Making a quick stop at his apartment, Song headed straight for the bathroom and took a long, steaming shower to wash away the blood and grime clinging to his skin.
When he finally stepped out, he threw on a fresh set of clothes; something casual and comfortable.
A few minutes later, he stood before the mirror, gazing at his reflection in silence.
Lu Song wore a plain black T-shirt that fit snugly against his lean build, paired with faded jeans and a lightweight gray jacket that hung loosely from his shoulders. His short dark hair was still damp, falling slightly over his forehead, and droplets of water trailed down his neck before soaking into the fabric of his shirt.
A faint scar ran along the side of his collarbone — a souvenir from his last descent — barely visible under the low light of the room. His eyes, however, were what stood out the most. Calm, bottomless, and weary, as if he had lived far longer than his age suggested.
Giving himself a complete look over, he turned here and there before ruffling his hair with a mutter:
"This should be good enough, right?"
After all, it wasn't like he was dressing to impress anyone and that desire hadn't faded in the slightest. Truthfully, he was still quite lustful, horny and pent-up. But he already had Chloe so there was no need to look for anyone else.
...Wait a minute.
'Just what the hell am I thinking? Chloe isn't your girlfriend, dammit. We're not romantically involved!' Song scolded himself, as if trying to beat the thought out of his own head.
The truth, however, was far more complicated.
They had already crossed a line that should never have been crossed long ago. That was why the two childhood friends had advanced their relationship to that "level" but not beyond.
No one knew this secret other than themselves.
From an outsider's point of view, though, it probably looked like they were just delaying the inevitable by all means, bound by unspoken reasons that only the two of them truly understood.
Well, it didn't matter.
Finished with his preparations, Song opened an app, inputted the address of his destination and booked a ride. He waited outside the house for a few minutes before the vehicle arrived. The black sedan hummed as it rolled to a stop in front of his apartment.
The driver, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a calm demeanor, glanced at him through the open window.
"You Mr. Song?"
He nodded and replied with a "Yeah."
"Alright, hop in."
Song slid into the back seat, and his nose was immediately assumed by the strong scent of air freshener mixed with something else. A faint, lingering trace of perfume clung to the air, floral and sweet.
Probably the previous passenger, he thought absently.
But the scent was… too strong. Overpowering, even.
A sudden suspicion crossed his mind, and when he glanced down, his expression froze.
There, on the floor mat, lay a used Trojan wrapper casually discarded, as if it belonged there.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
His brow twitched in visible irritation, and he exhaled through his nose.
"Classy."
Song muttered under his breath and leaned back in the seat with a resigned sigh.
It seemed even cab rides in this city couldn't escape a touch of depravity.
As the car pulled away from the curb, he leaned against the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of color. Simultaneously, his thoughts began to wander.
† †
"Is this the right place?" Lu Song questioned with a skeptical look.
The address Marcus had given him had led to a place called "Velvet Sanctuary."
Originally, the building had been a strip club, but after an Infection outbreak left it in ruins, it was rebuilt and rebranded into something more respectable.
Glancing around, Song noted how empty it was.
Only a handful of customers occupied the dimly lit space, their quiet chatter blending with the soft hum of background music. Despite its extravagant decor, the establishment wasn't exactly popular.
Hidden away like this, it was clear the place catered to a very specific crowd.
Female attendants glided across the floor, serving customers in outfits that were anything but kid-friendly. They weren't exactly indecent, but intentional and suggestive enough to draw attention without crossing the line.
The male patrons certainly didn't seem to mind; their eyes followed with great lustful desire, and their smiles betrayed no complaints.
Meanwhile, the young women appeared completely unfazed by the stares they were receiving.
So much for a family restaurant. And the entire staff's female too…
Lu Song frowned. He already had a good idea why his friend had chosen to meet him in a place like this.
...Speaking of which, where's that little devil anyway?
"Yo, Song! Over here!"
'Huh?'
Drawn by the familiar voice, Song turned his head and spotted a black-haired young man waving from a corner booth with a grin plastered across his face as if he'd been waiting all evening.
Look at the damn pervert.
His mouth twitched, so he slapped his lips together and forced a smile.
With heavy steps, Lu Song made his way toward the booth, weaving between tables until he stood before the grinning green-haired man.
Marcus was sprawled comfortably across the seat, one arm draped over the backrest and a half-empty glass of something amber in front of him. His hair was slicked back in its usual messy fashion, and his button-up shirt was open at the top, revealing just enough of his chest to match the bar's overall tone.
"Damn, you took your sweet time," Marcus drawled, "I was starting to think you ditched me."
Song slid into the opposite seat with a sigh.
"You invited me to a glorified brothel, Marcus. What exactly did you expect?"
Marcus's grin widened.
"Oh, come on. Don't be so uptight. This place has good food, cold drinks, and 'exceptional' service."
"Right. Because that's totally why you picked it."
The black-haired boy raised both hands in mock salute.
"Ah, you know me too well."
"Unfortunately," Song leaned back and relaxed his shoulders.
Just then, a female attendant approached their table. She was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, with long chestnut hair tied neatly into a ponytail. Her uniform was a fitted black vest over a white blouse and a skirt that stopped just above the knees.
Quite suggestive to say the least, especially if one considered her curvaceous figure and ample breasts. The poor fabric around her chest region were being stretched to their limits!
With a smile she had probably practiced several times over, the attendant greeted with a warm tone:
"Welcome to Velvet Sanctuary. What can I get you gentlemen tonight?"
Marcus flashed his usual grin that could charm a nun out of prayer.
"Two glasses of your best whiskey. Neat. And maybe some fries to start."
Her gaze flicked briefly toward Song, who gave a simple nod in acknowledgment.
"Right away," she said with a polite bow before heading off, swaying her hips in a seductive manner that Marcus very obviously noticed.
Song's brow twitched.
"You really don't have any shame, do you?"
Marcus laughed under his breath.
"What? I'm just appreciating the service. It'd be rude not to."
Song scowled.
"Yeah, sure. Staring at her ass counts as appreciation now? Do I look like I'm wearing diapers to you?"
Marcus leaned back in his seat, completely unbothered.
"Geez... relax, man. It's not a crime to look with my eyes. I'm just showing a little appreciation. No one's getting hurt."
He smirked and added,
"You should try it sometime. Loosen up a little, will you? You're wound tighter than a sniper rifle spring."
Song didn't respond immediately. His gaze drifted toward the bar counter, where the attendants worked with efficiency and grace, all smiles despite the clearly adult atmosphere of the place. The hum of low conversation and the faint scent of alcohol mixed with perfume filled the air, creating an odd sense of calmness that didn't quite fit him.
Curious, he asked:
"Now that I think about it, how did you even find this place to begin with?"
Marcus chuckled, taking a slow sip of his whiskey before answering.
"You make it sound like I dragged you into some shady back-alley joint. Relax, it's legit. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Yeah. A buddy of mine told me about it. Said it used to be one of the Black Zone recovery sites. After they rebuilt, some rich guy bought it, threw a ton of money into renovations, and voilà! Velvet Sanctuary was born."
Song arched a brow.
"So this used to be a contamination zone?"
Marcus nodded and took a sip of his drink.
"Mm-hmm. You'd never guess, right? They say the whole foundation's layered with purification sigils here and there now. That's why the drinks here are so expensive and apparently, everything's 'blessed' before it's served."
Song seemed unimpressed.
"You're telling me you brought me to an ex-strip club built over an Infection site because it serves holy whiskey?"
Marcus chuckled.
"Well, if you put it like that, it does sounds bad. But come on! You can't deny it's got atmosphere!"
"Atmosphere my ass! You just want to get your clutch wet, don't you?!"
Marcus only grinned wider, unbothered by the accusation.
Of course, Song knew his friend too well to be fooled. He could see right through his bullshit but he didn't bother saying anything more.
Because just then, the attendant from earlier returned, balancing their order on a tray.