“Educate her.”
The brothel owner spoke the moment she entered the room.
The woman assisting her answered immediately.“The girl who came in today?”
“Who else?”
Her refined manner, the one she wore for customers, peeled away. Her voice hardened.
“Anyone who doesn’t come here by choice needs educating.”
“Yes.”
“Do it now.”
“Now?”
“Why are you still asking questions?”
“Usually, we check their background first. Persuade them with words—”
“She has nowhere to go.”
The retort cut clean.
She picked up a cigarette. The hand holding it trembled. Her throat burned. She set the cigarette aside and downed a shot of liquor.
Originally, she had sent the coachman to learn more about the girl. Family. Companions. Anyone who might come searching.
But it was unnecessary.
When the girl had removed her coat, turning her back, the inner pockets told her everything. Too many pockets. Too carefully sewn. A person cornered for a long time.
She knew that habit. She had lived it once.
Misfortune had a smell. She recognized it.
“Don’t leave scars. She cost five thousand.”
“Yes. Should I add anesthetic and aphrodisiac?”
“You’ll have to, if you don’t want marks. Control the dosage. Don’t cripple her.”
Then, as if forcing herself to ask:
“What about him?”
The staff member at the door answered without hesitation.“He left.”
“You confirmed the carriage?”
“Yes. It headed toward the Ritz Hotel.”
She nodded and poured another glass of liquor.
Something felt wrong.
It wasn't that she wanted to have sex, or was it that she wanted to save the woman out of chivalry?
That didn't seem right either.
Given that he was an unidentified man, it was very unsettling, but if he had intended to do something, he would have already done it. That's why she was more anxious than usual.
She wondered what the girl was doing now, after hearing the word brothel.
“Start the education before she does anything reckless. Do it in the room. Send her to Lot by carriage before dawn.”
“Yes.”
“Keep her hidden. Bring her out only when I call. If anyone cripples her, they will be crippled in return. Understood?”
“Understood.”
She drank again.
The alcohol settled her pulse. As the alcohol began to take effect, her heart, which had been churning with anxiety, gradually calmed.
Nothing had happened yet. Yes. It's nothing. The girl was still inside.The night was passing without incident, and the woman was not taken.
It seemed her old age was making her suspicious.
At the same time, along the Daub River, dozens of wolves suppressed presences gathered around the mansion.
In the rear garden of the brothel, in darkness thick with leaves and grass, a shadow moved without sound.
The unidentified VIP, reported to have left, was strolling through the brothel's rear garden.
Hands in pockets and hips relaxed. Shoulders loose. No hurry. The posture that his dear mother would shudder at.
Oscar erased the image of his mother from his mind, as if crushing a cigarette beneath his heel.
He walked between the garden trees like someone enjoying a night walk.
Grass muted his steps. Wind covered his approach. Like a predator approaching its prey.
Oscar moved towards the woman's room. The woman's room was visible directly ahead. Curtains drawn. A single line of light between them. Occasional movement inside.
He stopped at a tree and leaned against it.
Waiting.
Simon stepped closer and spoke quietly.
“King Felpe has already received the report.”
At Simon's report, delivered one step closer, Oscar clicked his tongue lightly.
He had tried to intercept the safe deposit report before it reached the King.Too late.
Felpe.
A city-state that, in terms of land area or population, smaller than most duchies.
Yet despite Norfolk’s chaotic modern history, Felpe retained its status as a kingdom. There were reasons for it, but only one decisive factor.
The Royal Felpe Bank.
Founded four centuries ago, it was the first of its kind on the Norfolk continent. It was known for never leaking client information. Whoever opened a vault, their identity remained sealed secret, and there was no record of it ever being leaked. Not even foreign kings had succeeded in extracting records.
When money was deposited, its source was not questioned. Ownership information was confidential.
It was natural that dirty money flowed in. Recently, rumors claimed the hidden assets of the fallen Polia royal family had been stored there.
Felpe became a massive vault for the powers of Norfolk. Those powers upheld Felpe’s banking laws as sacred, because their secret wealth depended on them to protect their own money.
The Norfolk Royal Union was proof of this shift.A century ago, the royal families of various countries, who used to cling to each other like a pack of dogs fighting over territory, now ridiculously called themselves a union and engaged in friendly gatherings. It was a clear sign that the era where status and land guaranteed power was drawing to a close.
But money invited murder. Before banking laws, there were countless cases of children killing their parents to steal safe keys. Families disappeared overnight.
So the powerful shaped Felpe’s laws to protect both wealth and life.
In essence, the Felpe banking law imposed no restrictions on deposits but immense restrictions on withdrawals.
A vault could only be opened by its original owner or a legitimate heir. Possessing the key alone was not enough. It could not be opened by someone who was not the rightful owner.
However, if the owner died without formal inheritance, the key holder gained the right to open the vault twenty years after its creation.
Vault 5555 fell into that category.
To protect the key holder, the bank issued a Certificate of Acquisition to the person who brought the key. This certificate signified ownership of the safe if the original owner did not appear, and its issuance was limited to once per specified period.
The acquisition holder underwent a rigorous screening process and was recognized as the temporary owner of the safe during the verification. Although they could not open the safe immediately, they were protected by Felpe's banking laws. If the acquisition holder disappeared for any reason during this period, the safe would be sealed for the next twenty years under the judgment that it was involved in a crime, even if the key was present.
The woman had been issued a Certificate of Acquisition for the key.
This was reported to the King of Felpe, who treated the banking laws as sacred.
Which meant the woman had become a living key.
Simon stood beside Oscar, holding his breath.
Oscar, lost in silence, stared intently at one spot.
The woman was unlucky.She was exceptionally unlucky to have become Oscar's target. One might think she was lucky to have received the Certificate of Acquisition before he could do anything, but it would have been more beneficial to simply hand over the key for a large sum rather than become a target.
Just then, Oscar, who had been leaning diagonally against a tree trunk, pushed himself away. Simon reflexively looked up at the mansion. An agent, plastered against the window directly above the room the woman occupied, pointed downwards with a finger.
Oscar slid through the darkness like a moving moon shadow. The wolves, stealthily hidden throughout the mansion, watched Oscar with bated breath. The path was cleared in advance so that their master's footsteps would not stumble on stones.
Oscar ascended the stairs with a leisurely gait, turned at the landing, and when he reached the corridor. The men guarding the woman's room were being removed by the wolves. Two burly men were being dragged away, but no sound was heard.
Oscar passed the dragged men and arrived in front of the room.
Oscar looked down at the doorknob for a moment, then raised his eyes to gaze at the door.
From beyond the thin wooden door, faint moans, a strange scent, and a vile laugh full of excitement seeped out.
—