discerning. "My, my, look at these sheets. The texture is unreal. It's so incredibly soft... Wow, is this genuine high-grade elven silk? I heard only the highest-tier VIPs get to use stuff like this. You must have really caught the Madame's eye. Or did you show her some... special talent?" There was a sharp edge to Miren's teasing. Luciel pointedly avoided her gaze.
Sia clung tightly to Luciel's arm, her green eyes sparkling like a child's. "Eonni! Are you going to live here from now on? I'm so jealous! Can I move in with you starting today? Please? I want to be with you! I wonder what your bed feels like... If you ever get lonely at night, I could always..." Though her eyes looked innocent, the implication behind her words was anything but. Her small hand slyly wrapped around Luciel's waist.
Overwhelmed by the barrage of gazes and chatter, Luciel ushered the girls out of the room and slowly shut the door. She desperately needed to be alone. Standing in the empty, yet still unfamiliar and unsettling room, she whispered to herself—a question directed at her own soul, or perhaps at this absurd world. Her voice carried a deep, crushing fatigue, mixed with a strange anxiety, resignation, and a tiny, dangerous spark of anticipation.
"What on earth did I do wrong? Why does everything keep spiraling like this...? I only wanted to quietly, so quietly, sharpen my blade of vengeance..."
To think that she, who had once been the Emperor, was now a VIP whore. What an absurd, tragic, and utterly ridiculous fall from grace. Her pride felt shattered into dust. Yet, at the same time, she realized she didn't entirely hate this comfortable, luxurious room—nor did she completely dread the new experiences that might await her. This realization plunged Luciel into an even deeper pit of confusion and self-loathing. Perhaps, at the very bottom of this abyss, she was discovering a new kind of pleasure. Where am I drifting? What truly awaits me at the end of this road? Is it vengeance, or absolute corruption? Or perhaps... both? Maybe I will find the power for revenge within my own depravity. Leaning against the window frame, Luciel gazed out at the darkening sky. Her eyes held a light deeper and more complex than ever before.