The deeper they walked, the redder the world became.
The district glowed like a wound that refused to close. Neon tubes hummed in crimson, painting cracked walls in blood-red streaks. Behind clear glass panes, women moved like shadows under a spotlight — swaying hips, hands trailing down their own thighs, lips brushing against the glass as if begging to be touched.
It was less performance than transaction.
These weren't dancers chasing money. They were survivors too weak to kill. Their bodies were the only weapons they had, and they sold them to strong killers who could guard them until morning. If you couldn't swing a blade in Villian Ville, you offered yourself instead.
One hostess pressed her chest against the glass, licking it slowly, her eyes locking on Tim with the same desperation of a woman begging for life. Another bent low, twerking like a viral TikTok dancer, only to mouth words through the pane: "Take me with you."
Amy's cheeks flamed red. "They… they're like influencers, but real…" Her voice cracked. She clung to Tim's arm tighter, her petite chest pressing against him as if to shield herself from the scene.
Yuko smirked, though her eyes stayed sharp. "Influencers, OnlyFans, strip clubs — call it what you want. Here, it's just survival. Rent your body, buy another sunrise."
Tim kept his jaw tight. In the real world, he'd seen strip clubs and headlines about girls flashing skin for clout. But this wasn't clout. This was bargaining with flesh for protection.
Jenny's voice broke his thoughts. "This is where we'll find her. The Red Light District. The most dangerous place in the Ville. Not because of the sex, but because of what comes with it. These women are desperate, and desperate people will sell out anyone for a shield."
Lacey crossed her arms under her chest, glaring at the glass windows. She looked like a fitness model walking past the wrong gym — strong, beautiful, but disgusted. "It's pathetic."
Jenny didn't argue. Her lips curved into a bitter smile. "Pathetic, yes. But also clever. At least they live." She swept her hair back from her shoulder, firelight catching on her damp blouse. For a moment, Tim was thrown back to the first kiss at the gates, when she looked untouchable.
She steadied her tone. "The one we need here isn't a hostess. Her name is Casey. She's the spy who keeps this place from burning down when night falls, makes sure the killers don't rip the hostesses apart before they're 'paid.' She's as dangerous as she is unforgettable. If Tidam wants a fifth, she's the one."
Amy bit her lip. "But if she runs this place… won't that make her untouchable?"
Yuko shrugged, her smirk cruel. "No one's untouchable here. Not even queens."
Jenny led them deeper, where the music of glass cages gave way to silence. The alley narrowed, shadows clinging thicker. Perfume gave way to mold. Red lights dulled to black.
At the end of the path, under a flickering crimson lamp, they found her.
Casey.
She was tied to a post, ropes cutting into her arms and thighs. The outfit she wore was a mix of silk and leather, stretched so tight across her chest and hips it looked painted on. Her long legs strained against the bindings, her skin shining under the dim glow. Even gagged, her eyes burned sharp — part seduction, part defiance.
She wasn't prey. She was a fox caged.
Tim felt his breath catch despite himself. Jenny hadn't exaggerated. Casey looked like a celebrity cover star mid-scandal, curves deliberate, aura lethal.
Amy gasped. "She looks like… like she belongs on stage."
Lacey muttered, voice hard. "She looks like trouble."
Before Tim could move, a voice slid from the shadows.
"Well, well. Look who finally crawled back."
Out of the crimson haze stepped Genny.
The Queen of Nomerci.
She was Jenny's reflection made into a weapon. Same lips, same eyes, same curves — but perfected. Jenny was torn, dirty, fragile. Genny was sleek, her corset hugging her body like molten leather, her hair shining like she'd stepped out of a K-pop stage show, all polish, no weakness.
Her smirk was venom. She looked straight at Jenny. "Hey, sister. Now you're turning against me?"
The air locked tight.
Jenny froze, fists trembling. "Genny…"
Tim's hand gripped his knife, rage snapping awake. Amy clung harder, trembling. Lacey shifted, ready to fight. Yuko's smirk vanished, eyes narrowed into knives.
Jenny and Genny stared at each other, mirror images divided only by blood.
Between them, Casey strained against her ropes, her gag muffling a growl.
The Red Light District, already thick with lust and desperation, became suffocating.
And Tim realized — the storm hadn't even started yet.