Arc#3 Chapter 45: Hostile Takeover (4) (Patreon)

Elsamina and her party of lowlives stood before a set of ornate double doors, framed by intricately carved statues of naked women. There were also two large men with rippling muscles threatening to burst out of their clothes guarding either side.

Sensing the weight of the impending encounter, Greyviel pivoted to face them, his gaze piercing through each member of the group as he issued a final warning.

“The boss is through this door, talking business with our esteemed guests.” The old merchant looked them in the eyes one by one. “I assume I don’t have to tell you that it is imperative that they think favorably of our little band of misfits?”

“We know, old timer.” Ballor dismissed him with a wave before gesturing for Greyviel to proceed. “Just lead us inside already, I’m sure they’ll like what I have to offer.”

Elsamina’s face darkened with resolve as she absorbed the implications of his words. Failure was not an option for Elsamina. The lives of the young women she regarded as sisters hung in the balance, their already dire circumstances poised to worsen if she faltered.

And beyond that, she understood all too well that her own fate would be far from favorable if she couldn't achieve success.

‘If I’ll become someone’s plaything, I may as well be their favorite one…’

She reasoned that just as children cared for their cherished toys, her prospective master would treat her well if she managed to win his favor.

This was what Elsamina wanted to believe, seeking solace in the idea. Otherwise, with the knowledge of her brother’s demise, she would truly go mad if she had nothing to cling to.

"Hm, it seems you are all prepared," Greyviel acknowledged, his gaze scanning the serious expressions on the faces behind him. Satisfied, he turned toward the door and rapped on it thrice. "It is I. Ballor and Xanthus have arrived to pay their respects."

“You may enter.”

In response to the deep voice which radiated calmness, the two men flanking the entrance pushed the doors open.

Much like the reception room, the inner room was meticulously decorated to radiate opulence. Shelves lined the walls, adorned with costly bottles of wine aged for decades, even centuries. Positioned in between were armed guards, their presence imparting an air of intimidation.

And in the middle of the room, sitting on three separate couches positioned like a triangle around a circular table, were three very important men.

“Boss Valmir.” Ballor bowed at a ninety-degree angle, being so surprisingly respectful that Elsamina thought he’d been switched with a different person. “It’s been a while.”

Valmir, a middle-aged gentleman with neatly styled gray hair and a serene smile, acknowledged the greeting with a nod. “Indeed it has, Ballor. I’m happy to see that you are still well. Oh, and one of our guests has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Sporting a smirk, Ballor confidently advanced to introduce himself to the two VIPs present in the room. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Ballor, and I lead the Silver Cross’ Drug and Human Trafficking division.”

In response, a man whose countenance seemed eternally etched with a scowl stood up and approached him. The sullen man swept back his shoulder-length black hair before holding out a hand. “My name is Elvar, and I am the chairman of The Grace Company.”

Ballor reached out and shook Elvar’s hand firmly. “Naturally, I am familiar with your esteemed reputation, sir. In fact, I am a frequent customer… Why, my current robe is actually a custom piece from your brand! If I remember correctly... I ordered about a year ago, give or take.”

The sullen man’s face slightly brightened at that. “The one you have on certainly looks nice, but I believe we’ve advanced our techniques tremendously this past year. Now that we’ll be working even closer together, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for me to provide something more satisfying.”

“I’d love that! Oh, and speaking of satisfaction…”

Ballor’s predatory gaze drifted over to the other VIP — a man so obese that one had to wonder how he made it through the narrow tunnel to arrive here.

‘Did someone teleport him here…? That’s the only way it’d make sense…’

“Ah…” Ballor’s smile widened when his eyes fixated on the rotund figure. I assume that this gentleman is…”

Any positivity on Elvar’s face disappeared when he followed Ballor’s gaze. “He’s my younger brother, Desmor.”

Even though he was the subject of conversation between two men who weren’t particularly lowering their voices, Desmor didn’t appear to care.

“Haah… haaah…” Rough breaths were exhaled out of Desmor’s mouth as he lustfully eyed Elsamina up and down. The portly man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his rolls of flesh quivering with every movement. With a strained smile, he waved at Elsamina. “H-h-hello… M-my name is Desmor.”

“Elsamina, my dear.” Ballor turned back, staring meaningfully into her eyes while maintaining the smile on his face. “Your future master just greeted you. Go and say hello.”
‘So this man really is to become my master…’

Elsamina felt a mixture of repulsion and trepidation as she processed the reality before her. This man, Desmor, was to become her master. While she had encountered men of varying body types in her line of work, Desmor's sheer size seemed overwhelming. She couldn't help but envision the potential dangers of being in his presence, fearing that she might be crushed under his weight with a simple roll in his sleep.

‘Calm down, Elsamina… Just think about it, it doesn’t really matter what type of man you got as a master. You just have to endure it for a few seconds at most, and they’d tire themself out.’

Taking a deep breath, Elsamina tried to maintain composure and summoned a flirtatious smile.

‘Ugh. I’m not used to this…’

It was an unfamiliar role for her, as she had relied on her natural beauty and allure in the past, never actively engaging in seduction or feigning interest.

But it seemed that the lessons from her seniors at the brothel worked, since her target’s lust only intensified.

“I love her! I want her! I need her!!” The fat man yelled at the top of his lungs. He leaned forward and seemed about to topple off the sofa, but a guard managed to grab his shoulders from behind.

“I’m glad you like her.” Ballor rubbed his hands together like the sleazebag that he was, sending a probing glance at the sullen man. “But Elsamina here is very skilled in serving men, so perhaps your elder brother would like to have a taste as well…”

“NO!” Desmor wailed, spittle flying from his mouth. “SHE’S MINE! ONLY MINE! I’M NOT SHARING WITH ANYONE!”

Elsamina couldn’t help but feel conflicted after witnessing the spectacle.

‘At least I won’t have to worry about being passed around…’

Elvar’s frown deepened as he spat. “Enough! You’re an embarrassment. And you know I have no interest in women as old as her, so shut up!”

Desmor looked at his brother with tears falling from the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, elder brother! You really treat me well!”

“Tch. Of course, I do.” The scowling man scoffed before he turned to address the others in the room. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Even if he’s like that, I can’t seem to be rid of him. Loathe as I am to admit it, he’s family.”

Valmir smiled, nodding in understanding while throwing a pointed glance at Ballor. "It's no trouble at all."

"I feel the same," Ballor chimed in, placing a hand on his chest with a disingenuous smile. "Personally, my own family relationships were far from ideal, but I admire the bond you share with Mr. Desmor. I wish I was even half as close to my brothers and sisters."

"I appreciate your understanding.”
‘These guys are really cranking up the bootlicking…’

Elsamina pondered why the owner of an Arkhanian clothing line was so important to an organization that made its money from dishonest means. The pieces of the puzzle started to come together, raising more questions than answers.

‘Is it connections…?’

But they were in a foreign country that had closed its borders for a very long time. Just how great would an Arkhanian company’s connections in Aizen be?

Besides, at a cursory glance, the clothes worn by ordinary Aizenian citizens could be considered quite expensive back at Arkhan. Though she hadn’t spent much time in the country, she’d made careful use of the journey to the pub, observing everything around her.

As such, the “luxury” goods provided by Elvar wouldn’t have much appeal to Aizen companies, aside from the novelty of being foreign.

Regardless of her thoughts, she was just a commodity to the people around her, so they obviously wouldn’t stop their conversation to explain anything to her.

“Mr. Elvar,” Ballor smiled as he shifted closer to the scowling man. “I seem to have heard your brother say something about Elsamina’s age… Well, if you would allow me, I believe I have plenty of girls that, although of lower quality than Elsamina, are quite good in their own right. And they’re all well-trained too!”

Elvar raised a brow and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

“Heh. I’m glad that I have your attention…” Ballor grinned. “I feel guilty about only being able to offer a gift to Mr. Desmor. Let me make it up to you by showing you a catalog of our finest girls. They’re young, at about twent—”

“Younger.”

“Oh…” Ballor’s eyes widened before he nodded in understanding. “I see. Then perhaps someone in their late tee—”

“Younger.”

A moment of silence followed Elvar’s words before Ballor grinned like a demon. “I apologize for being slow of wit. I believe I have just the type of girls that you would like. In fact, Elsamina is very well acquainted with them, and she will be delighted to know that their reunion will not be far off.”

“Elder brother!” Desmor yelled energetically. “Buy that one!”

“Shut up.” Elvar spat, before turning to face Ballor with a wicked smile. “And I’ll be happy to take you up on that offer.”

“Excellent!” Ballor exclaimed, likely happy at the prospect of sucking up directly to the elder brother, instead of through the younger one.

“D-d-did you hear that, Elsamina?” Desmor smiled goofily as he looked at her. “You’ll be with your friends again! Aren’t you happy?”

“I’m very happy…” Elsamina strained to maintain the smile on her face. “Thank you, master.”

“No problem. Y-y-you can just thank me later…”

Clap!

“Now then,” Valmir spoke, putting his hands down. “I’m glad that Mr. Desmor is very happy about his new slave, and that Mr. Elvar will be getting one too… But we came here for business. And I hope that words of thanks are not all we can get from you, Mr. Elvar.”

“Of course, not.” Elvar sat back down on his sofa. He then glanced back at Ballor’s group, who were all still standing between the table and the door. “Will you not be sitting down with us?”

“We dare not assume that our ranks are similar to yours, Mr. Elvar.” Ballor smiled ingratiatingly. “We’ll be fine just standing here, don’t worr—”

BANG!

Without warning, a deafening explosion shook the air as the only door to the room burst into pieces.

#####


‘Wow, it smells like ass in here. Not that I’ve actually smelled someone’s ass before…’

Reivan’s face twisted into a grimace as he neared the entrance of a certain pub. The stench was much more effective on him too, since his olfactory senses were so developed. He wasn’t even there yet, and he already felt like his nose had literal crap injected into it.

And to top it all off, he even had a black mask covering the lower half of his face! Reivan had truly never smelled something so foul — except the horrible smell from that rat archon that ruined his life.

“Ugh…!” Unable to take it anymore, Reivan took out a handkerchief and stuffed it up his nose. Even though it was a bit unbecoming for a prince, he hoped to be forgiven since he was in disguise anyway — nobody would mistake him as the second prince since he currently had a head of black hair and bright blue eyes.

Valter, unaffected by the stink, spoke from within Reivan’s shadow. “It’s a type of poison, Your Highness. Its only effect is dulling your mind a little… similar to alcohol. Except it also acts as a way to discourage people from coming close to the shop.”

“That's very interesting, but really, kindly do something about it. Please.”

“Very well.”

A strong gust of wind burst out of the pub’s entrance, most likely carrying all the stench along with it.

Reivan smiled and took a deep breath, gaining an increased appreciation for the clean air that was readily available to him in the royal palace. With light steps, he ventured into the ruined pub that his knights had utterly ransacked.

“This place has seen better days, I hope.” Reivan surveyed the interior, taking note of the numerous overturned barrels of ale, a few shattered tables, and a fat man’s corpse in the corner of the room. Finished with his cursory observation, he procured a posh armchair from his spacial ring and sat down. “Valter, how are the other kids doing? Did anybody die yet?”

There were a few moments of silence following the prince’s question, but he knew the Valter was focusing so he waited patiently.

“No deaths,” Valter said. “A few injuries here and there, but nothing a few days of rest and some badges can’t fix. Most of the heavy lifting has been done by the knights leading them, so all they had to do is bully the other gangs with their guns.”

“I sure hope so! It took a whole lot of elbow grease to round up all the guns that were gathering dust in the armory! And I had to have them cleaned up too. In hindsight, that’s probably how Father found out about everything… It worked out really well though, so I won’t complain.”

“Yes, Your Highness. As I said, I was not the one who told him about it. I am innocent. His Majesty’s eyes are all-encompassing…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Reivan ignored the guardian knight’s excuses and looked at the setting sun in the darkening sky. “Anyway, I hope this doesn’t take long. There’s still a lot of work to do and I’d rather finish it all today.”

“I’m sure the knights down there will work hard.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will.”

After all, he’d chosen the ones with important appointments after the operation. Of course, the assault on the bosses of the organization would take much less work and time since the knights didn’t have to worry about holding back as much as the knights assigned to subdue the other gangs and organizations in the area. Reivan was actually giving them preferential treatment here.

At the same time, he hoped their motivation wouldn’t make them rush too much — haste makes waste after all.

‘Meh. They’ll be fine.’

Turning on his holostone to stave off the boredom of waiting, Reivan placed his trust in the four knights he sent down to the basement.