The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 32: The Social Club (1)

A large high-rise hotel in the centre of Underdog City.

On the 69th and 70th floors, a large club is located.

'Burning suspension'

An exclusive social club where the best and brightest of Underdog City gather.

It's where the rich and powerful gather to burn off their youth.

Champagnes costing as much as 100 million gold a bottle were being flown in, and fast-paced, upbeat music was blaring.

Hookahs of an unknown variety send up clouds of smoke and colourful lights bathe them in colour.

The atmosphere was so lavish and extravagant that it could have been an imperial court ball.

"Here, pile it up!"

"Bring it all in!"

"Let's build a tower today!"

A room tucked away in the deepest recesses of the club.

Seven young apprentices were hanging out in this room, which costs 10 million gold for six hours and is only accessible to VVIPs.

Champagne, costing more than 100 million gold a bottle, is being brought in on ice.

In the centre of a large table, champagne glasses were stacked high in a pyramid.

At the bottom, 100 glasses are arranged in the shape of a 10*10 square.

On top are 81 champagne glasses in a 9*9 shape.

On top of that, 64 champagne glasses in the shape of 8*8.

49 on top of that, 36 on top of that, 25 on top of that, 16 on top of that, 9 on top of that, 4 on top of that...

One last glass of champagne was placed on top, completing the pyramid-shaped champagne tower.

The seven assembled masters chuckle and pour the 100 million gold champagne, Don Quixote Perignon 666, from the bottle into the top champagne glass.

And then.

cackle cackle...

After filling the top glass, the champagne begins to drip into the lower glasses, gradually filling them up.

When the bottle of champagne was halfway empty, the masters ruthlessly threw it away and ordered a new one.

And so on.

The champagne that filled the glasses at the top would trickle down and fill the glasses below.

Thus the 385 glasses that made up the tower of champagne were all full.

The master laughed and said

"Hey, drink what you spill on the table."

Just then, the waiters standing at the entrance to the room rushed over.

"Thank you, brothers."

"Thanks to you, I've tasted such precious liquor, and I'm properly pampered."

"We will serve you with all our souls today."

The waiters smile and lick the drops of champagne that have spilled onto the table.

The masters chuckle and sprinkle gold coins on their faces.

"This is the trickle-down effect."

Champagne dripping from the top, filling the glasses below, soaking the table, and seven men laughing at the sight of it.

These men were the core members of the local government's Youth Autonomy Committee.

It's just a civilian organisation made up of second- and third-generation local tohu, yujiu, and sedo, but their influence in the community cannot be ignored.

They had enough money and power to hold some low-level government positions, but they were still aristocrats, lording it over the common people.

They had lived in the region for a long time, so they were aware of the situation around them.

As such, the Baskervilles also gave them some power and allowed them to handle troublesome matters on their own.

In exchange for a small amount of tribute and taxes, they were granted some autonomy by the Baskervilles.

...In fact, historically speaking, all of the masters here are descendants of families that were defeated and relegated to the margins of the Empire's central power struggles.

With the exception of the Baskervilles, who have been sent by the Emperor to expand the borders of the Empire, all of them are nothing special.

But the young people gathered here don't seem to think so.

"It's better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon."

"It's better to play here, away from the prying eyes of the imperial family?"

"Yes. I went to a club in the imperial capital the other day, and it was much more luxurious here."

"Besides, we're guarded by those Baskervilles. How safe are we?"

"Giggle giggle – aren't the Baskervilles our hounds at this point?"

The masters were not without their faults.

While the Baskervilles were preoccupied with expanding their borders, they were rotting away inside.

So where did the money come from to pay for all this luxury and debauchery?

The main source of income for local tax collectors is actually quite modest.

At best, the water taxes from the reservoirs that water the fields, road use taxes, tolls, and the proceeds from the sale of livestock... are just a small amount of money to pay the butlers and serfs.

Both the money going out and the money coming in are small, but... in fact they had a hidden source of income.

Illegal slave auctions.

This is the kidnapping, imprisonment, and sale of unauthorised persons into slavery.

In recent years, the Baskervilles' aggressive territorial expansion has displaced an increasing number of barbarian peoples, so they've been sneaking around the world, luring them in with tricks or kidnapping them by force to sell them.

In other words, they would work for free for the Baskervilles and pick up the crumbs.

With no taxes and a steady flow of business, money naturally accumulates.

With the black money they earned, the masters were able to spend their youth on fire.

They can't put it in the bank because it's illegally earned, so they burn it all in cash machines.

"The champagne tower is full! Go let the kids in! Bring in the good ones."

They sent the waiters away for a while.

Then we started chattering amongst ourselves.

"By the way," I said, "it's so nice to have an uptight family like the Messinadnaros gone. We can have fun without all the prying eyes."

"Actually, that's the way it should be. We're playing with our own money."

"Good thing we framed them and sent them packing, huh?"

"Let's not let them be members in the future."

They smoked bubbling hookahs and looked languid.

One of them suddenly looked up.

"By the way. By the way, have you guys heard about the new deputy?"

"Uh, yeah, I put in a request for an interview. He's got the Barnes surname."

"Hmm. Well, if he's a half-breed, he must be a bastard."

"You should feel honoured to be called by us."

"Cackle, cackle, he's going to come running."

They always did something called "taming the junior bureaucrats" when new deputy commissioners came in.

It's not a big deal, it's just a little bit of an extravagant party to dazzle them.

It was like putting a leash on a dog, saying, "If you're going to follow us, you're going to listen to us." The masters would chuckle.

The masters chuckled.

"His name is Vikir. Have you ever heard of him?"

"I don't know, I've never heard of him."

"She's 15. They say this is her first time out of the family."

"What? Isn't she a total brat?"

"Yeah, he's a brat. He's got a huge drinking problem the first time he came to city hall. He must be a bit of a wreck."

"C'mon, if you think he'll fit in with us."

Then one of the masters had a brilliant idea.

"Why don't we tease him a little bit, while we're at it?"

He extended his index finger and explained his plan.

"Later, we'll have a big party and invite him over. We'll get the best liquor, we'll get all the girls, and we'll have a good, old-fashioned fuck."

"And?"

"And then later, after the party, we'll make him pay for the drinks."

The masters burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay, that sounds like fun."

"Don't you think his eyes will pop out when he sees you begging?"

"You need to realise that your eldest son is spending this much money to entertain you. If you take it for granted, you'll go away."

"I don't think a 15-year-old civil servant would have the money, and he wouldn't be able to find a place to get it because he'd be reprimanded if he reported it to his family."

"Then you can say it was a joke and pay him back later."

The masters had a plan for the new deputy bureaucrat, and how to roast him.

Just then.

"Gentlemen, the girls are here-!"

A waiter burst through the door with a huge grin on his face.

Soon, numerous women peeked into the club room, amazed at the luxury.

Some of them were familiar faces, and the masters waved at them.

"Hey, you're back again?"

"After all that?"

"Send him away. We're happy for you, ugh."

"Why? I thought she was pretty."

"Hey, come over here and sit down this time!"

One by one, the women entered the room.

...See?

At the end of the line of girls, there was a strange one.

A boy, maybe in his early teens? A very young looking boy.

He followed the women into the room from the back of the queue, and it was so natural that the waiters didn't even bother to stop him.

The seven masters scanned the women, cracking crude jokes, and finally spotted the boy.

"But what's with him? Did you bring a male waiter? Well, he looks cute."

"Oh, don't you know him?"

"No, I don't."

The teachers, the waiters, and the women all look puzzled.

What is this kid doing here?

One of the waiters raises his eyebrows.

"He walked in so boldly that no one thought anything of it. How dare you, you little shack, tell me where...!"

But he couldn't quite reach out to grab the boy by the hair.

Oops.

The sound of something thick and hard breaking.

The waiter suddenly realised that his wrist had been turned in a strange direction.

"Ugh!"

The boy had just broken a grown man's thick forearm with sheer brute force.

"What, what, you!"

Three or four waiters pounced at once, but it took less than a second before they were all on the floor.

The masters' faces hardened slightly.

"What's with you, kid? What are you doing here? Do you know who your brothers are?"

"I know."

The boy's voice was devoid of any emotion.

"They're the idiots from Xiangcheng."

No respect, no fear, no cowering, not even a hint of contempt.

The masters were stunned for a moment.

Then, with a single, hearty laugh.

"That's right. We're the idiots from Xiangcheng."

"He must know who we are."

"Then we only need to know who he is."

"Kid, who are you?"

The masters were debating whether this was funny or not.

But it was.

The boy's next words wiped the smiles off their faces.

"Vikir."

The new Deputy Magistrate.

Vikir van Baskerville is here.

The apprentices slid their feet off the table.

Then he rose to his feet and asked.

"Vice... Exarch? What brings you here....?"

"You called for me."

At Vikir's words, the masters exchanged another blank look.

Then.

"Wahahahahaha- this is hot, Deputy! I didn't think you'd come so soon!"

The mood is not good.

Moreover, the masters had just been insulted, and their pride had been bruised.

"Shall we start taming the new recruits right away?"

"Sure. Let's buy some liquor."

"What if we roast them, boil them, sit them down, and then ask them to pay for their drinks later at the end of the party...?"

But... their cute little plan didn't quite work out.

...Thud!

Vikir slammed his hand on the table.

And.

Tsk, tsk, tsk...

The black aura of the Baskervilles emanated from him.

The mana in Vikir's body radiated through his hand and into the table.

A ferocious resonance, a violent vibration.

Boom, boom, boom, boom...

On the table, in the glasses, the champagne suddenly began to boil.

And then.

The great tower of champagne in the centre of the room changed.

...Pow!

A single glass at the top of the champagne tower suddenly exploded.

Numerous glass shards and champagne drops sparkled and scattered below.

...Boom!

...clink! ...clink!

...clink! ...clink! ...clink! ...clink!

...clink! ...clink! ...clink! ...clink! ...clink! ...clink!

The four glasses that were downstairs,

nine glasses downstairs,

16 glasses downstairs,

and 25 glasses downstairs,

36 glasses downstairs,

49 glasses downstairs,

64 glasses downstairs,

81 glasses downstairs,

100 glasses below that, all exploding and shattering one after the other.

The champagne tower had collapsed.

It didn't collapse from the bottom, it exploded backwards from the top.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.

Countless glass shards and champagne drops rained down on the VVIP room.

Under the rain, the masters of Sedoga could only say one thing.

"We were going to pay for the ...."

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