029#
Andy awoke with a pounding headache, the sour aftertaste of too much wine still thick on his tongue. His eyes fluttered open to the dim, icy light of the isolation zone, and he found Luxter standing directly in front of him, snow-white hair catching the faint glow, red eyes fixed on him with cold intensity.
"Good morning, Mr. Number One," Luxter said smoothly, voice calm and mocking.
Andy tried to move, but his body didn't respond the way it should. His feet dangled above the frozen floor—he was suspended, arms stretched overhead, wrists bound tightly with rough rope to a thick iron hook in the ceiling. The chain from his slave collar hung loose, clinking softly with every shallow breath.
"What the hell is going on?!" Andy demanded, voice cracking with sudden panic as the reality sank in.
Luxter tilted his head slightly, almost amused. "As you've probably noticed… you're my prisoner now. And I'm going to kill you."
Fear and confusion exploded in Andy's chest. He jerked against the ropes, but they held fast.
"I don't understand—why?!" Andy asked, voice trembling despite his effort to sound steady.
Luxter stepped closer, the knife glinting in his hand. "It's simple," he said. "I need out of the isolation zone—and fast. Ilugin's gang is hunting me, and if I stay down here any longer, I'm dead." He sneered. "The only way out is being ranked number one. Last month, that was me. Untouchable. Now you show up—the shiny new alien—and I drop to second place. You're in my way. And I can't afford that."
Andy's mind raced. Kevin's words echoed back: Luxter… the guy who used to own the top spot. The rankings weren't just popularity—they were power, survival, everything in this hellhole.
"I don't even want to be number one!" Andy protested, panic rising. "I never asked for this!"
Luxter's smile faded into something colder. "Doesn't matter what you want. You're number one now, so get out of my way. I've already got enough problems with Ilugin breathing down my neck."
He raised the knife, blade catching the faint light as he closed the distance, ready to end it.
Before delivering the final blow, Luxter paused, knife still pressed lightly against Andy's throat.
"I heard you last night," he said calmly. "While you were drunk and half-asleep, you mumbled something about escaping… digging a tunnel."
"Huh?"
Luxter tilted his head, red eyes narrowing. "You talked in your sleep. About running away. A plan. Better spill it all right now and don't play dumb—or I'll make sure this is your second death."
The cold steel bit into Andy's skin just enough to draw a thin line of blood. Swallowing hard, fear and regret crashing over him, Andy cursed his own loose tongue.
With no way out, he spilled everything: the deal with Kevin, the plan to get sent to the isolation zone on purpose, the tunnel they'd dig from the dirt floor to reach the surface.
Luxter listened in silence, expression unreadable. When Andy finished, Luxter slowly pulled the knife away from his neck.
"That's… actually a solid plan, Mr. Alien," he said, a faint, impressed smile tugging at his lips. "I never would've thought of it myself."
He stepped back, twirling the knife once before slipping it into his sleeve.
"I want in on it too."
"What?" Andy blurted, eyes wide with shock.
Luxter's red eyes glinted in the dim light. "Think of it as a good thing. I know this place like I was born here—every crack, every guard rotation, every weak spot."
He pressed the knife back against Andy's throat, voice dropping to a low, menacing growl.
"You don't get a choice here, buddy. I can slit your throat right now, take my time finding another way out, and no one will miss you. Or… we team up. We both walk free. The decision's yours—but remember, death is always on the table."
The cold edge bit into Andy's skin, a thin trickle of blood running down his neck. Heart pounding, desperation overriding fear, Andy swallowed hard and nodded.
"Okay… deal."
Luxter studied him for a long second, then withdrew the knife in one smooth motion. With a quick flick of the blade, he severed the rope binding Andy's wrists to the ceiling. Andy dropped to his knees, rubbing his raw wrists, breathing ragged.
In that frozen, shadowed cell, a tense and fragile alliance was born—two prisoners bound by mutual need, each hiding their own secrets, united only by the desperate hope of escaping the Brothel of Lust alive.