It has been seventeen years since the start of BlackMoon reigning over the werewolf realm. Those years were the fall of peace over the wolves as they lived their lives in strict, inhumane rules that could easily end a life in a single flick.
The increase of wolves becoming rogues had skyrocketed across the Packs, and the Alphas had passed a petition to the Palace regarding the problem. However, the current King Donovan turned a blind eye to it.
The Empire's poverty worsened under King Donovan's rule. Once-prosperous packs struggled to survive as resources dwindled, and the King continued to hoard wealth for himself and his loyalists.
In the heart of the city, workers spend their energy earning a decent income so they can afford a meal each day.
"Maxim, are you done arranging those books?" Fred, the bookstore owner, called out from his desk. He was old but still working for his family.
"Yes, I'll be there in a minute," Maxim replied as he put the last book on the shelf. He hurriedly ran toward Fred to find out why he was called. "Do you need something?"
Fred looked up from his glasses and slid a piece of envelope to Maxim. "That's your salary this month," he stated and went back to work.
"Thank you!" Maxim exclaimed delightfully, bowing 45 degrees before leaving. He went back to his desk and counted his income. "10,000 crones… How can I live with this?"
Maxim stared at the stack of money in his hand, the weight of his financial burden pressing down on him. His mind raced with calculations— rent, food, and a small amount set aside for emergencies. The sum seemed pitifully small in the face of his needs.
"This isn't enough for Mom's medicines," Maxim sighed deeply as he leaned back in his chair. He thought of stretching his meals and skipping breakfast a few times to get by.
Maxim worked as an assistant, but his income depended on the number of visitors— a fact that weighed heavily on him. However, reading had lost its appeal to most in the city, where people were consumed by the daily grind, leaving little time for books.
The few who did visit were often those who couldn't afford much. The wealthy, who could have earned more, rarely set foot in the public bookstore. They preferred the grandeur of the royal library, where the latest editions and rare volumes were housed, far beyond the reach of the common folk.
As a result, Maxim found himself in a precarious position, with his earnings shrinking as the days passed.
When the clock struck seven in the evening, Maxim quickly gathered his belongings, eager to leave his work behind.
"See you tomorrow, Fred!" Maxim called out, but Fred barely acknowledged him, too absorbed in his own thoughts or perhaps just too tired to respond.
Maxim didn't mind. He was used to it by now. As he went out, his footsteps blended into the crowd.
The familiar path led Maxim away from the bookstore's serenity into a very different part of the city— the Red-light district.
The Red-light district was notorious, but it was also a place of opportunity. There, the wealthy indulged in the pleasures of the night, and money flowed freely.
Maxim had no interest in what the district was known for, but he was drawn here for the same reason.
"Time to earn more money!" Maxim brushed back his thick, black hair as he prepared himself for his other job.
As Maxim walked deeper into the district, the streets became busier, filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and conversation.
Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an otherworldly glow on the faces of the passersby. Maxim kept his head down, avoiding eye contact, as he navigated through the crowd.
Finally, Maxim reached his destination. The sign of "The Velvet Rose" flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glimmer on the wet pavement.
"I never imagine myself working in this sh^tty place," Maxim stated, disappointed at himself. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the back door and stepped inside.
"You finally arrived!" Carlo, one of the club's workers, greeted Maxim. He was already dressed in tight latex clothes that barely covered his skin.
"I'm not late," Maxim grumbled, placing his bag on his locker.
"Right, but I have some great news!" Carlo exclaimed in excitement. His eyes twinkled at Maxim, who reacted coldly.
"You have a huge tip from a customer?" Maxim asked with a raised brow.
"Not that! But that's a possibility! I heard there's some big shot coming tonight and there's more of them!" Carlo informed while wiggling his body. His thoughts were filled with how much he would earn that night.
Maxim wasn't that surprised. He has been working in the club for five years already. "That's good then. I need additional crones in my pocket," he replied.
"Oh, does your other source of income that bad?" Carlo asked in curiosity. Although, he didn't know Maxim's other job.
"Kinda," Maxim replied flatly. He didn't want to share too much about his private life, considering what kind of work he was doing in the evening.
Maxim pulled out the required uniform for that day— a black vest, tight-fitting trousers, and a bow tie that felt more like a noose around his neck.
"That sucks. Well, I'll be going now. I need to work early to attract those rich bastards before you, blah!" Carlo stuck out his tongue before rushing out of the dressing room.
"That guy…" Maxim sighed, shaking his head. He sat on the chair and leaned back tiredly. His shift started around eleven in the evening, and he wanted to use the remaining time to eat and rest since he would be up all night after that.
Maxim noticed his reflection in the room's small mirror. The man staring back at him looked tired, with shadows under his eyes and lines that hadn't been there a year ago. He barely recognized himself.
"I'm so tired," Maxim whispered. He wanted to quit and live with his parents back in the Forbidden Forest, but the current lack of resources and the strict pack rules of the BlackMoon prevented them from sneaking inside without getting caught.
Maxim reached toward his neck, where his necklace rested inside his shirt.
"You're a big help, but at what costs," Maxim had found out that the necklace he owned could hide his scent, which allowed him to enter the pack and disguise himself as a pack member.
"Maxim!" a voice called out. It was Daniel, their manager.
Maxim sat up straight and glared at the man who interrupted his rest.
"You'll work early today. Prepare yourself in an hour, and we'll prepare the stage for you," Daniel informed, winking at Maxim flirtatiously before leaving.
Maxim nodded in understanding. He stood up and grabbed a bottle of water nearby. "I guess I'll be taking this tonight," he stated, looking at a couple of red pills in his palm.