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墨書 Inktalez
Carter followed the secretary's lead through the winding corridors of the hotel.
With each door they passed, he could hear the raucous revelry inside—men laughing boisterously, women giggling, the clinking of glasses, and whispers that had no place in a normal social setting.
The air here was starkly different from the world he knew, carrying a damp sense of decay, like a rotten fruit that looked splendid on the outside but was teeming with maggots within.
They finally stopped in front of a golden private room.
The secretary said nothing more, simply pushed open the door and gestured for Carter to enter.
As Carter stepped inside, he was completely taken aback.
The room was filled with smoke, the atmosphere filthy. Rain sat in the center on a lavish sofa, flanked by several scantily clad strippers, a cigar dangling from his mouth as he threw his head back in laughter.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled up, lacking any of the elite elegance and restraint he had displayed during his campaign. Instead, he resembled a debauched upper-class rogue lost in a game of wealth and power.
Beside him was a group of gang members frantically consuming some substances.
Their eyes were glazed over, heads bobbing as they mumbled incoherent words. They held glass tubes, powder, and rolled-up bills as if participating in some indulgent ritual celebrating their downfall.
Carter felt frozen in place.
His mind buzzed with confusion, unable to reconcile this scene with the "unyielding people's warrior" and "leader who does not bow to fear" he had known in the past.
Was this Rain? The politician who led the people against corruption?
The same Rain who had just raised his fist before the crowd, proclaiming his intention to save the world?
“Carter! Come on in!”
Rain finally noticed him, grinning widely as smoke escaped his lips. His gaze was clouded with alcohol and drugs but still retained some semblance of coherence.
“Don’t just stand there! Come on, sit down! Don’t make that face; this is our celebration—look at our approval ratings; they’re through the roof!”
He laughed heartily, wrapping an arm around one of the women beside him. She leaned against his chest, her fingers gently tracing his neck as she cooed, “Mr. Ryan, is this your friend?”
Rain shrugged and smiled at Carter, a playful glint in his eyes. "He's my savior; we should treat him well, shouldn't we?"
Carter stood frozen, his knuckles involuntarily tightening. One question echoed in his mind—
Is this really the Rain he believed in?
The secretary beside him spoke in a low voice, her tone so calm it sent chills down his spine. "Keep an eye on Rain; he's had quite a bit of fun today."
Rain bit down on his cigar, a drunken smile plastered across his face, his gaze filled with mischief and abandon. He flicked the ash from his cigar and waved toward a group of scantily clad women nearby.
"Hey! Go serve my savior!"
He grinned widely, his tone laced with indulgence. "What are you sitting there for? Don’t you want to make some money?"
The women giggled, their laughter soft and tinged with a hint of playful flirtation. They exchanged glances before rising to their feet, swaying their bodies as they approached Carter.
"Come on, handsome, don’t be shy."
"Even heroes need to relax tonight, right?"
Their voices were gentle, fingertips brushing lightly against Carter's arm, the heavy scent of perfume enveloping him.
Carter furrowed his brow and instinctively took a step back.
"I don't need that," he replied coldly, deliberately slowing his speech to issue a warning. "Stay away from me."
However, the women showed no signs of retreating; instead, they pressed closer, one leaning against his shoulder while another playfully tugged at his collar with a teasing smile.
"Don't be so tense, handsome; just enjoy it..."
Carter's anger had already been simmering, but now it ignited into a blaze.
"Get lost!"
He suddenly pushed one of them aside. The action wasn't overly rough, but it was forceful enough that the woman stumbled back, gasping as she fell onto the sofa. The others widened their eyes slightly, seemingly taken aback by his intense reaction.
The air froze for a moment.
Several gang members turned their gazes toward him. Some frowned, showing signs of displeasure, but Rain burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Good! I like you just like this!"
He pinched the cigar between his fingers, patting his thigh and laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. Then he pointed at Carter, his tone excited as he said, "Work well when it's time to work! Hahaha! This is my security! Loyal, upright, and not easily tempted!"
After saying that, he raised his glass to the people present and took a big gulp, as if he hadn't a care in the world about what had just happened.
The women exchanged glances, some pouting in displeasure. However, seeing that Rain wasn't angry and had no intention of continuing to bother Carter, they simply smiled and returned to their places, continuing to flatter the gang leaders.
Carter stood in place, the anger inside him still simmering, but his gaze gradually turned cold.
He didn't know what kind of situation he was in right now, but he understood that this place, this gathering, these people... everything felt wrong.
Carter stood in a corner of the private room, his hands instinctively clenched into fists, knuckles turning white as he forced himself to remain silent.
The scene before him was hard to believe.
A few gang leaders sat across from Rain, impeccably dressed in suits with exaggerated gold rings on their fingers, cigars dangling from their mouths and malicious smiles on their faces.
They weren't discussing policies or reforms; they were talking about dirty business—the real black market.
"Recently there have been some issues with the goods on this line, old friend. You know how it is; these things are hard to manage. The people at the docks are being watched too closely... We need a more flexible 'way through.'"
"I can understand that; after all, there have been more crackdowns lately. But you know that as long as the right people are in place, there's always a way to solve it," Rain replied lazily, his eyes half-closed and his tone as relaxed as if discussing the weather.
"Our people need more job opportunities, especially with new entertainment venues. The market is getting bigger by the day," another gang leader licked his lips and smiled meaningfully. "After all, men need a place to unwind, right?"
"That's right, that's right, there's still a lot of room for development in the nightlife industry of this city," another person chimed in. "Of course, we need to ensure the 'cooperation' of law enforcement; otherwise, these beautiful girls will be wasted."
Brothels, human trafficking, smuggling, drug trade... these terms were casually tossed around in the conversation as if discussing market strategies rather than criminal activities that involved countless lives.
Carter's head buzzed with confusion; it was all so absurd that he could hardly breathe.
And what about Rain?
Rain merely nodded, occasionally swirling the drink in his glass. Amidst the swirling smoke, his expression remained unfazed, as if these topics were nothing more than everyday chatter, devoid of burden or moral weight.
At times, he would shake his head slightly, laughing off certain overly explicit requests, but his tone was not harsh; instead, it carried a hint of indulgence, like a king turning a blind eye to the ambitions of his subjects.
"You really don't know how to hold back at all," Rain said with a cigar in his mouth, chuckling lightly. "But this is how the world operates, isn't it? Some people have to get their hands dirty so that others can live cleanly..."
Carter's fists clenched tighter, his nails nearly digging into his palms.
In that moment, he finally understood—
Rain was not "forced" to deal with these people; he was not participating in these dirty transactions due to pressure for campaign funds.
He was willing; he was adept; he was one of the players in this game.
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