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── ❝ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑬」
❝ 若い神々; .YOUNG GODS ❞
YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH A LOT WHEN IT COMES TO MEN. It's easier than one would think. You just have to give them something to stare at. Men are rather simple creatures under all those false complexities. They liked three things, the key to unlocking their hearts and their bank accounts. Power, Sex, and Money. In that order.
Karma used that to her advantage, especially as a foreign black/Indian woman. There were a lot of foreigner fetishes in Korea, men who liked "exotic" women, ignorant to all the offensive things they said to her in an attempt to get her to bed with him. It was disgusting, quite honestly, but she played to it to reach her goals.
It was easy to distract them. Their attention will be taken by the next shiniest thing. They want the nicest cars, suits, women. A woman who wears a tight skirt or spreads her legs isn't easy, she's smart. She knows that man will drain his bank for her to continue to simply stroke his ego under the false pretenses that he has her on a leash.
Karma knew this from experience. She's seen the stupidity of men first hand and knew that they cared more about a nice pair of tits than the 3 thousand dollar watch they were wearing.
Karma didn't make the rules, she simply abides by them.
That's why she wore her tightest dress, a slimming, blood-red dress that hugged her figure and showed off the slope of her waist and hips with her breast held in with only a tight, black harness top.
Her nails and lips were painted the exact same shade of red. She was a diamond, shining in this dimly lit club, swimming with men ready to jump on the nearest fresh meat they can find.
The Playground was an underground club known to be attended by the elite of the elite, men with morals more corrupt than the foundations of this city. They were in positions of power which meant they were just sitting on a pile of money. From their wrist watches down to the stacks of cash they obnoxiously carried around in their deep pockets to pay for hookers.
There were also the low lives, just out to get their rocks off for a little while, maybe obliterate what little consciousness they had left on narcotics.
Karma stations herself at the bar where the counter glows by the lights underneath the white stained glass. Her eyes scan methodically for a target, though it's more likely that the target will come find her himself. Her dress was tight and shorts with all her assets basically spilling out of the fabric.
So she orders herself a drink, a Gin cocktail, and waits patiently for a curious fish to swim his way towards the bait. Any one of them would have something of value on them, something she could sell and make money off of.
Across the way, a man sits patiently at the end of the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, waiting for something. He would only glance at Karma sparingly under the dimmed lights, waiting for a target to approach. She insisted that they get a target here tonight because it always paid well but it was risky coming back so soon after their last visit.
