—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The sudden gunshot shattered Camilla’s focus.
“Mmm.”
I kissed the “frog prince” on the lips. As I kissed her, I slowly peeled off her remaining clothes, layer by layer. With each layer, I kissed her again and again, not because she couldn’t answer, but because I couldn’t bear to see her body slowly revealed.
Camilla was embarrassed but didn’t pull away. In fact, she couldn’t. The CCTV blind spot was so small that we had to be close.
Even though we knew the cameras were turned off, we also knew they could be turned on at any moment.
As I peeled off her top, my throat went dry.
Because she had been wearing so many layers, Camilla’s breasts were compressed. It felt like they would burst out if I pulled on them even slightly.
I felt strange. A bubbling sensation, like I needed to release something.
In the unprotected zones, it hadn’t been this bad. I was always hungry.
Cassandra had taught me some tricks, and they had been somewhat effective, but I always felt something was missing. Hunger was always there, even when I was sleeping, fighting, or eating.
Hunger was the strongest, followed by the need for sleep, and then sex.
But now that the hunger was gone, my priorities had shifted. Especially in this situation, with a woman like this in my arms, moaning at my touch.
Camilla pulled me closer.
“Mmm.”
As her shoulders trembled, I could see her breasts rise and fall. She looked up at me with expectant eyes.
Should I stroke her hair? I knew some people didn’t like that.
But my hand was already moving to her hair. Camilla’s cheeks and lips turned red. When I brushed her cheek with my fingers, she flinched slightly, as if ticklish.
Camilla wrapped her arms around my neck. We kissed and mingled our tongues. It was much gentler than last time.
“Johan.”
“Yeah?”
“I was too rough last time, wasn’t I?”
“Um. Well, it was okay.”
Actually, it hadn’t been okay at all.
“Oh no, the dumbbell’s leaking. It keeps coming out. What do I do?” She had squeezed it, plugged it, rubbed it, shook it, and wiped it, almost all night.
“I’ll be gentle this time. But in return…”
Camilla took my hand and placed it on her lower abdomen.
“…You lend me a hand too. But don’t look at my face.”
“Here?”
“Just…us…just with our hands…”
We both swallowed hard, as if on cue.
The phone rang.
“Ah,” Camilla bit her lip, glaring at the living room.
The phone rang again.
“…It’s a bit uncomfortable here…”
He tried to soothe her, but he was also trying to soothe himself. The CCTV camera hidden behind the shower curtain was constantly in his mind.
“Yeah. I know.”
The phone rang a third time.
“Go, go!”
He couldn’t hold it in any longer and shouted. Camilla chuckled and squeezed his crotch tightly.
“You’re really angry,” she said. “I’ll go shower first.”
She slipped into the bathroom. He watched the closed door, a smile playing on his lips. He had answered the phone just before the mood was completely ruined.
“Sir. This is the front desk. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice a bit sharper than intended. The interruption had really thrown him off.
“The earplugs were included in your payment, but our staff member forgot to provide them.”
…Thankfully, that was the problem. He felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“We apologize. We’ve sent someone right away. Please open the door when they knock.”
Shortly after, a desk clerk arrived. It was the fat man with the gold tooth.
“I apologize,” the man said, humbly presenting four pairs of earplugs and a nightstick. The earplugs were branded with the words “Military Grade” and the slogan “The best choice for protecting the hearing of artillery and aviation maintenance personnel!”
“What’s the nightstick for?” he asked, bewildered.
“You can use it to beat me until your anger subsides,” the man replied without a hint of hesitation. He was completely unfazed by the request.
“Excuse me?”
“Please accept my sincerest apologies.”
The man bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor. He seemed genuinely apologetic, but the request was still absurd.
“Get up,” he said.
The man rose and calmly straightened his clothes.
“If you wish, you can beat me while I stand.”
“No, I’m not going to beat you with a nightstick. This thing is solid metal! It could kill someone.”
The man blinked a few times, then replied in a monotone voice, “Sir, our hotel operates on the principles of trust and faith. A single mistake by a staff member can lead to customer dissatisfaction and even death. Therefore, staff members must be prepared for any consequences.
While not a matter of life or death, failing to provide the earplugs was a dereliction of our duty. Therefore, I humbly request your punishment.”
“Are the rules really that important?”
He had received a long list of instructions, and it seemed that despite being a criminal organization, they were surprisingly strict in their adherence to rules.
“As I mentioned, trust and faith are our greatest assets. These are values that are rare in this age. That’s why we created rules that everyone must follow. Rules are the foundation of this hotel.”
“What if someone betrays you?”
“Betrayal is met with betrayal. Trust is met with trust. Loyalty is met with loyalty. Ninety-nine betrayals followed by one act of trust will be met with ninety-nine betrayals followed by one act of trust. There is no eternal betrayal, and no eternal cooperation. Only the most recent action matters.”
The man gestured towards the nightstick, implying that he should use it. However, he had no intention of hitting him. If he hit him now, he would have no leverage over the man.
But what if he held onto this favor? The man would be indebted to him.
A small favor, regardless of its size, is sometimes more valuable than a large one that cannot be used immediately. It’s like choosing a sip of water when thirsty over a pile of diamonds.
“Consider it a debt,” he said. “I don’t intend to hit you.”
The man did not accept the nightstick. Instead, he asked, “Why not?”
“Do you enjoy being beaten?”
“Ah! Ah! Master, more! Ah!”
The sound of leather against flesh and the mournful groans of the middle-aged man echoed through the corridor. It was more chilling than any horror movie. The man seemed visibly shaken, but not completely heartless.
“…Not particularly,” he replied.
“Then, please do me a favor sometime. I don’t have anything specific in mind right now.”
The man’s face brightened. His eyes sparkled, much like the eyes of a shopkeeper when a customer expresses interest in buying something.
“So, you will continue to patronize our establishment?”
“Yes.”
“You can find me at the front desk. My name is Fernando. Your name is Caesar, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for your understanding, sir.”
He started to leave, but I stopped him.
“…Just out of curiosity, what did you do for a living before this?”
“I was a finance manager at a power company,” Fernando replied, bowing respectfully before walking down the corridor. The middle-aged man’s groans continued to echo through the hallway.
Suddenly, someone opened a door and pointed a gun at Fernando.
“You fucking bastard! You’re enjoying it, aren’t you, you dog!”
The man was clearly drunk. Fernando calmly kicked the man in the shins, struck the gun away with the nightstick, and then cracked him in the jaw with his elbow.
“Assaulting a staff member is prohibited, sir. You can kill other guests, but not staff.”
Fernando brought the nightstick down on the man’s fingers, shattering them one by one. The man howled in pain and tried to protect his groin, but Fernando struck his elbow again, sending it limp.
“Aaargh!”
The man recoiled, his fingers now useless. Fernando gently placed the gun back on his chest.
“Here you go, sir. Consider it returned.”
He was a truly considerate gentleman.
He returned to the room, where Camilla was peeking out the door.
“Johan, what was that?”
“Nothing,” he replied.
The next day, sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm orange glow. The warmth of the sun on his face felt pleasant.
The dry blanket was surprisingly soft and comfortable.
“Good,” he murmured to himself.
How long had it been since he’d slept so soundly?
The cash truck robbery came to mind first. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable sleep, crammed into the back of the truck with just a thin blanket.
This wasn’t exactly a comfortable bed either.
The mattress was as hard as a board, covered in a plastic sheet.
A warning sign with a skull and crossbones was attached, stating, “For hygienic reasons, this cover must not be removed. Violators will be subject to severe penalties.”
On top of the plastic, there was a thin military blanket and a single pillow.
And then there were the cameras.
Cameras were mounted on the walls and ceiling. A sign below each read, “A red blinking light indicates recording in progress. Please feel at ease.”
Even the bathroom had a waterproof camera installed.
The only blind spot was a narrow corridor between the bathroom and the bedroom, barely wide enough for two people to squeeze through.
That had made things rather difficult with Camilla.
At least the noise problem was solved. The earplugs worked wonders.
He wondered what Camilla was doing.
He got out of bed and opened the door.
The living room was empty.
He considered going to her room, but it seemed too sudden.
He figured she would want some time to herself after last night.
Suddenly, the door swung open. He jumped back in surprise.
“Johan,” Camilla said, her eyes filled with tears.
He hurried to her bed and sat down beside her.
Her room was just as heavily surveilled as his. They sat on the edge of the bed, keeping their backs to the cameras as much as possible.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “I had a bad dream.”
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “It’s alright. You can sleep some more.”
“No, I’m fine now,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just… a nightmare.”
“Do you want some water? I brought some painkillers too.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just… I’m a little shaken.”
He noticed a slight tremor in her hands. It wasn’t just the after-effects of the nightmare. She seemed genuinely anxious.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” she insisted, but her voice wavered.
He knew it wasn’t just the nightmare. Something else was bothering her.
After she had washed her face and calmed down, they sat facing each other.
“Here,” she said, pointing to a cable protruding from the wall. “It’s here.”
He connected the cable to his laptop. The screen displayed the message, “Connected to Network.”
He opened the search bar and typed in “Continental Hotel Marketplace.” A page loaded immediately. It looked familiar.
It was almost identical to the interface he had seen in that game – a marketplace with items categorized in a tree-like structure on the left and filters for name and price at the top.
“It’s more intuitive than I expected,” he said.
He clicked on the top item, “
“What are Continental Credits?” he asked.
Fortunately, there was a help window in the upper right corner.
Continental Credits, it explained, were like casino chips.
They had no value outside the hotel but were used for internal transactions. Each credit had a unique anti-counterfeiting QR code.
The trading system was also similar to what he remembered.
To list an item, you simply selected the item, entered the quantity, your room number, and the desired price. To find a buyer, you clicked on the item and scheduled a meeting.
Conveniently, the system automatically prioritized the highest bidder.
There was also a section for requesting items. You could list items you wanted to buy and others could contact you if they had them.
Curious, he and Camilla began browsing the marketplace. They noticed a pattern: common household goods and appliances were heavily traded, while luxury items were rarely listed.
“Look at this,” he said, pointing to the screen.
The marketplace displayed the average market price for each item to prevent price gouging. A notice at the bottom stated, “This service becomes a paid feature after 10 searches. Please contact the front desk for details.”
On the other hand, there were few listings for luxury goods like the alcohol and cigars they had brought with them. They could find some cheap jewelry, but the trading volume was low, and the prices were erratic.
“I didn’t realize Minsk vodka was so rare. It’s barely even listed,” Camilla said, looking surprised.
This was a situation even Camilla hadn’t anticipated.
“What do we do?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern.
Suddenly, he remembered the incident with the desk clerk.
It was time to collect his debt.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
