Chapter 2
Trouble
Bludgeoning the door open in a hurry, Saruyama rushes into the locker room, turning his head left and right and walking ahead until he gets a sight on his star inside the toilet area, with his back turned at the entrance:
"What is this ruckus?! I heard a shout!"
Whirling Ryo by the shoulders, so rapidly that his body shook once, he ascertains if he's not wounded by quickly glancing all over him, astounded to see a small cut along the line of his cheekbone, then looking at the man on the ground to the furthest side of the room. His sly eyes widening at the sight of the girl behind the duelist, his hands letting go of him, an accusing finger pointed at her.
"So this is where you were hiding!" he grumbles. "You're not escaping again!"
As pale as paper, she steps back, legs wobbling like jelly until she bumps into the sink, at the dead end of the bathroom, her hands can't even get a proper hold behind her.
They know each other? And why is his manager so upset? He can see the veins of the man popping out on his face. Ryo is even more intrigued now.
The heavy breath of Saruyama comes off heated, he stomps his way to the pink-haired girl, she pushes him away, darting into the nearest toilet cabin, attempting to close the door, a hand blocking it, easily winning the contest of strength against the girl, barging the door open, she staggers a few steps back, her knee joints striking the toilet seat. Yanking her out of the cabin with a strong hand, he grunts:
"Stop resisting!"
Ryo's eyebrows raise, it's unusual for his manager to be this physical, but considering how the girl cannot overcome his strength, maybe he can delude himself in his fantasy of power like this.
That girl, however, has a peculiar behavior, despite being roughed up and literally dragged with her squeaky shoes sliding on the floor as she tries to anchor her feet in place, her face red from the strength she exerts, she doesn't shout, or try to call for help, only gasping for air.
"I'll call someone to clean this," Saruyama casts a disdainful glance at the unconscious man at his feet. "You can come with me, but I have my hands full at the moment as you can see."
He cackles at his own joke, the girl's lips quaking abound as if she mumbles words, nothing audible to him, though, as in a last attempt, she looks Ryo's way, almost pleading for some action on his part as his manager hauls her out of the room, his uninterested gaze tracing her every step adds to her desperation. Is he really not going to do anything about it at all? How cold-blooded can he be?
Following his promoter, they walk silently down that eerie corridor, his gaze is focused ahead, as if the rest of the world didn't matter to him, despite that, a question escapes his lips:
"Are you going to explain yourself, Saruyama?" there's this subtle, but narrowed glare he briefly lands on the man.
"Oh, about her?" he's stunned to hear the voice of the youngster, he was always so reclusive and cautious. "Ah, it's not what you're thinking."
"I didn't say anything."
"I know what you're supposing."
"A mind-reader, aren't you? You color me impressed with your talents."
"She's one of the matters I had to settle, a friend of mine brought her here and she escaped, but now that we've found her, it's all back into course," he lightly shakes her arm, making her pout in disgruntlement, crinkling her face in dislike at him.
"I didn't know you were into young girls," his steps halt, whirling around and walking in front of his manager, crossing his arms in a stern posture. "Last I heard, that's illegal."
"Funny of you to say that," he sniggers, rolling his eyes around the whole setting as if to remind him where they are. "Like I've said, you're mistaking the situation, she's no young girl," grabbing her chin, he lifts it up, forcing her to look at him. "She turned eighteen just this year. Lucky she! By law, she's fully responsible for her own acts, which means that for all intents and purposes, she's here by her own will."
As if. It's obvious she was brought here against her will.
Slapping his hand away, she frowns in contempt, he replies to her attitude with a snicker, finding fun in the fact she could not get free from his grip.
"But I understand your curiosity," his shrewd eyes land on Hell Kaiser. "Let me tell you one thing: everyone here, no matter who, even this innocent-looking girl, all of them are tethered to the underground one way or another. You of all people shouldn't be surprised."
Ryo sneers at the usage of words, but he knows better than start a discussion on that with the slippery eel, letting the man run his mouth free to his heart's content.
"This one here has a huge debt, she was supposed to pay with work, but she messed up her opportunity and since she can't duel like you or even speak, for that matter," a disparaging smile comes to his lips, leaning in her direction, speaking hoarsely to scare her more. "She'll have to compensate and pay her debt with the only thing she has to offer: her body."
So this is what it was about… Another goose with the golden eggs, huh?
"I thought you were a duelist's promoter, but you're hooking young women into prostitution now? What a multifaceted man you are."
Ryo's speech carried this disrespectful tone of disdain, it didn't bother even if the man was committing an obvious crime. The people here are indebted, desperate, hurled in here by force or seeking pleasures that the outside world cannot offer, no one is free of guilt, thus they cannot release themselves.
If there's something he's learned the hard way is that no matter which immoral, condemned act you commit, under the ground, all voices are silenced and the truth is hidden by the darkness of the place. You have to fend for yourself or the wolves, baring their fangs, will devour you.
"You'd be amused with how much money girls her age can make if they work hard, even if she's mute there are lots of things she can do with this mouth," he slides a hand atop her head, teasing her again, she shakes it to shoo him away, but he keeps a firm hold on her arm, his fingers leaving a red mark there as he adjust his grip.
Mute? Is that what he said now?
Now he's even bringing people with disabilities, can this man go lower than this? They resume walking, he can't pretend he didn't hear, but nothing can be done about it, can it? Saruyama stops by the door of a room along the way, opening it without any ceremony and shoving her in there:
"Don't be mad at me, girlie, just business, now, wait here until someone comes to pick you up!" shutting her inside and locking the door, he sighs relieved, a sense of an accomplished duty. "You can go ahead and-"
"How much deep in debt is she?"
"It's unusual for you to be interested. Does she strike your fancy?"
"How much is it?" he repeats the question, not giving space for provocations.
"A hundred fifty million yen."
"And your brightest idea is to sell her body to pay for it while you'll probably keep ninety percent of the profits? I don't need to be a mathematician to know the numbers don't add up. Are you holding her captive for the rest of her life or something?" he leans against the wall, defying the suggestion of moving out until their conversation is fully done. "How did she even get into so much debt?"
"I'm sure she can make it, especially with her profile, this is her first night here, after all, you can see how anxious she is. But to cover this much, it's true she will need to stay long years in the business," he shrugs off. "This isn't bad for me or my friend, though."
Typical Saruyama, when he finds someone profitable, he won't let go even if he needs underhanded means to keep them close. It's the same for Ryo, wasn't he also similarly roped into this whole mess of the underground? With the twist that he walked into this place with his own two legs first, she on the other hand seems to be in a fray to leave the place, maybe she was brought by underhanded methods far worse than the sheer pressure he got to do it. He's no detective or policeman, though, it isn't his job to be helping anyone but himself.
"I'm sure she will get used to the job once she sees how much money she can get per night-"
Saruyama's voice becomes nothing but an ambience buzzing onto Ryo's ears, his mind splitting apart, his gaze lost on the brown stains of dubious source blemishing the walls.
"You can stop making this propaganda. That's all I need to hear," he states dauntlessly. "We're striking a deal."
"A deal of what?"
"What we just talked about. I'm buying her."
"What?! But…"
"Why not? It's about time I get some taste of what the underground has to offer besides the duels."
He straightens up his posture, his empty orbs facing his manager who gulps down all the words he thought of saying, reconsidering it.
"My friend already had some buyers in a list and-"
"Don't I get some privileges here? I thought this is how this whole network of contacts goes… You put in a nice word for me and I get what I want."
"You don't have that kind of money to be squandering it like this, Ryo Marufuji, we both know that. You don't even have a place to drop dead, where did this baseless confidence come from?"
His smirk eludes his face when Ryo stares at him dead serious. It hits him, this isn't a joke, his eyes almost gouge out, the youngster never ceases to surprise him.
"The underground duels make me enough to cover for a night. Plus, didn't you say I could make millions in a short time? I thought that was the plan."
"Y-yes! I did but-"
"If I'll make as much money as you promise, then I can afford an exclusive deal, can I not?"
A low giggle spurts in the air, turning into a guffaw, Saruyama beats his own chest to suppress it, this is just too funny.
"You're broke and you're saying you'll pay for a luxury escort? As your manager, I didn't expect you'd be that reckless!"
"You always tell me to go to those 'victory parties', right? I can't put up with all those people, but a night of reclusion in a hotel room with the right company sounds thrilling."
Thrill. Was this the purpose behind his request? Saruyama wonders. Ever since Ryo stepped into those underground duels, he has awakened this sadic side of his, enjoying as his opponents fell to the ground after the shocks, like it was a way to kill his boredom, yet he has this sensation there's more to it than just enjoyment.
"Fine," he shakes his head in an exciting type of disbelief. "You're young, but don't do anything stupid."
"You better sign me this deal or I'll be extremely disappointed."
The lad must've gone mad or maybe just very deprived from his urges. He's using his savings to pay a high sum for one night at the risk of getting indebted? Well, Ryo can't be that smart, he embraced the underground, and he's still a kid inside after all. Talk about counting with the eggs before they hatch.
"Of course. You can be the first customer."
"And the only one for tonight," he adds. "I told you I want an exclusive deal."
"What does that mean?" Saruyama's smile disappears again, his nape bristling with the sensation Ryo is covertly scheming something under that stoic gaze of his.
"I want to be the first client and also the only one today."
It was a whim. Because she helped him back in the lockers? No. Perhaps he wanted to test how far he could get away with those underground deals. How Saruyama would react and if he'd fall for those tattered excuses. How much influence he had in this.
"Even if I need to take it from someone else's hands, I'll seize what is mine. Victory, it is. I'll take as much as I can from this 'stage' you put me in," he opens his arms, as if to show their surroundings. "And make the best use of it."
"Oh, how very unusual of you. Of course, if you can pay, there's always a way. But can you?"
And here he is, this nasty side of him, doing his best to extract as much money from his underlings as possible. If he can't pay the debt, he will get to keep Ryo under his nails longer and the girl too.
"If I sink my teeth into every enemy that faces me and show my power, I'll climb my way to glory, isn't that what you told me?"
"Indeed, it is," his skeptical eyes remain transfixed on the duelist, probing him.
"I want to try it. A piece of this 'glory' you keep yammering about."
"Well, if that's what you wish, I'll call off the deal with the other parties and negotiate, but don't get too distracted tonight, we want you in good shape for tomorrow too."
He pats his shoulder a mocking deference, their accord is settled. Not saying another word, Ryo leaves, his manager watching his back, to think such a young man like him would already demand more from the underground when he barely crawled into its realm. He can see Ryo's claws sharpening at each step, how deeper into this path to become a demon will he go? And what will he look like at the end of it? He can't wait to witness it.
At the end of the dark corridors,
Hell Kaiser finally steps into the lights, the crowds on the tables surrounding the pit hoot and clap politely, mildly excited at his arrival.
During Ryo's fateful underground duel, his first, Saruyama said he'd created a "monster". Ryo didn't care at the time, but now, his blood that seethes inside him calls for it, for this adrenaline, for this pursuit to see how far he can reach, to test his limits constantly so he won't ever be stagnant again, to remind him where he came from and where he aims to be.
Under the wicked gazes of the watchers, he halts, looking to one side, then another, calling the assistants. They dress him with the shock collars. How many times has it been now? His hand trembles, not fear, but something else he can't quite pinpoint.
Clutching his fist tightly, he enters the pit. How many duels did he have in this last month? Or was it two months since he came here? He forgot how long, numbed by this world of darkness he willingly allowed himself to be enveloped in. A reminder that once he's into the pit, he's on his own. Just like in those old shadow duels, nothing can save you, you lose, you die, or in his case, you're bound to be forgotten by the crowds, ostracized into a world of nothingness.
If the pro world can be this cruel, then he will be even more ruthless than that. Smirking at his new opponent, a man looking like he's at least three times his age, he theorizes: did he fall from the pro leagues too? Or perhaps got as indebted as that girl? He doesn't care, really. His grin causes shivers on the older man.
Under the highlights, he draws. The duel is short, but not less enticing for the audience, they feel every shock just as much as him, flinching every time, rejoicing at his low groans of pain, their hearts pumping while watching his gaze always set onto his opponent, a destructive dueling style that completely wrecked the arena. And in the end, he was the only one standing again.
As he walks out, his silhouette is embedded by the dim lights, blending with the shadows of the side corridors. Saruyama stands to the side, following him as he walks past.
"Very good, if you keep this up, more 'sponsors' will support you," he rummages in his pocket, taking a neatly folded document from it. "Here, what you've asked."
"You're quick."
He opens it, his eyes skimming through the letters, the first thing catching his attention is the name "Rie Kinomoto" as well as what seemed to be her thumb print twice on the paper and a stamp validating it. He can portray the scene as his manager smudged the document using her thumb after smearing it with ink and she begrudgingly held her hand back, causing the first faded print on the paper, overlapped by a stronger one as she was forced to put it there a second time.
"I provided as you asked."
"How does this work?"
"Ah, that," he takes a keycard from his pocket. "You'll get a room on the top floor of the hotel, like any other VIP. Just go up and wait there, the personnel were already informed of your contract."
"The hotel is in it too?" his hand is almost reluctant to accept it, raising a brow wondering how many people are in the whole schematics.
"If they're ceding the space for the underground duels, why not for other business as well? The owner also gets his share in this."
"I see," he tucks the keycard into his pocket. "I'm surprised you accepted this deal though."
"If this is the pleasure you choose from all the ones the underground has to offer, then have your fun, but don't forget your true goal," he pats the Kaiser's shoulder a couple times, snickering as if incentivizing him and leaving him be.
Is it really this simple? Ruining someone's life…
With his thoughts drifting off for a moment, he enters the lift.
Meanwhile,
The pink-haired woman is thrusted into a communal dressing room by some guards that are double her size, her eyes bulging open as her vision is filled with a lot of women, mostly young adults, older than her for sure, using almost zero to no clothing at all, she'd never seen so many free boobs in her life. The mix of smells of perfume, makeup powder and freshly washed clothes makes her dizzy, the surroundings undulating in her sight.
She whirls back to the door, but a hand comes around the shoulder, one of the people in there:
"First day, newcomer? Come here."
Without waiting for a response, the blonde woman drags Rie to a plain grey, flat dressing table with all sorts of makeup thrown haphazardly into it, a box of tissues and pills that she couldn't even fathom what they were used for.
Sitting her down by pushing the shoulders, putting her in front of a rectangular frameless mirror, her breasts almost jumping out of her tight red bra as she smirks, bowing a whisper softly onto the young girl's ears:
"The only advice I have to give to you is: just relax and let things happen, dear. And if it's too much for you, take one of the pills on your table before going, it'll give you some courage. It's not as bad as you think."
She laughs seeing the color vanish from the face of the newbie, a dark-haired woman in a bathrobe stomps her way closer to them and slaps the head of the joker.
"Stop scaring her!"
The blonde woman swats her hand at the brunette, growling an inward complaint and leaving. To the side, where a bunch of other women put makeup, in dressing tables exactly like hers.
"Don't be too nervous, darling," she slides her hands onto Rie's shoulder in a comforting motion, grabbing it firmly in assurance. "Just choose whichever outfit you like, you'll get a coat when you go out. Take your time, but don't take too long or they'll come fetch you."
With a deep sigh, shaking her head out of pity for a young girl wound up on this side of the big pigsty, she leaves. Rie can only compute one of the sentences she said, afraid to repeat it in her mind.
Choose your clothes?
Glancing at the side opposite to the dressing tables, she sees at least four long metallic structures form where all sorts of dresses and outfits hang. Not normal clothes, but many lingerie sets, some of which made her scream inwardly, her eyes freezing in panic, turning her face away instantly, her cheeks boiling red.
Can that be called an attire? I only see strings.
Taking a side peek, she narrows her eyes, confirming her suspicions of the perverted variety of costumes and sleepwear, with a deep breath, holding her knees staunchly, she puckers her lips and denies with a sway of her head.
Nope. No way. I'm not getting into any of that.
How does she go from a waitress to a pleasure professional in a week's time frame? There has to be a solution, right? She taps her feet on the ground nervously, her whole body shaking. She won't just give up here. How can she best plan her escape?
On the highest floor of the hotel,
When the door of the elevator opens, he's onto that world of glamorous bright lights again, two bellboys, one on each side, smiling politely and greeting him with a short bow of head, his cunning eyes getting a hint that their job isn't merely greeting guests but watching the lift for any runaways or uninvited people too.
Considering how this whole floor of the hotel is for VIP only and the price is exorbitant, he can understand how the system works with them not accepting any guest that doesn't have any "member card" which seems to be a codename for having ties to the underground and making a contract to abide by their rules.
It felt like his filthy shoes would stain the fancy red carpets everywhere. The entrance hall has a fork-road, to the right and left, a silvery, rectangular and flat signboard on the wall showing which rooms were which direction, taking a peek at his keycard, he marches to the left.
There are scarce wooden doors lined on both sides, room numbers glued onto them. How big must the inside be? The walking path is spacious too, the walls are a bland beige, the light has a yellow, more calming shade unlike in the other area.
At the very end of the corridor, there's his room. What amused him was how eerily silent the whole way here was. Seems the night hasn't started for anyone, yet his night has already ended. He flashes the card in front of a machine attached to the door, above the doorknob, a discreet click along with a green blinking light on a dark panel atop the machine, allowing him to open it.
He's shocked by the place as the door closes behind him, it's all dark. The lights turn on when he inserts the keycard on the card-reader slot, leaving it stuck there, from inside the room.
Past the small hallway where a small, wooden shoe holder stands to the left, it's a large space; first, all the way across from the entrance he sees the elegant dark glass forming the whole wall, impermeable opaque-beige curtains clogging the sight. The floor is covered fully with carpets in pastel tones.
Near the curtains, following the wall orientation, there's a whole king sized bed whose sheets were neatly folded to form a ribbon, a chest of drawers on each side of the bed with glassy water bottles.
In the middle of the room, there's a large three-seater padded couch, a dark-red cloth with glimmering golden flower patterns, squared red and golden cushions lined above the soft seats as extras, for comfort; there's also a padded chair in the same style divided from the couch by a center table made of glass where a bottle of champagne is sunk into ice cubes filling a bucket awaits for him, and some colored magazine-alike papers are spread overlapping each other. Pamphlets with the rules of the hotel, he assumes.
A couple meters in front of it, there's a low, white TV rack with two large storage doors, it's lined along the wall; a huge screen occupying its surface almost fully, and a TV remote on the border. They organized the furniture in a way that both from the couch and bed the screen could be seen perfectly.
To the right, on the other end of the room, half of the wall is covered in wallpaper while the other half is made of glass. t the inner, rightmost corner of the room, there's a wooden door with a golden knob; and a few steps beside the door, to the left, a cupboard whose openings were made of glass, showing everything stored in there.
Following to the left, there's a glass door sided by full glass plates from which he can see the insides of the medium-sized room, consisting of small white tiles with a drain, like in a bathroom, a big jacuzzi at the middle and two small white one-seater benches nearby it; railings are pierced on the fully white walls from which white towels hang folded in half; it's possible to see the landscape outside of the hotel from that part through the dark glass to the left of the jacuzzi's position, which is probably what they intended with that room in the first place.
Turning to the side, his hands reached out to the curtains, sliding it aside, the sight outside was stunning. He can see the other buildings on the horizon, but they're not nearly as tall as this floor stands, the sky is populated by glistening stars, a dignified sight for those who throne above others. Much better than his cramped rented apartment for sure, and much larger too.
He's startled at a ring coming from the entrance, immediately shutting the curtains and answering to it.
At his doorstep, there's a man in a dark suit, looking like a bodyguard with the whole gear on, sunglasses included, he drags the pink-haired woman by the arm, she's wearing a composed brown coat that falls past the middle of her legs, a buckled belt strapped on it, tied around her waist to fasten the cloth around her; her legs covered by long, velvety black boots with gaudy high heels, the cane so long that it ended somewhere under the coat's line.
The deep frown on her brows is already forming permanent wrinkles on her face. The guard prods his head in her direction, lightly pushing her back into the room and closing the door silently.
Is that it? So easy. They forced her into this vile place with a snap of a finger and she could do nothing about it. Impressive.
Ryo stares blankly at her for a second before turning around, going to the other end of the room, arms folded in a cool posture as if no explanation was needed, tugging the curtains slightly to gaze at the scenery outside again, he could see his face reflected on first plan and Rie's reflex on the glass, at the background, her unblinking eyes flashing right and left as if she couldn't put herself to focus on his figure.
It's best if he clarifies what's happening and what his true intentions in bringing her here were, she looks like she'll faint from anxiousness at any moment.
"Why don't you sit do-"
Before he finished that sentence he could only gape and unfold his arms, watching the reflection show him as she spun around and opened the door, dashing out of the room. Swirling back astounded, his eyes roaming on the hotel empty room to ascertain he saw it right.
Did she just… Run?
He repeats to himself, taking a moment to recollect before threading out of the room, letting out a deep huff. He's off to an awfully awesome start.
Clenching his fists and stomps his way out of the room, just to catch wind of the escapee at the end of the corridor. She does run fast, he will give her that.
He could swear her eyes doubled in size when she realized he was tagging after her, her speed increasing, the wall to the left blocking his sight as she ran outside the corridor fully.
Some gasps and murmurs soar abound, a voice shouting in a contained tune, to not bother the other guests. "What are you doing here?!"
"Don't let her into the elevator!"
Threading faster, Ryo finally meets her again, the guards grab her by the hem of her coat as she struggles against it by stepping away from them, stretching the cloth to the point it could be thorn, demanding to be freed with an unrecognizable blabbering hailing from her unbridled lips.
In a last desperate attempt, she unfastens the belt tied to her waist, slipping her arm free from one sleeve, then unsticking the other arm and finally undressing right there, as the guards can but stand gawking at the flapping cloth left on their hands.
Ryo brows raise subtly. Her garments underneath are only a black lace bra and a jet-black corset with flashy pink stripes making a crossed pattern it in the middle, covering her ribcage and belly, flattering her curves and pushing her chest up, not that she needed it, he notes; aside that she's only having plain black panties made with a lace layer, he swears if he looks long enough he will see... Forget it. She gets an A for effort? Shaking off his head, he threads onwards.
Her feet skid midway after feeling his presence near, the Hell Kaiser stands like a fortress closing the path ahead, a glum look cast at her. His sharp, apathetic eyes that gave her all the signals that this man is no good news.
Looking back and forth, she gulps, a drop of sweat rolling down her face, escaping wasn't as easy as she devised in her mind.
"Get he-"
The other guard stops his comrade from speaking, elbowing him. "Shh, mind the guests!"
"It's fine. We're just taking a stroll around the hotel."
Ryo blurts out with so much confidence the guards have to hold back a snicker, biting their lips. A stroll?
"I think we've had enough fresh air. How about we go back to the room?"
He offers a hand for her to take, she could sense he was holding back a few words, but he's been giving these mixed signs the whole night, she can't tell if he's trying to be cordial or simply indifferent at the whole predicament here, her orbs squinting in distrust, he bought her, is he really thinking she will happily follow him back to the room? As the guards attention is stirred again, they mumble something as if preparing to take action.
"Okay, decision time is over," Ryo declares gravely, throwing the subtlety out of the window and hauling her by the wrist. "We're going back now."
She denies and resists, bending all her weight to her heels that stomp into the carpet, but it's fruitless, her whole body pulled forwards, making her rush a few steps, stumbling around. They can hear the guards scoffing meekly:
"Did she run away from him?"
"I think so. Isn't he that new duelist from the other day?"
"This is embarrassing. He's paying for the service and the escort runs off. Tsk, tsk, kids don't really know what to do."
Exhaling deeply, to disperse those comments from his mind, he drags the girl back into the hotel room, closing the door behind her shut without letting go of her wrist, tugging it once, to shake her, inciting her to glare at him rebelliously, curving her lips down.
Now what? She escaped just to be kicked back into the abyss, and he doesn't look all too happy about her attitude. This ungrateful man who couldn't even remember her or say thank you.
All this mess could've been avoided had he just explained himself earlier. He finally pronounces himself, a stolid tone:
"I didn't pay to have fun with you, I'm bailing you out tonight."
Bailing her out? She winces at him, her eyes wandering to the sides, her mind mulling over those words. Her gaze gravitates towards his ravishing, enigmatic green orbs.
What in the world is he talking about?