The knock woke her. Saki sat up in bed. Her whole body ached. Last night's off-menu wounds hadn't healed yet. Her ribs creaked. A dry sensation clung to her inner thighs. "[cold]Saki. Madame's calling." Ordo's low voice from beyond the door. Saki stood. Cold stone under bare feet. She forced her aching legs to move. Opened the door. Ordo stood expressionless. A small bundle in his hand. Salve. "[gentle]Thank you." She took it. Ordo's fingers trembled, just barely. (*Still usable.*) Saki nodded coldly inside. Down the hallway. Hand on the wall. One step. Another. Bruises throbbed. Every movement of her legs revived the foreign sensation deep inside her body. A corner. A figure. Camila. Dark purple hair tied back carelessly. Cold silver eyes pierced Saki. The thin vertical scar on her left cheek stood out starkly in the pale morning light. "[cold]Summoned?" Saki nodded. Camila stepped closer. "[whispers]Don't. Vespa is going to—" "[cold]I decide." She cut her off. Her own voice, yet it sounded distant. Camila's eyes narrowed. She started to say something—and closed her mouth. Saki walked on. Camila's gaze stabbed into her back. The office door. She steadied her breathing. Deliberately let her collar fall open, just slightly. Collarbone visible. Knock. "[cold]Enter." She opened the door. Madame Vespa sat behind the desk. Black dress. Gaunt hand gripping a quill. Long jet-black hair loosely bound. Cold golden eyes pierced through Saki. The small jewel on her left ear glinted dully in the magelight. "[cold]You called for me." She made sure her voice didn't tremble. Vespa set the quill down. Tapped the desk. Tap. "[cold]A special guest will be arriving tonight." Saki erased her expression. Vespa's golden eyes crawled over Saki's entire body. Head to toe. A cold gaze, appraising. "[cold]I will ascertain whether you have truly changed. That is all." Saki didn't look away. Silence fell. Seconds. Vespa's lips twisted, faintly. "[cold]You are dismissed." Saki bowed her head. Closed the door. Vespa's gaze stabbed into her back. Deep in those golden eyes, a faint light—interest. Saki didn't notice. Out into the hallway. Camila was still there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "[cold]What did she say?" Her voice was low. Quiet. "[cold]Just that a special guest is coming tonight." She answered and kept walking. Camila started to say something. But Saki didn't look back. Footsteps fading away. Night. The underground special room. No windows. Magelight flickered red. Damp air. Mold and sweat and a cloying sweetness. The guards brought her. One man inside. Large. Easily over 190 centimeters. Bare-chested. Bulging muscles torn by countless blade scars. An old wound ran diagonally from his left hairline down above his brow. The cartilage of his right ear was crushed, drooping limply. Black tattoo at his neck—intertwined serpents. Cross. A former mercenary. A regular. "[laughing]Ho, a young one tonight." His gaze crawled over Saki. "[laughing]More scars make it more fun. Worth breaking." Saki said nothing. Cross grabbed the leather pouch on the table. Crimson Dream powder. He opened it. Twice the usual amount. "[cold]Inhale." Pressed to her nose and mouth. She inhaled. Heat raced through her. Her vision warped and spun. Her body flushed. Her skin grew unnaturally sensitive. Just the brush of fabric sent tremors through her like electric shocks. Cross tore her clothes off. Her breasts were exposed. His hands groped and kneaded. Pain and pleasure blurred together. Pushed down onto the bed. Cross's cock thrust inside. Hard. Hot. "[laughing]Tight. Good." His hips slammed into her. The sound of flesh hitting flesh. Saki's body rocked. "Ah... aah!" A voice escaped her. The pain nearly made her black out. But—Saki opened her eyes. She stared at Cross's face. (*Remember.*) The shape of the scar on his forehead. The crushed ear cartilage. The tattoo pattern at his neck—intertwined serpents. (*Remembering his face is the only resistance I have.*) Cross's fist flew. Impact on her cheek. The inside of her mouth split. The taste of blood. "[angry]Don't look away, whore." Saki didn't look away. Cross laughed. "[laughing]Good eyes. Women like that are worth breaking." The Crimson Dream powder made her body react on its own. Her cunt grew wet. Fluids dripped down her thighs. Every time Cross's cock thrust deep, a wet, squelching sound. It hurt. It was hot. It was disgusting. But— (*I'm not just someone to be hurt anymore.*) A twisted pride pulsed deep in her chest. Cross changed positions. From behind to missionary. He lifted Saki's legs and thrust even deeper. "[laughing]Come on, feel it more." The head struck her cervix. Pain and pleasure exploded. "Aaah...!" Her body convulsed. (*Don't lose.*) Saki kept burning Cross's face into her memory. A second ejaculation. Hot semen filled her vagina. The cloudy white fluid ran down her inner thighs and soaked into the sheets. By the time the third round began— Saki's consciousness cut out completely. Dawn. Saki woke on the cold stone floor of the basement. She couldn't get up. Her body wouldn't move. She stared at the stone patterns as if looking at the ceiling. Cracks. Stains. The smell of mold. (*Cross's face.*) She repeated it in her head. The forehead scar. The crushed ear. The serpent tattoo. (*Remembered.*) Eventually Saki dragged her aching body upright. Finished changing. Skin covered in bruises. The corner of her lip split, scabbed over. She opened the door. Ordo stood there. Come to tend to her, it seemed. He reached out an arm. "[cold]I'll walk on my own." She refused. Down the hallway. One step. Another. Her knees nearly buckled. Hand on the wall. She headed for Vespa's office. Knock. "[cold]Enter." She opened the door. Vespa sat behind the desk. She looked up from her papers. Golden eyes silently swept over Saki's battered body from top to bottom. Saki stood straight. "[cold]Send me the next client." Her voice didn't tremble. Vespa's fingers stopped. Dead still. Silence. Golden eyes narrowed. Staring into Saki's eyes. Probing. Vespa slowly lifted the corner of her mouth. A smile. It wasn't the face of a teacher whose student had passed a test. It was the face of a hunter reassessing the value of prey. "[cold]You may go." Saki bowed her head. Closed the door. The moment she stepped into the hallway, her knees gave out. Hand on the wall. She managed to stand. Further down the hallway. Camila stood there. Pale dawn light. Dark purple hair swaying faintly. Seeing Saki's face—Camila lost her words for just a moment. Battered body. Bruises. Wounds. The scab at the corner of her lip. And yet her eyes alone were eerily calm and clear. Camila started to say something—and closed her mouth. Instead she turned her back. Footsteps heading toward the washroom. She returned a moment later. A freshly wrung cloth in her hand. Wordlessly pressed it onto Saki. Saki took it and returned to her room without a word of thanks. Camila watched her back. Bit her lip. (*She doesn't realize she's being tested.*) The certainty weighed heavy in her chest. Around the same time. The office. Vespa wrote a short line on parchment. Elegant, cold handwriting. —The merchandise is ready. Just one line. She pressed the wax seal. Watched the wax harden. Looked out the window. The pale morning light whitened the cobblestones of the pleasure quarter. "[whispers]Now the real show begins." A voice no one heard. The letter was handed to a messenger. Addressed to Gallon. The black dress swayed, faintly. Saki's room. When she opened the door, Ordo stood there. He had come to deliver medicine. Saki sat on the bed in silence. Ordo rewrapped her bandages. Clumsy hands. But careful, so it wouldn't hurt. Saki observed his face. (*A man trained by Gallon—he still doesn't know.*) One of the few people she had managed to handle well. Saki leaned her body slightly. Let her shoulder rest against Ordo's arm. Deliberate contact. Ordo's hands stopped. His face reddened. He froze. Saki confirmed his reaction from the corner of her eye. (*Still usable.*) She nodded coldly inside. Ordo finished wrapping the bandages and left the room. Saki leaned against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. Stone stains. Cracks. She replayed her own actions. (*Something's wrong.*) As if someone was watching everything—a baseless, unpleasant premonition. She didn't know who yet. But— Saki closed her eyes. (*I won't stop.*) Deep in her chest, the word *control* blazed brighter than ever before.