The Price of Flesh

Chapter 5: Cerberus

What kind of fucking idiot would want to live in a timeloop?

Im Yeseul stepped off the carriage and shuddered thinking about time and its what ifs, clutching the straps of his small, leather bag. It was more akin to a pouch than a bag, but a bag nevertheless.

There was something sweetly intoxicating in the air, something heavy, layered, and thick that clung to his senses which made it hard to think at all. His thought's reduced to a lulled hum, everything around him feels like a fever dream.

He looked up. A massive archway with a worn surface stood guard at the entrance to the district and hung above it, the warm, unsettling light of their red glow falling on the cobblestone streets below.

The city of pleasure, Asphodel Meadows.

Piercing the heart of Illenia lies the entertainment district, known by many as the "Red Light District," it was a web of business owners and customers searching for a way to lose themselves to desire and escape the harsh reality of life, turning the place into a cesspool of mortal flesh and carnal lechery and wanton abandon.

Asphodel Meadows was a different world entirely. The streets were narrower and crowded, filled with people from all walks of life. The buildings lean in close, creating a network of close-knit buildings and alleyways with neon banners and signs flickered overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of reds, purples, and blues onto the cobblestone streets, while laughter and the faint strains of music spilled out from doorways and windows.

Im Yeseul kept his head down, the hood of his closk drawn low over his face as he navigated through the throngs of people, moving through the crowd like a ghost, unnoticed and hopefully unremarkable.

This part of the city was a world unto itself, where the rules that governed the rest of the game world and the actual law of the empire didn't exist. Here, everyone had a price, and nothing was too taboo. It was a place he had only visited once or twice in the game, more out of curiosity than necessity.

But now with the situation at hand, he found himself drawn to its chaotic energy.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Well, information about the man-eating witch. The district was known for its secrets, and if there was one place where he could find the witch or someone who knew of her, it would be here.

He passed by an open-air bar where patrons lounged on plush cushions, sipping from jewelled goblets as scantily clad dancers swayed to the rhythm of an unseen beat. Their eyes followed him, curious but uninterested—a potential client, nothing more. He ignored them.

He walked quickly, avoiding the larger streets where patrols might catch sight of him. He turned a corner as he was thinking and a thick cloud of opium suddenly hit him in the face. Im Yeseul sneezed, a loud and embarrassing achoo which had him comically reaching up to cover his mouth. He sneezed, looked up and glared at the pale outline of a person in front of him.

Laughter rang out even as the smoke dissipated. Im Yeseul watched as the bleary outline of a woman leaning against a nearby wall gradually became clearer. Her eyes were lined with red eyeliner, a smirk playing on her lips as she laughed at his reddened face. "You look lost, pretty boy," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "Looking for something or someone?"

He hesitated, studying her for a moment. She was beautiful in a dangerous way, her lips stained a hue of red that glowed in the dim lantern light, her features sharp and her gaze sharper. The bold crimson colour seemed to contradict the innocence of her muted pink hair, cascading onto bare shoulders. She was the kind of person who thrived in a place like this.

He didn't trust her, but he knew better than to ignore someone offering help in a district like this. Information was a currency here, as valuable as gold.