[Chapter 7]
Chelsea found herself lost in thought, considering the potential benefits that awaited her.
"Hmm, this could be a golden opportunity to earn some serious coins," she mused. "There's still some time before the danger beasts attack the village. I can hustle and gather enough money before making my move."
"Alright, Aunt, where's this guy staying?" Chelsea inquired.
"He's holed up at the inn," Aunt Kalie replied.
"I'll catch up with him later then. For now, let's wrap up these pending tasks, Lily, lend me a hand." Chelsea picked up the pile of unfinished dresses that had been neglected since Aunt Kalie fell ill.
With both of them working together, they should be able to tackle the remaining work in no time.
"Sis, are you seriously planning to meet that shady merchant?" Lily voiced her concerns, a hint of unease in her voice. Aunt Kalie's warning about the merchant had left Lily with a deep sense of mistrust.
"You betcha," Chelsea replied with a mischievous grin, opting not to elaborate any further.
The two sisters swiftly completed the dresses, even conjuring up new designs along the way, and headed out. Chelsea made sure to leave some food for Aunt Kalie, knowing that the old lady would appreciate it later.
The rest of the day was dedicated to training in the forest, with Chelsea discreetly practicing her imperial arms techniques. She had already shared the secret knowledge inherited from their deceased parents with Lily, who readily accepted the truth.
The following day, Chelsea ventured to the designated address to meet the merchant. Upon arriving at the inn, she found it to be an unremarkable two-story wooden structure. Though initially built to accommodate passing soldiers, it now served as a temporary abode for merchants and weary travelers.
As she entered the room, she encountered a single woman stationed behind the reception desk. The woman possessed an unremarkable face and appeared rather ordinary.
"Hey there, little lady, what brings you here?" the receptionist asked, her accent lending a touch of charm.
"Um, I'm here to meet the merchant. I was told to rendezvous with him at this inn," Chelsea replied, keeping her guard up.
"Oh, right! You must be the client the merchant was anticipating. He had mentioned your arrival. Follow me, and I'll take you to his room," the receptionist responded nonchalantly. However, a tinge of fear tinged her voice whenever she referred to the merchant. It was clear she held him in some kind of dread, refusing to address him solely as a merchant.
Chelsea raised an eyebrow, realizing that dealing with this merchant might be a slippery slope. She trailed behind the receptionist, making their way to the inn's first floor—a shared space that doubled as a village pub. Given the hour, it was sparsely populated, as merchants and businessmen tended to avoid mingling with common peasants under the same roof.
As Chelsea ascended the staircase, an unusual sound reached her ears—moans, to be precise. The moans grew louder as she approached the room she was being directed to. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her beyond that door.
The receptionist knocked on the door, her voice trembling as she said, "Sir Merchant, the young lady you were expecting has arrived."
"Send her in," came the muffled response from within, accompanied by the escalating moans.
The receptionist turned pale, visibly uncomfortable about allowing a young girl into a room amidst what appeared to be an unconventional gathering. She hesitated, furrowing her brows as she contemplated the ethical implications of her actions.
After a moment of internal struggle, she relented. Resistance could potentially unleash dire consequences for both herself and the young girl, so she chose to fulfill her duty.
Creak!
The door swung open, granting Chelsea passage into the room. With a slight nod of gratitude, she stepped forward as the receptionist quietly shut the door behind her, sending silent prayers for Chelsea's well-being.
Chelsea's senses were immediately assaulted by an overwhelming scent—a mixture of sweat and debauchery. Women were sprawled across the room, their bodies entangled and stained with the residue of their activities. The disheveled sheets and tainted floor bore witness to the aftermath of some unsavory encounters.
Chelsea couldn't help but cringe at the grotesque scene before her—the room reeked of bodily fluids, and the sight of women scattered across the room in various states of disarray left her feeling repulsed. It tainted even the simple pleasure of her lollipop, turning its sweetness bitter in her mouth.
Her gaze shifted toward the main sofa, where a man sat surrounded by a group of women, all of whom were familiar faces from the village—prostitutes who typically entertained guests at the pub.
With a seductive tone, one of the women poured a glass of wine for the man, teasingly remarking, "Master~ I never knew you had such peculiar tastes." Her playful demeanor betrayed her indifference to Chelsea's presence.
Another woman chimed in, her voice laced with a mix of playfulness and concern, "Master, aren't we enough for you?" It was clear she still possessed some semblance of a conscience, unlike the others.
Taking sips from his wine, the man responded, "Don't misunderstand, my dear ladies. This young girl and I have some business to discuss."
He instructed the women to clean up the room and restore order while leading Chelsea to a relatively cleaner corner.
"So, you're the talented young girl behind those designs," he commented, suspicion evident in his eyes.
Chelsea simply nodded in confirmation.
"Well, if that's true, it's quite remarkable. Who would have thought such talent would emerge from this wretched village? Haha, I must have struck gold." The merchant chuckled, his rotund figure barely concealed by his robe.
"Cutting to the chase, girl, you'll be working for me from now on," he declared as though it were the most natural course of action.
"Huh?" Chelsea was left speechless, incredulous at the audacity of this shameless man.
"Of course, a peasant like you should feel honored to serve under me, right? As long as you remain obedient, I'll ensure you have enough to eat and live a comfortable life," he added, his tone dripping with entitlement.
Frustration welled up within Chelsea. She had initially hoped to strike a fair deal with this merchant, but now it was abundantly clear that corruption ran rampant in this world. Finding an honest merchant seemed as elusive as finding a needle in a haystack. She sighed, her exasperation evident.
Despite the darkness that pervaded this world, Chelsea's determination burned brighter than ever. She would not succumb to the whims of this despicable merchant. There had to be a way to navigate this treacherous path and reclaim her freedom.
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