Chapter 730
We are all willing
Leipzig, White Dove Opera House.
The overture, performed by the orchestra and awaiting the audience’s arrival, concluded.
“Gentlemen, ladies! Our performance today is about to begin!”
Before the grand curtain was drawn, a man with a white dove mask on his face, tall and slender, with a voice as clear and resonant as a radio host, stood center stage, spreading his arms upwards.
As if praising the sun wholeheartedly, or embracing the night sky projected from above the open-air theater.
Under the grand lights of Leipzig, the night sky was no longer pure black, but a chaotic hue between deep blue and deep purple.
The audience below was very polite—they did not cheer, but applauded enthusiastically.
The applause continued incessantly. Even in the VIP boxes above, a faint sound could still be heard.
The decoration of the White Dove Opera House resembled a peculiar wristwatch, lacking hands.
The main stage below was a bright crescent moon, and the audience occupied the dark space facing the moon.
On the second floor, there were twelve large rooms that protruded inwards, with rooms at the twelve, three, six, and nine o’clock positions being exceptionally large. In addition to these, there were forty-eight smaller spherical rooms.
If one were to look down from above, the audience would appear as scattered fragments of diamonds adorning the watch face; the sixty VIP rooms formed the rest of the dial.
At this moment, Honey Badger was in one of the VIP boxes upstairs.
The room she occupied was the luxurious VIP box at the six o’clock position. Since the main stage’s “crescent moon” spanned from ten o’clock to four o’clock, this was essentially one of the best viewing spots.
A soft, deep red carpet, as if soaked in blood, drew the eye.
However, the room was not as opulent as Honey Badger had imagined—instead, it had a rather mysterious and low-key dark color scheme.
Within the purplish-black room, reminiscent of the night sky, were large amethysts. A strange pink radiance seeped from these amethysts… falling on the body felt as gentle and ambiguous as a whispered sigh.
Honey Badger, dressed in a fitted butler’s uniform, stood at the forefront of the room holding a half-full wine glass.
This place was like a diving platform, the furthest point from the “shore.” Yet, she felt no instability or swaying.
And the entire front half of the wall was made almost entirely of a transparent glass. But according to the manager, this glass was one-way… one could see out from inside, but not see in from outside.
The voices of the host and the first opera singer could be clearly transmitted directly into the room; however, the audience’s voices were suppressed to the lowest possible level—if she were not an Extraordinary being with Path Adaptation, she would have been unable to detect any noise beyond the applause.
Near the wall were two knobs, which could adjust the one-way visibility of the glass and the audibility of the audience’s voices, respectively.
As Honey Badger surveyed the entire opera house with a look as cold as indifference, the deep red curtain was just about to be drawn.
Directly opposite the stage, and also behind the audience seating at the nine o’clock position, the hazy gray wall suddenly became clear.
Figures vaguely emerged from the glass wall—a tangle of bodies pressed against the wall, entwining ambiguously. The male figure reached out a hand towards the wall, seemingly turning a knob… and then the glass became even more transparent.
At this moment, the singer was performing the opening song of the overture, and the actions in that room also became more intense. The man pressed one person’s hands against the glass window from behind, while two other girls clung to him on either side like entwined vines. The actions of this scene seemed to possess a certain cinematic language, like another dazzling play.
From the singer’s perspective, she could clearly see all of this—but she showed no unusual reaction. Instead, she smiled sweetly in that direction and, with an elegant trill, skipped away like a small deer into the wings.
Following this, as if an invitation, a luxurious and chaotic prelude began—
Under Honey Badger’s gaze, the VIP boxes in the other three directions sequentially removed their visual obstructions. Different plays were staged one after another as if showing off, with sixty VIP rooms, veiled in a misty wall, lighting up and then dimming in turn.
From Honey Badger’s perspective, it all seemed absurd, like a fast-paced puppet show. Each room was like a window, and each window staged different dramas of joy and sorrow.
Some depicted mutual ecstatic joy, others the torment of blood slaves suffering, some displayed a spectacle of their own bondage, and still others showed guests proudly displaying their bodies… These guests included both men and women, and their blood slaves also varied in gender and attire. Almost every room would light up for a brief few seconds before dimming again, forming fleeting yet memorable afterimages.
Rather than watching the opera being performed on stage, the VIP guests seemed to prefer watching the “mime” performed amongst themselves.
And under this spectacle, the opera singers could not show the slightest panic or hesitation. They had to perform perfectly and not react as if they had seen anything—although their actions were wild to the point of madness, all of this was theoretically a secret.
Watching the rooms light up and dim, flickering like the signals of lighthouses.
—Some audience members noticed all of this, while others did not.
Honey Badger still held her red wine, standing expressionlessly at the forefront.
“…Sir.”
Of the two Bunny Girls brought in by “Mr. Ezio” earlier, the smaller one ventured forward bravely.
The other realized Honey Badger was in a bad mood, so she hid behind the smaller one.
A single call did not make Honey Badger turn her head, so she called out again, a little louder: “Mr. Ezio…”
Honey Badger turned her head, her indifferent gaze sweeping over the two girls.
At some point, they had cleaned themselves and changed into different clothes—although still Bunny Girl outfits, these did not cover any crucial areas.
They exuded the fragrance of fruit and a faint aroma of wine, their skin taking on a beautiful pinkish hue.
“Mr. Ezio, is this outfit okay? Do we need to change it?”
The girl whispered softly.
She looked outside with some worry and asked, “Do we… need to open the visibility here?”
“Is that usually required?”
Honey Badger glanced at her and asked back.
Her sharp gaze made the girl tremble involuntarily—she had never seen such a piercing look. It wasn’t like it wanted to cut the clothes off her, but rather to peel the skin off her body…
“This is probably… to confirm each other’s identity. The atmosphere in Leipzig is about sharing and openness; overly selfish people will be rejected by others.”
Seeing her companion remain silent, the older girl spoke softly, “So, it’s best to…”
“Understood.”
Honey Badger replied curtly.
Suddenly, she flung the wine glass she was tightly holding into the air, sending it smashing against the wall.
The glass wall surprisingly did not shatter. Or rather, with Honey Badger’s precise force, the glass shattered into pieces, but not a single shard injured the girl, nor did it damage the wall at all.
The blood-red wine splashed directly onto the glass, briefly clinging to it and forming a vibrant painting.
The sound of the shattering glass startled the two girls—the smaller one’s legs buckled, and she fell to the ground, while the larger one, pulled by her, also knelt on the ground.
Honey Badger simply adjusted her tie slightly, then directly turned on the visualization.
She reached out and brushed over the vibrant red wine on the wall, smearing it on the glass surface, drawing a bloody handprint, and then slowly clenched her fist.
She maintained her deathly cold gaze and expression, standing at the forefront with her chest puffed out and head held high. Behind her, the two girls knelt and sat, their eyes vacant.
The killing intent, devoid of any distracting thoughts, gave her solemn, middle-aged male persona a dangerous yet rational charm.
The evidence of this was that afterward—several of the female guests in the VIP boxes turned on the visualization on their room walls, boldly blowing kisses in this direction or displaying their bodies.
Honey Badger did not avert her gaze, but seriously observed each person who invited her—and saw a shining crimson radiance in the eyes of each such female guest.
After memorizing the faces of all these Children of the Moon, she finally nodded.
With a cold, expressionless face, she tilted her head slightly, licked the remaining red wine from her hand, signaling that she would one day drink their blood. Then, Honey Badger reached out and turned the visualization knob back to the off position.
“This is… the White Dove Opera House?”
Honey Badger murmured softly, “It’s indeed not suitable… for ‘Miss’ to come here. I must be responsible for her purity with my life.”
With the solemn, deep, killer-like magnetic voice of the middle-aged man, Honey Badger at this moment appeared like a stern butler.
“…Not necessarily.”
The older Bunny Girl reacted.
She said softly, “It’s not like there’s only that kind of service… We are ultimately customer-oriented. If that Miss were to come to play, it doesn’t have to be boys… It could be us serving her. Or there are options to simply satisfy the ‘desire for sustenance,’ even entertainment like playing cards or chess…”
“…And among us, besides those who understand these things, there are those who understand music, painting, and performance. Those opera singers occasionally work here part-time. Recently, Count Leipzig has also recruited a group of Extraordinary individuals who understand politics, economics, literature, and are knowledgeable in Alchemy, Demonology, and Necromancy… They can engage guests in overly serious conversations.”
…Count Leipzig is quite considerate. I wonder what he’s been through.
Honey Badger shook her head silently.
She knew that these people regarded her as a “parental butler.”
But in reality, Honey Badger was referring to Miss Alistair’s true identity.
The fiancé of Avalon’s “Iron-Blooded Queen” Isabel, and the current scandalous girlfriend of the Church’s acting Pope. She absolutely could not appear in such a chaotic and decadent place, as the danger and variables it posed were too great.
Honey Badger turned back and sat on the soft sofa.
She accepted the wine offered by the girls, ate a piece of fruit fed to her by one of them, and then asked, “How long have you been here?”
The older one stood behind her, giving a gentle massage, while the smaller one skillfully nestled into her embrace.
“This question is usually not asked,”
The younger girl said, “But you are a VIP, so it’s fine—I’ve been here for about half a year.”
“…Only half a year, and you’ve already adapted to this environment?”
“Because of the kisses from the Children of the Moon.”
The girl said softly, pulling open her collar and guiding Honey Badger’s hand in, revealing the burning “kiss marks” on her chest. They were not visible from the outside, as they were heavily obscured by clothing.
“Once kissed… the body can no longer live without sucking blood. This is a poison more potent than any other.”
Honey Badger narrowed her eyes slightly, her killing intent towards the Children of the Moon intensifying.
“Have you ever thought,” Honey Badger asked casually, “about what you’ll do… afterwards?”
“Afterwards…”
The girl paused, and her face lit up with hopeful radiance, “If possible, I wish to be adopted by a Child of the Moon.”
“…Just that?”
“For us, that’s already a faraway dream.”
The older girl replied softly, “We are all dead people… To be alive is already a great fortune.”
“Dead people? What do you mean?”
Honey Badger paused slightly and asked for clarification.
The older girl appeared to be in her mid-twenties or thirties; it was possible to commit a capital offense at that age.
And that girl… she didn’t look twenty years old. At her age, why had she become a “dead person”?
“Money.”
The little girl replied curtly, “Because there was no money left in the family—the family’s debts had reached a point where they could never be repaid. So we had to come here… Count Leipzig is a kind person; he gave our family a large sum of money as ’employee relocation expenses’.”
“…Human trafficking?”
Honey Badger murmured, “Isn’t this the slave trade of the Imperial era?”
“Not exactly, we are all willing.”
The older Bunny Girl said seriously, “At least here, we can maintain a safe and dignified life… This is a job for us. It’s better than death, not to mention being able to save our families.
“No one forced us down this path… And no matter how much debt we had, Count Leipzig would at least write it off for us. We were not sold here by our families; the Count doesn’t accept people like that. We are all willing… This is just a job with very high risk and difficulty returning home.”
…Is this the desire for devotion?
Honey Badger’s heart stirred, and she vaguely understood something.
Through such means, the blood slaves who applied to work here were, at the very least, “good people” with a desire for devotion…
And at this moment.
Honey Badger suddenly heard a scream.
She frowned slightly, picked up the girl in her arms, and walked directly to the front.
Chaos erupted in the audience—following the audience’s gaze, she quickly found the source of the disturbance.
It was one of the VIP boxes on the second floor, at the three o’clock position.
The visualization knob there was turned up to the maximum.
And shattered corpses were scattered all over the floor.
Blood flowed down the glass to the outside.
(End of this chapter)
