"...this place gets weirder the more time I spend here," Logan mumbled, adjusting the collar of the tuxedo.
The black suit looked as if it had been custom made for him, fitting him perfectly. Besides, Tartarus was the last place he thought he would wear something like it.
Prison attire? Sure. But a tux? That was beyond strange. Even stranger thing was that Martha knew his measurements, something even he didn't after receiving his rewards.
"Well... you get used to it."
Logan turned to Izna walking out of their little base. Like him, she too wore an extravagant deep V-cut dress that showed off her curves. But Logan's attention was on the high slit that revealed her smooth thigh with every step she took.
"How do they even get these things inside the prison?"
Izna shrugged. Unlike Logan, she knew not to ask too many questions, as nobody likes that in Tartarus. Besides, Martha had a taste for theatrics and since she sent over the dresses for them, it would land them in trouble if they didn't wear them.
However, Logan was still trying to wrap his mind around the situation. They were supposed to be prisoners, but nothing about this place made sense. But the surprises weren't over yet.
As they stepped out of the broken subway station, a limo was waiting for them. The neon lights around made the glossy black shine.
"...you got to be kidding me," Logan muttered in disbelief.
"Well, you didn't expect us to walk to the meeting place, did you?" Izna smirked.
As if on cue, the door of the limo opened, and two women stepped out. The brunette wore a chauffeur uniform, while the blue-haired woman had a mercenary look, complete with a skintight suit, combat boots and a thigh holster for her pistol.
The chauffeur greeted them with a nod while the merc didn't say a word, just stepped to the side and opened the door for them. Logan did not have a good feeling about it, but it's not like he had a choice.
Just then, Izna slipped her hand around him and led Logan inside. The merc held the door open for them as they slid inside. Within moments, they hit the road, heading to meet the syndicate leader.
"Trendy clothes and limos. What else do you have here? Aerial vehicles?"
"Actually, I have seen a couple fly around."
"...of course, you did."
Logan leaned back in his seat, trying not to dwell too much on the strange prison. But even then, he couldn't help but wonder how different Tartarus was compared to what he had imagined.
Everything about this place was wrong, and yet… there he was, dressed in a tuxedo, on his way to meet someone who seemed to have more control over this insane world than he could imagine.
Izna, sensing his emotions, gently grabbed his hand. Logan looked at her to see her smiling at him reassuringly. But Logan knew better than to drop his guard around criminals.
***
"We're here," Rose, the merc, spoke for the first time.
A moment later, the car came to a halt, and the club's staff ushered them inside. It was another shock for Logan, even more so because it was his first time in a club, let alone one operating inside a prison.
But the shock faded quickly once he realized nearly everyone in there was eyeing him. Their gazes weren't on him because he was new there, but because everyone knew exactly who he was.
They had seen his trial and his performance following that and knew he was a potential threat to everyone but the syndicate he had joined.
Despite their knowledge regarding the situation, they couldn't have been more wrong. After all, the guy they saw slaughtering zombies and the one before them were different personas of one man.
"Come on, let's go..." Izna hurried Logan out of there before he got any more attention.
"Madam Widow will be with you shortly," Rose replied, before leaving the two alone in Martha's office.
"Madam Widow? Is that the lady's alias?"
"Yes. Only those owning a syndicate may give themselves an alias," Izna commented. "For people like us, we're known by our prison numbers. So, you better introduce yourself that way. If you use your real name, it'll get us into trouble."
"Good to know the prison has some stereotypes intact," Logan sarcastically replied.
Izna was about to warn him about his tone when the doors slid open and Martha entered the room, along with Rose and a couple of other guards.
Surprisingly, Logan was the only man in the room, as it seemed Martha preferred hiring females to work for her.
But it confused him even more. If Martha was only interested in hiring females, then what was he doing there? Did she want him to cross-dress while working for her?
Logan directed his gaze towards Martha, or Madam Widow, as she called herself. Although a glittering mask covered the upper half of her face, he noticed she was too young to be a widow, making him think her name was a gimmick.
Martha smiled, noticing Logan's gaze, and moved to give him a better look at her skin-tight dress before she took a seat crossing her long legs. As she sat, the dress parted at the thigh, revealing a glimpse of smooth, pale skin.
"206, it's good to see you again," she spoke in a velvety voice, thanks to her vocal implants.
"Likewise, madam," Izna smiled.
A second later, Martha's eyes, or at least Logan assumed they were her eyes behind the mask, shifted on him as she continued, "And this must be our new guest. My apologies, I couldn't send others to welcome you properly. A few things... kept us occupied."
Logan nodded stiffly, unsure of what to say. Despite the comfortable atmosphere, he couldn't help but freeze. After all, it was his first time meeting someone of Martha's status, and he didn't want to offend her.
"So, 208, how are you finding Tartarus so far?"
"It's… different. Not what I expected it to be," Logan hesitated, searching for the right words to not offend her.
But he also didn't want to come off as a pushover, so he held her gaze, something that made Martha chuckle.
"You can relax 208," she said. "I don't want my guests to feel uncomfortable in my presence."
There was something in her tone that made Logan's skin crawl. It felt like she was inside his head, reading him like an open book. He glanced at Izna, who gave him a reassuring nod, though he could see her tensed shoulders.
"Shall we get to business, then?" Martha suggested, leaning forward as two of her guards placed two cases before them. "There's much to discuss, specifically, about your roles going forward."