Chapter 85.1: Injured Civilians
There was no one who disliked youth.
However, some people adored the vitality of youth, the potential of youth, and the creativity of youth, while others simply revered youth itself. Among the latter group, there were two distinct categories.
The first type of people regarded youth as a plaything—a commodity—while the second type regarded youth as capital—don't be mistaken; it isn't the sort of capital that generates profits, but rather, the capital to be willful.
The first group had a fervent inclination to draw the young and naive into their sordid circles, employing money, power, force, and even honeyed words at zero cost to toy with and exploit inexperienced youngsters.
The second group, primarily consisting of young people, mostly believed that there were only two phases in life: adolescence and youth. Without any reason to back them up, they reckoned that only the young had the right to flirt with dreams and indulge without restraint. Such individuals had an enthusiasm for mocking older strangers as "old ladies" or "greasy middle-aged men" as if they could never reach the age of those they mocked. Interestingly, within this group, there were some that overlapped with the first category and viewed others as playthings.
In China, these two types of people often had to hide behind masks to engage in their revelry; in a healthy human society, objectification, transaction, and discrimination of fellow humans, at the very least, in established rules and within the bounds of social norms, were prohibited and socially punishable.
However, in an environment of human society that wasn't as healthy… The conditions were ripe for these two categories of people to run amok, and they would even prosper more than ordinary law-abiding citizens.
Weisshem didn't start out as a "financially affluent" town. Although the main street in the town was grandly constructed, the incomplete city walls exposed the fact that the town was nothing more than a nouveau riche creation. The three-meter-high walls could only cover the old town area, and the town's expansion in recent decades did not include walls; instead, it was guarded by the sturdy architecture of the brothel buildings.
This sort of makeshift exterior town defense was more than sufficient for Weisshem. The town was situated in an inland area with no main rivers around and not bordering other countries, only needed defending from wild beasts, the occasional wandering monster, bandits, and marauders.
"Elegant Dreams," a colossal entertainment establishment larger in scale than "Gold Coast," consisted of a four-story main building and two three-story auxiliary buildings. High walls, even taller than Weisshem's walls, connected the three buildings, with barbed wire lining the top. Had Ossirian, Lyka, or young Brook been at this club, they wouldn't have had any chance of escape.
In private, attendants of Weisshem referred to Elegant Dreams as a prison and its owner, Garcia Greene, a tyrant. However, when Greene learned of these nicknames by chance, he not only didn't get angry but also generously rewarded the slip of the tongue from a young attendant with two silver coins.
Greene loved the moniker "Tyrant." He was happy to hold such a unique position in Weisshem's "hospitality" circle.
Garcia Greene had once served a baron as a coachman for six years. The seemingly humble position of a coachman shouldn't be underestimated; in actuality, the ones closest to those noble, powerful gentlemen and privy to their masters' secrets were personal coachmen, if not butlers.
Greene, who had diligently driven the baron to various mistresses' residences for six years while protecting his master's secrets, gained the opportunity for an external posting when the baron needed to gain financial muscle to get close to certain countesses.
Thus, as an ambitious young man in his early twenties, Greene gained the authority to manage the baron's discretionary funds. He left the Rhine Kingdom's capital and arrived in the remote southern fringes of Weisshem to set up shop. While continually supplying "extramarital affair funds" to the baron for years, he quietly established a sort of "kingdom" of his own.
Whether the dedication of his youth to the baron's clandestine affairs held any value or meaning had never concerned Garcia Greene.
He only cared for one thing. Elegant Dreams with its 42 enforcers, 19 servers, and 271 hostesses, where he was "king."
At five in the morning, a time when most people were soundly dreaming, the "King's Game" at Elegant Dreams had only just begun.
The basement of the main building was Greene's "playground." The cold blue brick floor was perpetually wet from a mixture of blood, tears, nasal secretions, and even some peculiar bodily fluids.
Green sat on a plush sofa, sipping red wine. Before him was a coffee table, and across the table, bound to stone pillars, were a man and a woman.
The man was incredibly robust. His trembling muscular body adorned with whip marks was a testament to his identity… He was an enforcer of Elegant Dreams.
In contrast, the woman was frail, with disheveled long hair framing her sunken cheeks. Her flesh seemed saggy, and even while bound, she couldn't maintain her balance, her body hanging to the side.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Greene, it wasn't intentional… Please forgive me…" the trembling enforcer continuously pleaded under Greene's frightening gaze.
He had personally carried out several corpses out of this basement and understood all too well what being brought down here entailed.
Garcia Greene chuckled and put his wine glass down. He picked up a riding crop and pointed it at the half-dead woman. "Look at Sibyl, she can't even resist if I were to feed her cow's piss. Yet, you somehow 'failed to notice' she stopped taking the fattening drug. Tell me, Ben, how much is your apology even worth?"
Ben shuddered and closed his eyes in agony.
"Maybe I would have understood if you showed pity to a young and pretty hostess…" Greene circled around from behind the coffee table and stood in front of Ben. "But you violated the rules for this kind of trash. Tell me, Ben, are you right in the head? Are you suddenly going to go crazy like those church fellas say?"
Ben's face paled.
To instill fear in people and discourage anyone from associating with heretics, most churches employed the most severe punishment methods for those who lost their minds—typically, burning at the stake.
Ben no longer dared to hide anything. Stammering, he gave his reason, "N-no, Mr. Greene, it-it's actually… just that Sibyl is nearly of age… I-I didn't want her to spend her last half-year…"
Weisshem belonged to the Rhine Kingdom, and though there was a tacit understanding with regard to rules that applied to countries in this world, including the Rhine Kingdom, noblemen that wielded power and authority still had to act like they were decent people on the surface.
For instance, everyone knew that Weisshem's attendants had debatable origins, had no personal freedom, no employment benefits, no salaries or retirement pensions, and perhaps even lacked the guarantee of regular meals. However, the noblemen still documented some seemingly humane "labor protection" for these unfortunate souls.
One such rule stated that attendants working in Weisshem's special industry needed to have their "employment contracts" terminated if they had worked for 10 years or reached the age of 26.
This particular rule, whether it was intended to give the attendants a glimpse of freedom or enable owners to legitimately dispose of "problematic assets" without consequences, at the very least offered the attendants a chance to break free from their "employers." This meant they no longer had to endure being forced to consume the highly harmful fattening drugs originally intended for livestock, and perhaps, there was hope for them to live beyond the age of 30.
Sibyl was approaching 26—at least, that was what was written in her "contract" (indenture).
On hearing this, Garcia Greene was first slightly taken aback before he burst into hearty laughter.
"By Lady Gold Coin! Oh, Ben, I never dreamed that I'd have such a pure and innocent young lad as you working under me!" Greene chortled so hard tears welled up in his eyes. Hugging his belly in one hand, he waved the riding crop in the other and beckoned at the marks on Ben's battered body. "You are deserving of praise, dear Ben. This is your reward from me. Like it? Do you like it, huh?"
Ben gritted his teeth and endured the pain, not daring to let out a scream.
During the "King's Game," when the King declared a reward, anyone who showed resistance would undoubtedly meet a grim fate.
Greene continuously administered over a dozen lashes until he began to wheeze. Only then did he stop.
When Ben, who was about to faint from the pain, realized that Greene was panting, the latter returned back to the sofa and sat down, hiding his slightly trembling right hand while using his left to pick up his wine glass.
This despicable man, while hiding his breathlessness behind the guise of having a drink, peered at Ben in jealousy.
He was past 40, and Ben, who had just turned 30, possessed physical strength and stamina that far surpassed him.
It was only by recklessly trampling on these youthful and vibrant lives that Greene could find some semblance of balance.
Suddenly, the stairs to the basement echoed with hurried footsteps.
The only one among the hundreds of Elegant Dream's staff who dared disturb Greene when he was relaxing was Phoebe, a stunning 19-year-old headliner attendant.
Indeed, it was the gorgeous Phoebe, dressed only in a sexy nightgown, who pushed open the iron door to the basement. She rushed in, flustered, and went straight to Greene, completely oblivious to the bloodied Ben and barely alive Sibyl.
"Something is happening upstairs, Garcia! Something terrible!" Phoebe clung to Greene's arm intimately, suggesting that their relationship was more than just that of an employer and an employee. "I-I hear many people running and screaming. As if something has happened!"
Greene liked this sort of young fool that reckoned she was different from others just because he gave her a few extra benefits. Gently, he consoled the young lady, "Don't worry, dear. Stay right here. I'll head upstairs and take a look."
Phoebe nodded and watched adoringly as Greene left.
She was very beautiful and also young. Given her age, she couldn't possibly distinguish whether Greene's "extra tenderness" toward her was merely for amusement or if he was genuinely captivated by her pristine charm.
After Greene left the basement, Sibyl finally summoned the courage to move.
Self-proclaimed "King" Garcia Greene had no interest in wasting his efforts on trash like Sibyl; however, the punishment that Ben endured had also terrified this unfortunate woman.
Sibyl, who had gone the entire day without food or water, couldn't even cry when she saw Ben's miserable state. All she could manage was a faint, apologetic murmur.
Ben shook his head and turned away, refusing to look at her.
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