Gilded Truth

Chapter Four

The familiar rustic stench emanates around the damp and dark alleyway towards the underground economy. Men cloaked in black and hoods lean by the wall, watching from the shadows, gazes lingering with desires of either to kill or of lust—waiting for their prey, like the underground is nothing but an abyss where one would sell their souls for gold and power. Ivo and I are dressed in our long hunter cloaks, hidden under our hoods and masks covering half of our faces so that only our eyes can be seen. But even with masks covering our noses and mouths, the stench sends shivers down our spines. There are long questions of whether the stench is from the rust of those metals because of the acids from the water trickling down from abandoned buildings, or of blood that waters the brick paved path.

We walk down a basement of a two-story abandoned building, its windows almost obsolete, if not, broken in pieces sharp enough to pierce through one's skin. Metal rods are scattered around the place, rusting and mixing with the awful stench of the underground. Distant chatters and waves of laughter can be heard, probably from gambling or prostitution. Just the thought of defenseless women being thrown away to a den of monsters here in the underground does not sit well with me. My stomach churns at the thought that some of these women are children taken advantage of by their naivety.

Ivo knocks on the solid metal door, in a succession of a pattern—a password created for those who frequent down here. The loud clicking sound echoes from the other side and the door ominously opens, the dim red lights inside the place guides us to the hallway towards the deeper rooms of the underground. The distant cries, laughs, and even moans in every room we have passed by are sending goosebumps down my spine. I can feel every hair in my body rise as the cold air sweeps and caresses my only exposed skin. The air in the underground is as suffocating as ever, reminding me of the reason why I don't often here.

Our steps echo around the hollowed hallway. I instinctively reach towards my belt and the cold body of my gun kisses my skin. Its coldness is a comforting home to me, the assurance and security that I ever need. Even with Ivo around, I can only rely on myself. And I will need to drench my hands with blood in the end, then I would only be the one accountable for myself. The door creaks and we see a man sitting on a worn-down sofa inside. The dim lights cast a shadow on his face like he's the devil incarnate himself. A woman is standing behind him, barely wearing anything; dressed in black lingerie, her hands cuffed and on her neck is a collar with chains connected to the hands of her master. My fingers itch to reach for my gun, but Ivo beside me steps closer.

"You don't want to act recklessly," he reminds me. Another woman sits on his lap, straddling him as she helps her light his cigarette. No guards are around him but with how he looks right now, surely he is one you would not want to mess with. He's probably a master gambler who won numerous bets and these women are his trophy. It's dehumanizing how people would bet their lives or even their families, it just shows how people are innately greedy by nature with gold and power as an evil driving force, and how easy it would be to forget that you are a human and not of someone else's marionette just because they wanted something they long craved for and that they could have it right on the palm of their hands in a snap or even lose it all in a gamble.

The scent of cigarettes lingers around the room as I walk closer to him. Ivo stands on my rear, his senses heightened. I remove my hood, unraveling my long, jet-black hair. The master gambler's eyes survey me from head to toe, his hands reaching his chin, rubbing it as his tongue plays inside his mouth, licking his molars. One could already guess that he is stripping me in his mind, fantasizing about what would my bare body look like, and despite wanting to hug myself, I do not want to reveal my weakness in front of a sex trafficker.

My gaze goes back to the woman behind him and the one on his lap. Despite their beauty and seductive bodies, their eyes hold no life. They are probably drugged or forced to serve him, treating them like dolls and playthings that once they are done, they'll just throw them away. "How can I help you? You seemed to be too young to be here." He taps his other lap and the one straddling on top of him instinctively sits on his left lap while the one behind him walks towards him and straddles his right lap. The latter looks at me, her eyes pleading. I know that she's new to this and she does not want to be in this dark, damp, and grimy place.

"We need a job. We read that you're out there offering a generous amount for a bounty." As if my words are his cue, he looks at Ivo who is standing behind me, his arms crossed in front of his chest. A deep and loud chortle escapes the master gambler's throat as if he just heard a joke that made him have the laugh of a lifetime. "You and him? Sweetie, you look too fragile for that bounty. If you really want a job, I do have a special job for you." My eyebrow shoots up. I look at Ivo through my peripheral, and he nods. He walks towards the door and I walk closer to the man in front of me. "What job?" He snickers and points at his crotch. I'm glad that I am wearing a mask or else he would notice how my jaws clench in utter annoyance.

"How about you give me a handjob and I'll pay you generously?"

I snicker, this time it's my turn to find his jokes funny. I motion for the other two girls to move out of the way. They do what they are told and stand beside the sofa. That master gambler's ridiculous smile, I want to wipe that annoying smile out of his face and give him a lesson he will remember.

I lean on the sofa, my knee in between his thighs and my left hand on the backrest of the sofa. My right hand reaches for my pistol and even before he could react, the cold nuzzle of my gun is pressed against his forehead. "Then let's make a deal, a gamble. I bet you're good at it. A little game of Russian Roulette. Choose a number from one to six, and I'll put the barrel of this pistol with the number you said. If you're lucky then I'll give you what you want and you'll pay me generously." A glint of fear and hesitancy floods his eyes, and a surge of satisfaction fills my heart. "I'll let my gun do the job in my stead. What do you think?"

His Adam's apple bobs up and down. I lean closer to his ear and whisper, "I gave you a choice, if you don't want my gamble then set these women free and give us the information for our bounty. We will only accept it once you give us half of the bounty's pay in advance." I remove my knees in between his thighs and stand in front of him, my gun still pointing toward him. "What can you say?" I ask, lacing my voice with the sweetest voice I could muster.

"Fine . . . take the women. I don't need them anyway! The information for the bounty is on that bulletin." His shaky fingers point towards the bulletin in one corner of the room. I walk towards the bulletin and grab the piece of paper pinned on it. Gunshots echo in the room and I instinctively look towards Ivo, faint smoke emanating from his gun. My eyes dart towards the man who almost faints on the sofa.

A few inches away from his body is a gun plated with gold. I walk towards him and pick up the gun. "I'll take this as a bonus." His sofa now has a hole just in between his hand and the gun. "May that hole serve as a warning if you do not want a hole to your head or heart." I remove my cloak and wrap it around one of the women and Ivo does the same. Cold air sweeps as it touches my now exposed skin. Wearing a fitted bodysuit, my arms are exposed to the damp air. An armband covers the tattoo on my forearm; I do not want to risk myself being recognized.

My arm protectively wraps around the woman beside me. I can feel her shaking under any human contact. My eyes glare towards the man who is left dumbfounded by my threats and Ivo's warning. Ivo opens the door and guards tower the doorway. I look back at him and give him my last warning, "Our gamble is still effective. Your choice."

We walk past the guards, bringing the hostage women with us and the gold-plated gun I recovered. I could dismantle it and sell it at a fair price. Rehabilitating these women would add another cost to us, but I can't fathom leaving them behind with that horrendous man groping and lewdly caressing their bodies.

"That's my girl," Ivo whispers. I can imagine that he has a wide smile behind his mask as he guides the other woman. His eyes probably glistening with joy from the entertainment he just had.

In this system, women are often seen as toys, a mere form of entertainment, or a source of pleasure. But one should never underestimate a woman for the power she holds can exceed every man's expectation. If a man can gamble, so is a woman. Women are risk takers and expert gamblers in a men-dominated society.

"I am no one's property." I hear Ivo's low chortle as we come out from the basement and the familiar rustic and damp alleyway welcomes us again.