The Price of an Apology

“That black-hearted swindler!”

Every word that escaped their lips sounded genuine. Yet, when strung together, they formed a web of deceit, a lie crafted to fool even ghosts!

It must have been the clandestine aura of the black market itself that led him to believe such preposterous nonsense as a ‘secret auction’.

Ewan was furious, his rage so intense he yearned to return and burn the deceitful establishment to the ground.

Though his teeth gnashed in frustration, Ewan had no time to confront the swindling merchant now. He could only swallow his anger, for the moment.

Because the auction was about to begin.

The seductive beauty’s earlier urgency, he realized, was likely an attempt to draw in another wave of participants before the event began.

This made it abundantly clear just how… easy it was to attend this particular auction.

One didn’t even need to pay; alluring, curvaceous women would sway their hips and practically beg you to join.

How fortunate, how delightful!

It was absolutely exhilarating!

Of course, this blissful experience didn’t apply to him, who had been swindled by a black-hearted merchant and mistaken for a pervert trying to flirt with the ‘big sister’.

However, this surge of anger, swift as it came, departed just as quickly.

Not far from him, a similarly slender figure, also cloaked in a black robe, had just finished speaking with the leaflet-distributing beauty. Suddenly, they collapsed to the ground, wailing in despair.

It was as if they were an ultimate sucker who had toiled for ten years to save money for a wedding, only for their fiancée to not only cuckold them but also abscond with their savings.

“My money! The money I hadn’t even had a chance to warm yet! That damned swindler tricked me with a leaflet!”

Witnessing this scene, Ewan instantly felt a sense of relief.

At least he hadn’t lost anything. The person next to him, however, seemed to have genuinely paid.

Watching others lose money truly brought more joy than earning it himself.

Ewan’s mood immediately brightened. Humming a little tune, he stepped into the opulent building.

****

The interior of the building was even more lavish than Ewan had imagined. Crystal chandeliers, adorned with precious gems, cast a soft, ethereal light. The floors were so polished they reflected every shadow, and even the walls were covered in gold leaf.

“Strange.”

Ewan’s gaze swept over the nouveau riche decor. He wasn’t particularly awestruck, but rather, a little perplexed.

“This isn’t the usual style of the great nobles in Bellrand.”

There was no time for further thought.

The grand hall already contained a considerable crowd, and Ewan, newly arrived, seemed inconspicuous. Yet, he wasn’t ignored. A professional attendant approached him, asking respectfully, “Greetings, are you here for the secret auction?”

“Yes.”

“May I see your invitation, please?”

‘It’s just a crumpled leaflet, isn’t it? Why are they suddenly being so formal?’

Ewan’s mouth twitched as he handed over the crinkled paper.

The attendant feigned a thorough inspection, then casually tore the leaflet to shreds and tossed it into a rubbish bin.

“The invitation is correct. Please follow me.”

Following the attendant, Ewan passed through the magnificent hall and a dimly lit corridor, eventually arriving at a fork in the path.

To the left, he could hear a clamor of voices; to the right, profound silence still reigned.

“Would you prefer a regular seat, or a private booth?”

“What’s the difference between the two?”

“The booth offers a better view, allowing you to observe the auctioned items more clearly, and provides greater privacy,” the attendant stated courteously.

“And it also comes with specialized special services.”

“It feels… like there’s not much difference.”

For a warrior of Ewan’s caliber, a slight variation in viewing angle would hardly affect his observation of an item.

Nevertheless, Ewan ultimately opted for a private booth. It wasn’t out of curiosity for the so-called special services, but rather a belief that it was always better to be cautious when out and about. There was no need to scrimp on such a minor detail.

****

Inside the booth, Ewan reclined on a soft sofa, nearly as wide as a bed. Through the floor-to-ceiling window before him, he curiously surveyed the entire auction hall.

The booth’s vantage point was indeed superb, allowing him to take in the entire hall at a glance. Everyone else, meanwhile, was seated in rows, packed together like in a cinema.

According to the attendant, the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window was one-way, so there was no need to worry about being spied upon.

But Ewan couldn’t shake the feeling that this one-way glass served more purposes than just preventing prying eyes.

As he pondered this, Ewan suddenly heard a knock at the door.

“Hello, your reserved special service has arrived.”

“Please come in.”

The booth door gently pushed open. A woman, clad in a miniskirt, with heavy, seductive makeup that still couldn’t mask her beauty, entered with a hint of nervousness, swaying her slender waist.

Ewan turned his head towards the sound. When he saw the woman’s face, he couldn’t help but be taken aback.

“You are… the beauty who handed out the leaflets?”

“You—”

The seductive woman also froze.

Although Ewan was cloaked in a black robe, she recognized him by its style, his physique, and his voice.

‘It’s that pervert who deliberately tried to flirt!’

‘How is he here?’

‘How is he in a private booth?’

She knew that two hours in this booth cost a staggering five thousand Amys—an amount equivalent to her entire month’s income.

‘How could a pervert like him…’

At this moment, the heavy makeup on the seductive woman’s face couldn’t hide her pallor. Even if she were stupid, she had realized that Ewan’s identity was far from simple.

She had likely offended someone she shouldn’t have with her earlier remark of ‘pervert’.

However, Ewan didn’t pay much mind to it. He had long grown accustomed to being called a pervert, and her earlier comment hadn’t bothered him in the slightest.

“Come, peel a banana for me.”

Ewan beckoned to the woman, then slumped back onto the sofa.

After all, he had paid for this, so he intended to thoroughly enjoy this decadent, bourgeois indulgence.

The woman walked over timidly, but instead of reaching for the banana on the table, her hands reached for…

“Wait, what are you trying to do?”

Ewan clutched his crotch and rose in alarm. “I didn’t ask you to peel *that* banana! And are your services here really that good for such a low price? Five thousand for this kind of service?”

In the Upper City, a club with this kind of decor wouldn’t even let you through the door without a hundred thousand or eighty thousand.

That’s why Ewan hadn’t initially thought the beauty was there for *that*. Even if she was, he figured it would require extra payment!

“It wasn’t originally included.”

The woman bit her lip. “This is my apology.”

Though she hadn’t been here long, she had learned of the darkness within this place from some of her seniors.

For an ordinary person, protected by the boss, a vengeful remark might be nothing to fear. But for a guest of such distinguished status, if she failed to earn his forgiveness, her boss might personally turn her into a human flower vase and offer her to the guest to gain favor.

Profit above all else was the iron rule here.

“But there’s no need for this.”

Ewan sighed. Seeing her expression, he understood her current thoughts.

‘How utterly strange. Even though I’ve concealed my appearance, why does it feel like my NTR halo is still active? Why does everyone assume I’ll coerce young women into doing indescribable things?’

He certainly hadn’t uttered any bull-headed remarks like, ‘Miss, you wouldn’t want your boss to know you offended a guest, would you?’