Chapter 4 – The Chains of the Past

Chapter 4 – The Chains of the Past

The day began in the heavy silence of the brothel, a thick silence, as if everything was breathing in unison. The women were already preparing, applying makeup, slipping into tight corsets and glittering dresses that barely concealed the suffering of their existence.

Vaën got up, as usual, before dawn, to tend to the brothel's tasks. The pale light of the dawn was just a specter, a gray mist slowly spreading over the city. He didn't need to look at the clock to know that he was one of the first to emerge from the world of shattered dreams.

He rose from his worn straw mattress and, without a sound, began cleaning up the remnants of the night before, tidying up the water basins, wiping down the tables. His movements were mechanical, one after the other, but today, something in the air told him it would be different.

A presence.

A gaze. Not a gaze of desire, like the ones he received from the clients. Not the matron's gaze, nor even the girls' gazes, but one that sought something.

He lifted his eyes toward the entrance.

A man stood there, in the shadows, near the door. Dressed in a dark coat, he seemed out of place. He wasn't looking at the women or the brothel's scene. His eyes were scanning the place, searching for something, perhaps a soul, a false promise, or maybe prey. He wasn't paying. He wasn't calling. He was waiting.

Vaën felt the tension rise within him, but he didn't move. He knew this type of man. The one who didn't come to consume, but to make an offer or, more likely, a request. He didn't seem like just another customer.

Later in the day, after the first wave of clients had left, Lucia approached Vaën, her gaze evasive, but her hands trembling with nervousness.

She wore a simple dress, less elaborate than the ones worn by the more experienced girls, but her eyes shone with a sad light. Like a lost soul clinging to a semblance of redemption. Vaën looked at her, curious.

— Vaën, Lucia began, in a low voice, be careful of the man near the door. He's strange. He's already taken another girl here. And... she disappeared afterward.

Vaën watched the man from a distance, his eyes following his silhouette in the shadows. He didn't take his eyes off him, as though he had noticed something in him, but he said nothing. Lucia was right. This type of individual wasn't here by accident.

— You need to be careful of him, Lucia said, eyes lowered. He seems to know too much, and he doesn't look at us like the others.

Vaën nodded slowly. Not a word. Just a gesture of understanding. He already knew.

After the man left the brothel, Vaën found himself cleaning once again, aimlessly, letting time stretch around him. He knew this encounter wasn't trivial. Things were starting to get complicated.

That night, in the dark basement where he found refuge, far from the eyes and whispers, Vaën found himself looking at the girls' profiles, as he always did. But that night, something caught his attention.

Lucia

Main Class: Beginner Prostitute Lv 2

Secondary Class: Fugitive Slave Lv 1

Age: 18

Stats:

Strength: 3

Intelligence: 4

Charisma: 6

Endurance: 4

Speed: 5

Skills:

Innocent Charm (active)

Docile Submission (passive)

Adaptability (active)

Fight for Freedom (passive)

The truth about Lucia's status struck Vaën like a shockwave. He hadn't expected this kind of transformation. He had already noticed signs. She had seemed more furtive lately, more tense, as though she had a secret purpose, a flight to plan. But he hadn't understood. He hadn't seen yet.

Lucia's secondary class wasn't a coincidence. He could sense the signs of this new class awakening: her furtive reactions, her increasingly unpredictable behavior, as though she were living under constant threat. And yet, Vaën had never imagined she could become a fugitive slave. It was a rare class, linked to those who escaped slavery, those marked by a life of suffering, but who were never truly free.

He wondered how long she had spent in that hell before ending up here, at the brothel. A fugitive slave was a broken person, but also someone with the strength to escape. A living contradiction.

It wasn't a surprise that Lucia had this type of class. After all, she seemed to carry an invisible burden, as though her past relentlessly pursued her. There was something more to her, something she didn't let show, but that he perceived in her gestures, in her gaze.

She had fled a life she didn't want, but was she truly free? Or was she trapped in another form of invisible chains? Vaën knew that it would take more than just an act to get out of this. He knew it for himself.

Lucia's Past: The Fugitive Slave

Lucia hadn't been born here, in this brothel. She had been captured, enslaved in another life. A life she preferred to forget, but whose scars still marked her skin, even if they were invisible to those who didn't look for them. She had escaped her masters by running away, fleeing through the dark streets until the brothel took her in, like a refuge, although it was just another form of cage.

Fugitive slaves were rare, but not impossible. Those who escaped control were never truly free. They were hunted, chased, like animals. And Lucia was one of them. She carried fear within her, but also the will to escape at all costs, even if, at times, she wondered if her flight hadn't led her into another form of captivity.

Vaën understood this. He felt that Lucia was much more than she appeared. The quest for freedom was one thing, but true freedom was not a given. It was an illusion, something fleeting, like a shooting star in a dark sky.

That evening, in the basement, Vaën found himself watching Nira once again. She said nothing, but he knew she too felt that heavy presence, that strange alliance forming in the shadows. Something was about to happen. But for now, all he could do was watch, wait.

Nira turned to him, and their gazes met. A silent agreement.

— We'll need to be ready, she said softly. Tonight, perhaps everything will change.

Vaën nodded. He too felt that truth. He was no longer alone, and he wasn't the only one wanting to escape.