Charlie had only just finished the formal pleasantries and taken his seat when a girl approached with stiff, mechanical movements to offer him a glass of vintage wine.
"Mr. Cervantes, these women are...?" Charlie asked, fighting to keep his voice level despite the suffocating atmosphere.
Terry leaned back, a broad smile plastered on his face—a smile that never quite reached his eyes. "It might sound far-fetched to a young man like yourself, Avalon, but these are all my lovers—the sort of arrangement men refer to as a 'harem'..."
He stroked his beard, continuing in a tone that suggested he fancied himself a true romantic.
"To put it simply, I wooed them with great passion, and they granted me the honor of returning my feelings with absolute sincerity."
"However, with so many beauties responding to my love, I feared the Goddess of Beauty herself might scold me if I kept such happiness all to myself. It may be a bit forward of me, but in the spirit of sharing this wealth, I asked them to assist in serving drinks to my most distinguished guests."
"..."
Charlie remained silent. The explanation was nothing more than cheap camouflage; only a fool would believe it after seeing the hollow void in the women's eyes.
He already understood the truth beneath the opulence.
Every woman here was a victim of a meticulously crafted web of manipulation and debt traps. In plain terms, Terry had stripped them of their freedom through the most base and deceitful means.
Each of them, draped in daring, erotic gowns, stood as rigid as porcelain dolls. Against their own will, they were trapped here for various nonsensical reasons. Just like Anna, they had been smuggled through shadow networks, some from within Orario and others from far beyond its borders.
The various colored chokers adorning their slender necks were not mere jewelry; they were brands of ownership, cold reminders that they were the personal property of Terry Cervantes.
This room was a microcosm of Orario's underbelly, a place beyond the reach of the Guild's laws. Here, such depravity was rebranded as high-class entertainment. As long as no one dared to challenge Terry's arrogant authority, these elite guests would continue to sip the "sweet nectar" of the casino owner's collection without a shred of guilt.
"Now that you mention it, Mr. Terry... on my way here, I heard a rumor that you recently acquired a beauty with the charm of a Siren."
At Charlie's prompt, the men around the table exchanged knowing, lecherous grins.
"Ohhh, I heard that too! Word is she's a woman from a very distant land!"
"How about letting us have a look? Don't keep a gem like that hidden behind the curtain for too long!"
The elite patrons cheered, eager for a new spectacle. Basking in the attention, Terry let out a wide, jagged smirk.
"Gah ha ha...! As you wish! I have indeed just welcomed a new lover into my harem. Let us have this long-awaited introduction!"
Terry kept repeating the word "harem" yet it was plain to see that not a trace of affection existed—neither from him nor the girls.
The lavish necklaces were nothing but shackles.
The glamorous clothes only tightened the bonds between them.
These women were not a harem.
They weren't even being treated as collectibles.
To this vile casino owner, they were commodities for profit, tools to sate an appetite.
Whether he was satisfied by the guests' interest or had intended to flaunt his latest "acquisition" from the start, Terry gave a small, authoritative wave to a young valet.
The valet bowed with rigid deference and disappeared through a wooden door at the back of the VIP lounge. A moment later, he returned, leading a human girl dressed in a gown of pure, snowy white.
"A pleasure... to meet you. My name is Anna."
The girl lifted the hem of her skirt in a polite curtsy—a grace clearly taught with love in her home. However, she couldn't entirely mask the tremor of terror bleeding into her voice.
Without a doubt, this was the daughter of the Claes couple whom Charlie had promised to save.
Karen's words hadn't been the mere exaggeration of a doting mother. Anna possessed an allure that made even the wealthy men of refined taste in the room nod in approval.
Anna had blue eyes that radiated honesty, skin as white as porcelain, and a slender, elegant jawline. Standing on the precipice between girlhood and womanhood, her pure beauty could rival the grace of high-born Elves or the radiance of Goddesses.
Yet, the sight was defiled by a sickening reality: a choker, identical to those worn by the other girls, was fastened around her neck, marking her status as property. The sunset-gold hair that was her mother's pride was pinned back with a gaudy ornament, shivering slightly with her uneven breaths.
The elites around the table let out long, appreciative exhales, their leering eyes roaming over Anna's bare shoulders without shame.
"This one is truly Grade-A." One muttered.
"Incredible. It's as if a Goddess descended to earth. Mr. Cervantes, you truly hit the jackpot!"
"Actually, I found her by chance while traveling in a foreign land." Terry bragged with a pseudo-religious air. "It must have been divine providence. Her beauty and charm enchanted even a seasoned man like myself."
As Terry spun his web of lies, Charlie stared directly at Anna.
Perhaps sensing something different in his gaze—something sharp and devoid of lust amidst a hungry crowd—Anna raised her head in surprise.
Their eyes met.
Terry immediately noticed where Anna's attention had drifted.
"Mr. Avalon, is there something wrong with her face?" he asked, his tone turning inquisitive.
"No, it's just that I know a woman who looks very much like her." Charlie replied, his gaze never wavering from Anna. "According to my acquaintance's story, there was a man who was lured into gambling by a group of thugs until he got his hands dirty. Once everything he owned was drained dry, his beloved daughter was taken from him by force."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Both Anna and Terry were visibly jolted, hearing the story from their own polarized perspectives. Charlie continued, indifferent to the shifting atmosphere.
"The girl's father was indeed a fool for falling into the trap... However, if you look closer, it seems the incident didn't happen naturally, but rather at the prodding of a specific individual."
Charlie took a small sip of his drink, his voice now sounding deathly cold.
"That person intentionally set those thugs on the father to ensnare him, all for the sake of capturing that beautiful daughter. And once it was all over, he quietly claimed the girl as his own. A rather tragic tale for those who know the truth of the matter."
"..."
Instantly, Terry's mask of congeniality shattered. He discarded the facade of the polite casino owner and glared at Charlie. His gaze was now brutal and merciless—the look of a mafia kingpin who had trampled over law and humanity for years. Only one who had walked a long path of tyranny could wear an expression so monstrous.
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