Chapter 150: An Apology
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 150: An Apology
"That black-hearted swindler!"
Every single word out of that man's mouth sounded like the truth, but the moment you put them together, they turned into a pack of bold-faced lies!
Muen realized he’d only fallen for that "secret auction" crap because he’d been influenced by the mysterious, shady atmosphere of the black market.
Fuming with rage, Muen felt like storming back and burning that crooked shop to the ground.
But even as his teeth ground together with an audible crunch, he didn't have the time to go back and settle the score with that merchant. He could only swallow his pride and suck it up for now.
The auction was about to begin.
The seductive beauty from earlier had been so desperate probably because she wanted to reel in one last crowd before the start.
From that alone, one could see just how... easy it was to get into this auction.
You didn't even have to pay anything; a sexy, enchanting older sister would literally sway her hips over to you and beg you to attend.
Wasn't that a dream? Wasn't that a joy?
It should have been a total blast!
Of course, that didn't apply to someone like him—someone who had been scammed by a black-hearted merchant and then branded a "pervert" by said older sister for trying to strike up a conversation.
However, his anger came fast and left just as quickly.
Not far away, a skinny figure also wrapped in a black robe struck up a conversation with one of the beauties handing out flyers. A moment later, the man collapsed, wailing and pounding the ground like the ultimate sucker who had slaved away for ten years to save up for a wedding, only to have his girlfriend cheat on him and run off with all his money.
"My money! My hard-earned money! I didn't even have time to get it warm! To think they used a flyer to scam me! That damned swindler!"
Watching this scene, Muen suddenly felt much better.
At least he hadn't actually lost anything, whereas the guy next to him seemed to have paid cold, hard cash.
Watching someone else lose money is truly more satisfying than making it yourself.jpg.
Muen’s mood brightened instantly. Humming a little tune, he stepped into the luxurious building.
...
The interior decoration was even more opulent than Muen had imagined. Crystal chandeliers were inlaid with precious gemstones, casting a soft, radiant glow. The floors were polished to such a high sheen that they reflected one's shadow, and even the walls were covered in gold leaf.
"Strange."
Muen scanned the surroundings, which reeked of "nouveau riche" gaudiness. He wasn't impressed; instead, he felt a sense of confusion.
"This isn't the usual style of the Great Nobles in Belland."
He didn't have much time to dwell on it.
The hall was already quite crowded. The newly arrived Muen looked unremarkable, yet he wasn't ignored. A professional waiter stepped forward and asked respectfully:
"Good evening, sir. Are you here for the secret auction?"
"Yes."
"May I see your invitation?"
It’s just a damn flyer, isn't it? Now you're calling it something so formal.
Muen’s lips twitched as he handed over the crumpled flyer.
The waiter made a show of inspecting it before casually tearing it up and tossing it into a trash bin.
"The invitation is in order. Please follow me."
He followed the waiter through the grand hall and down a dim corridor until they reached a fork in the path.
To the left, he could hear the boisterous roar of a crowd; to the right, it remained quiet and secluded.
"Would you prefer a standard seat or a private booth?"
"What's the difference?"
"The booths offer a better view, allowing you to see the auction items more clearly, and they provide superior privacy," the waiter said respectfully. "Furthermore, we offer specialized services for our booth guests."
"Doesn't sound like much of a difference to me..."
For a martial artist of Muen’s caliber, a slight difference in perspective wouldn't affect his ability to observe an object.
In the end, however, Muen chose a private booth. It wasn't because he was curious about the so-called "specialized services," but rather because he felt it was better to be cautious when away from home. There was no need to pinch pennies over something like this.
...
Inside the booth, Muen sat on a soft sofa that was nearly as wide as a bed. Through the floor-to-ceiling window in front of him, he curiously surveyed the entire auction hall.
The view from the booth was indeed exceptional; he could take in the whole hall at a glance, while everyone else had to sit in cramped rows like they were in a movie theater.
According to the waiter, the window was made of one-way glass, so there was no need to worry about being watched by others.
But I get the feeling this one-way glass isn't just to prevent people from looking in.
Just as he was thinking this, Muen heard a knock at the door.
"Sir, the special service you requested has arrived."
"Come in."
The door was pushed open gently. A woman wearing a miniskirt and heavy, seductive makeup—though she could still be called a beauty—walked in with a hint of nervousness, swaying her slender waist.
Muen turned his head toward the sound, and when he saw the woman's face, he couldn't help but feel stunned.
"You're... the beauty who was handing out flyers?"
"You—"
The seductive woman froze as well.
Even though Muen was wearing a black robe, she recognized him by the style of the robe, his physique, and his tone of voice.
It was that pervert who had intentionally tried to hit on her!
Why was he here?
And why was he in a private booth?
The fee for two hours in this booth was a full five thousand Emiels—that was an entire month's income for her.
How could a pervert like him...
At this moment, even the thick makeup on the woman's face couldn't hide her pallor. No matter how slow she was, she realized that Muen’s identity was anything but simple.
She feared that her "pervert" comment earlier had offended someone she shouldn't have.
Muen, however, didn't care much. He was long used to being called a pervert; he hadn't taken the woman's words to heart at all.
"Come here and peel a banana for me."
Muen beckoned to the woman and then slumped back onto the sofa in a decadent sprawl.
Since he’d paid for it, he might as well enjoy the sinful comforts of the bourgeoisie.
The woman approached timidly, but instead of reaching for the bananas on the table, her hands reached toward...
"Wait, what are you doing?"
Muen scrambled up in a panic, covering his crotch.
"I didn't mean that banana! And is this place really that high-quality yet affordable? Five thousand gets you that kind of service?"
If this were the Upper District, a club with this kind of decor would probably cost eighty to a hundred thousand just to get through the door.
That was why Muen hadn't initially thought the beauty was there for that. Even if she were, he assumed it would cost extra!
"Normally, it wouldn't," the woman said, biting her lip. "This is my apology."
Though she hadn't been here long, she had heard stories from her seniors about the darkness of this place.
If he were an ordinary person, she would have the protection of the boss behind her and wouldn't need to fear a few words spoken in anger.
But for a guest of such high status, if she couldn't earn his forgiveness, the boss might personally turn her into a "human vase" and gift her to the guest just to please him.
Profit above all else—that was the iron rule here.
"There's really no need for that."
Muen sighed. Looking at her expression, he knew exactly what she was thinking.
It was truly bizarre. Even with his face covered, it felt like his "Yellow-Haired Villain" aura was still working overtime. Why did everyone assume he was going to coerce a young lady into doing something unspeakable?
He hadn't even said any of those classic "Netorare" lines like, "Miss, you wouldn't want your boss to find out you offended a guest, would you?"