Chapter 16: Trafficking

The Fox knew full well the state of lawlessness in his domain. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have cared to intervene in the affairs of mere commoners. But this time was different—this time, the visitor was a distinguished client. Everyone operating along this street understood a simple truth: it was not the wrath of the rich or even the government one should fear, but the displeasure of the Sura in their pockets. Should they cease to seek their pleasures here, that would be the true calamity.

"Oh! If it isn't Mr. Rayne! Welcome, welcome!"

Clapping his hands, the Fox stepped forward with a practiced grin.

The middle-aged man pinched the behind of the woman clinging to him. Having played the part of a virtuous gentleman all day, he now relished the chance to fully shed the mask. The woman let out a moan, drawing a chuckle and a nod from the man as he turned to the Fox.

"Have you prepared what I asked for?"

Bowing with servility, the Fox replied, "But of course, Mr. Rayne. How could we possibly fail to honor a deal with you? Fresh and tender, just as you requested—taken from the next town only a few days ago. So young, her hair hasn't even started to grow down there yet~"

A twisted hunger flickered across the man's face. Though he snorted through his nose and kept his expression composed, his hands betrayed him—slipping into the garments of the two women at his side, groping their breasts with obscene force to suppress the thrill rising in him.

As the women's cries echoed in delight, a smile gradually returned to the man's face. He gave the Fox a slight nod to proceed.

"Sir."

At some point, a beggar child had appeared before him—a child swathed in a threadbare blanket, an infant cradled in his arms.

The boy's voice was as cold as the snow falling outside, utterly out of place amidst the carnal warmth that filled the den. A flicker of doubt passed over Rayne's features, while the Fox stared at the child in astonishment.

"Allow me to guide you."

The beggar lowered his head respectfully. His posture conveyed humility and deference, but more than that, it concealed his eyes.

The eyes are windows to one's soul—no matter how skilled in deception, they cannot fully hide intent. Years of hardship had frozen the boy's heart; he no longer remembered the last time he smiled. Nor did he know how to soften his gaze, how to mimic subservience through false charm. Better, then, that no one see his eyes at all.

Rayne glanced at the child, then back at the Fox. "Hey, who's this brat?"

The Fox shot the boy a withering glare. Were it not for Rayne's presence, he would have ordered his men to drag the child out into the snow and toss his corpse into the trash. But now, he could only keep up appearances, palms together, smiling as he replied, "Ah! This kid? He's just—"

"The one who procured the merchandise for you, sir."

The boy interjected coolly, his voice as steady as stone. The Fox's face twitched with unease, while Rayne's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Boss Fox said that if I brought back something to your taste, I'd be paid thirty Sura. Isn't that right, Boss?"

The Fox was rendered speechless. He had said something along those lines—but not that much. Still, with a wealthy patron watching, he couldn't exactly argue over price with a child. Gritting his teeth, he nodded.

Rayne didn't care for such matters. Compared to the sly Fox, most men preferred the words of a child. With a lazy grin, he slipped his hands from the women's clothes, only to plunge them right back in, savoring the warmth.

"Lead the way."

The boy gave a polite bow and turned on his heel. Rayne followed, his steps impatient yet controlled, trailed by bodyguards. The Fox lingered behind, his face darkening with suspicion as he crept after them.

Their footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor. The boy took the lead, his pace brisk. Rayne, at first holding the women close, soon released them to quicken his stride. The bodyguards followed, and lastly came the ever-watchful Fox, muttering under his breath, "Impossible… this is impossible…"

But the further they walked—the fewer moans and cries they heard from behind closed doors—the more the Fox's expression relaxed. Finally, a cold smirk formed on his lips.

The boy stopped at a door. From within his tattered cloak, he drew a key, holding it out silently. A bodyguard took it, glanced at Rayne, and upon receiving a nod, inserted it into the lock.

With a click, the door swung open.

"You bastard! You dare come back?! I'll beat you to death!"

A young girl's shrill voice pierced the air. The bodyguard caught the chair she hurled at him with ease, wrenched it from her hands, and shoved her deeper into the room.

"This can't be…"

Shock rippled across the Fox's face.

Rayne paid no mind. His eyes sparkled as he snatched a lamp from the boy and stepped inside. There stood a ten-year-old girl with chestnut hair, her small hands gripping another chair, glaring fiercely at the intruders. She wore a maid's uniform that fit all too well, her tear-stained face betraying a painful innocence.

"Oh, splendid! Truly splendid! This is by far the finest prize I've ever received!"

The Fox twitched but could only mumble in agreement. Turning, he shot the boy a venomous look full of contempt and confusion.

But the boy approached him calmly, extending a hand.

"Boss. The job is done. Thirty Sura."

The Fox twitched again, eyes darting toward Rayne. Then, with a forced smile, he replied, "Yes, yes, thirty Sura, I remember. Just a moment—we'll step outside, let Mr. Rayne enjoy his time, and settle things afterward."

The boy didn't move. His hand remained outstretched, his voice as cold as ever.

"Thirty Sura. Now."

The Fox wanted nothing more than to strangle him. Were it not for Rayne's presence, the boy would already be dead ten times over. But Rayne was here.

"Hey now, Boss," Rayne laughed, "that little brat brought me such a fine catch, and you're still hesitating over a few coins? Kid, don't bother with him. Come here. I'll pay you myself. Catch—fifty Sura!"

As if expecting it all along, the boy stepped forward, took five crisp notes from a bodyguard's hand, and stashed them inside his coat. From the back, the girl suddenly realized the truth.

"You… you sold me?! For a measly fifty Sura?!"

The boy said nothing. The moment he took the money, her fate no longer concerned him. He turned, clutching the infant, and walked away.

Behind him, the girl burst into tears, pounding her fists as she screamed, "Don't you dare walk away! You bastard! I thought you might have a heart, seeing you carry that baby—but you're just a monster! I won't forgive you! Never! I'll make you pay!"

"Don't touch me! You filthy man! No—don't—!"

"Shut the hell up!" barked a bodyguard, shoving her roughly. She stumbled and fell, trembling as the reality of her surroundings began to sink in. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Rayne loosened his collar and approached her. He studied her face again, still beaming with pleasure. Then he waved his hand—ordering the Fox and guards to prepare a bed and furniture. He planned to savor every moment of this twisted evening.

"Come now, my little maid…"

Rayne sat on a chair, removing his shirt and tossing it at the girl's feet. A grotesque smile twisted his lips.

"Wash it for me. Use your dainty pink fingers. Scrub every inch. And where your fingers fail, use your soft little toes to press and grind it clean. Do it well, and your master will reward you—with a plump, delicious sausage. But if not… your master has other ways to teach you. Now, say it—call me Master. Say it—say it!"

The girl stared at the soiled shirt before her, then lifted her eyes to the man's leering face. Her tears fell freely.