Daziel double-checked his surroundings near the crate, a final sweep to ensure nothing had been overlooked. Satisfied, he turned and exited the warehouse, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
He followed the original plan, walking to a nearby street corner and settling into a patient wait.
As night deepened its hues, a knot of anxiety tightened in Daziel's stomach.
He kept a subtle watch on the warehouse, his gaze flicking back repeatedly, until finally, a squad of Mara-Struck Soldiers marched into view. On sharp commands, the warehouse door was thrown open, and they disappeared inside.
Moments later, they re-emerged, burdened with the boxes, and marched off in the direction of the embroidery workshop...
Daziel knew his moment was drawing near, his turn to step into the shadows.
...
Another hour crawled by. Daziel judged the time was right. He drew a deep breath, wrestling down the tremor of nerves in his chest, and set off towards Du's Tea House with a purposeful stride.
Even under the cloak of night, the Golden Pavilion's night market thrummed with a muted energy, a dim echo of its daytime bustle. The embroidery workshop's signboard, however, cast a lonely, ambiguous orange glow, its half-closed door a stark island of shadow amidst the shuttered storefronts around it.
As Daziel approached the entrance, his attention snagged on something new: professional scanning equipment. This hadn't been present during the day. Now, every guest entering and exiting would be scrutinized, any devices on their person flagged.
His initial plan to discreetly capture the interior with a miniature camera evaporated instantly. This sophisticated setup was a hard wall against such tactics.
Daziel pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over Yukong's contact, but no reply met his desperate message.
A grim seriousness settled over his features.
He switched contacts and typed a brief, urgent message to Yanqing, requesting a squad of trustworthy Cloud Knights to discreetly surround the Golden Pavilion.
He knew summoning the Cloud Knights directly, so brazenly, risked alerting the Golden Pavilion Chamber of Commerce through their network of informants.
And Yukong had been adamant about keeping other Commissions out of this. Sushang's suggestion of external help had already been firmly rejected.
But those concerns felt distant now, luxuries he could no longer afford. This festering place needed to be cleansed.
Seemingly swayed by some unseen hand, some whispered suggestion, Yanqing, oblivious to his encounter with Kafka that night, didn't question Daziel's identity.
He absorbed Daziel's urgent information with immediate gravity, promising to dispatch Cloud Knights at once.
Daziel subtly palmed the miniature camera, his fingers nimble. Before reaching the scanning equipment, he flicked his wrist, sending the tiny device arcing into the roadside bushes. As he passed through the scanner, just as he'd expected, his phone was confiscated, the only device left on his person.
...
"Well now, sir, you're a new face. First time at our embroidery workshop? Which discerning informant led you to us?"
The air, thick with cloying perfume, rushed to greet him. A woman, still radiating a faded glamour beneath her years, swayed into view, cheongsam clinging to her curves.
Xianzhou's extended lifespans blurred the lines of age. Though addressed as 'madam,' she was remarkably youthful, a strikingly beautiful Foxian.
A flicker of hope ignited within Daziel. At least this venture hadn't been entirely in vain.
He masked his internal thoughts, meeting her gaze with a practiced smile. "Boss Du from Du's Tea House sent me. Heard whispers of the exceptional talent housed here. Had to see for myself."
The Foxian madam's eyes sharpened with shrewd appraisal as she sized him up, a practiced smile blooming. "Sir, you have impeccable taste! The ladies of our embroidery workshop are unmatched in the Golden Pavilion!"
She gestured him deeper inside, her voice a silken thread leading him along. "You see, these are our premier ladies, each meticulously selected and… 'cultivated'."
Daziel's gaze swept across the transformed hall. Day and night had sculpted two entirely different spaces.
Gone were the display stands, the delicate showcases of embroidery artistry. They had vanished, replaced by a sprawling dance floor dominating the room.
A dozen or so embroiderers, clad in whisper-thin gauzes, moved with a practiced grace across the polished floor.
Their dances were fluid, their figures undeniably alluring, every sway and gesture designed to exude a captivating sensuality.
Yet, beneath the veneer of performance, something felt fundamentally wrong to Daziel. A disquieting dissonance.
His eyes snagged on the details he'd missed in the daylight – the scars. Each dancer bore them, to varying degrees, etched onto their skin like unwanted ornaments.
Whip marks, bruises blooming like dark flowers, abrasions that whispered of cruel instruments.
These marred surfaces, jarring against the forced smiles and seductive movements, told a story the performance desperately tried to conceal.
Daziel's heart plummeted. These weren't accidental scrapes; this was something far darker.
He fought down the rising tide of anger, his voice casual. "Madam, these ladies are indeed… skilled. But I sense something… missing."
The Foxian madam's smile widened, predatory. "Ah, sir, you possess a discerning eye! These are indeed the finest, carefully… 'cultivated' by our workshop, of course. But if you crave something… more… special…"
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "We have… 'new arrivals' here, you see. Guaranteed to pique your interest. Fresh off the boat, so to speak, and not yet… 'refined'. Untamed, shall we say! But the… flavor… tsk tsk, simply unforgettable!"
A calculated pause. "Though perhaps… a touch dangerous. They might… accidentally… discomfort our esteemed guests."
Daziel's lip curled in a silent sneer, but his face adopted a mask of feigned eagerness. "Untamed, you say? Excellent! I have a taste for the wild! But, madam, let's talk price…"
The Foxian madam held up a single, slender finger, waving it like a tempting lure. "This number."
Daziel pulled a thick wad of credits from his pocket, fanning them out in a casual display. "Money is… hardly a concern. Quality, now, that's paramount. As long as the goods are genuine, I'm not one to be… frugal."
The Foxian madam's eyes widened, fixated on the hefty stack of credits. With a practiced move, she snatched the bills, her smile now radiating pure greed. "Sir, you are a man of directness! Admirable! Rest assured, the offerings of our embroidery workshop will exceed your every expectation!"
She steered Daziel deeper into the establishment, guiding him down a narrow flight of stairs, into a dimly lit corridor. Finally, they reached a heavy iron door.
"Just a moment, sir. Let me unlock this for you."
The Foxian madam produced a jangling set of keys from her waist, selecting one and working it into the lock.
"Creak—"
The iron door groaned open, releasing a gust of cold, damp air that tasted of decay and despair.
Daziel followed her into the room. It was a basement, vast and cavernous, but shrouded in shadow. Only a handful of sputtering oil lamps fought back the encroaching darkness, casting flickering, inadequate pools of light.
The stench was immediate and nauseating – a cloying miasma of stale blood, sweat, and damp mildew that clawed at the back of his throat.
In the basement's dim flicker, the shadows danced and elongated, distorting the figures of the women huddled in the corner, amplifying the stark horror of the scars that marred their flesh.
Daziel's gaze swept the bleak space. Seven or eight women huddled together, their eyes vacant, hollowed by fear and despair.
Compared to the dancers upstairs, their smiles forced and brittle, these women were broken. Their scars were deeper, more brutal, like the discarded toys of some cruel beast, played with until interest waned, now waiting for an inevitable, gruesome end.
A leaden weight settled in Daziel's stomach. Foreboding, cold and sharp, pierced him to the core.
Where is Master Yukong?
If Yukong witnessed this, surely she would have unleashed her fury by now. Taken action.
Why is this place still operating so brazenly, untouched?
He tamped down the rising panic, his eyes scanning, searching.
Then, he froze. His gaze locked onto a familiar figure huddled amongst the others – the off-worlder woman, the one he'd encountered before.
During the day, she'd been a part of the embroidery workshop's façade, another face in the performance.
Now, her head was bowed, her once vibrant face gaunt and drawn, her body trembling almost imperceptibly, a desperate attempt to shrink into the shadows.
Daziel's heart lurched. He pointed a finger towards the off-worlder woman, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I'll take her."
The Foxian madam's face instantly transformed, blooming into a triumphant, chrysanthemum-like smile. "Oh, sir, exquisite choice! This one… she's truly exceptional. Top-tier quality, I assure you. You won't be disappointed!"
She turned, stalking towards the off-worlder woman, her fingers digging into her waist in a sharp, painful pinch. She hissed a venomous whisper, laced with threat. "Serve this gentleman well! Displease him, and you'll regret it."
The off-worlder woman flinched, a silent whimper escaping her lips. Her trembling intensified. Head bowed, she offered no resistance, no sound.
Daziel watched the scene unfold, a cold fury hardening his gaze. His fists clenched, knuckles cracking with the force of his suppressed rage.
Lost in her triumph, the Foxian madam remained oblivious to the storm brewing within Daziel. She ushered him back upstairs, her tone now obsequious. "Sir, please, let's ascend! We have… exquisitely appointed rooms, especially designed for your comfort and… privacy."
Retracing their path, they climbed back to the ground floor, navigating a labyrinth of corridors, and finally arrived at a lavishly decorated room.
A faint, cloying scent of incense hung heavy in the air. A vast bed dominated the space, draped in shimmering, suggestive silk.
"Sir, please, make yourself comfortable. I will fetch… your companion." The Foxian madam simpered, then retreated, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
Daziel surveyed the room, his eyes sharp, probing for any hint of surveillance. Satisfied that he was alone, unobserved, he finally exhaled, a tense breath escaping his lungs.
Moments later, a soft knock, then the door yielded, creaking open. The off-worlder woman entered, head still bowed, shuffling steps hesitant. She was now draped in a flimsy gauze dress, her form barely concealed, an unwilling offering of forced allure.
Daziel moved towards her, his voice low, gentle. "Don't be afraid. I'm here to help you."
The sound of his voice seemed to penetrate the fog of despair. The off-worlder woman's head snapped up, a flicker of recognition, of dawning hope, igniting in her glazed eyes.
Daziel removed his sunglasses, revealing his undisguised face.
"It's… you!"
Recognition flared, then relief, then an almost desperate joy. The off-worlder woman's face crumpled with emotion, as if she had grasped a lifeline in a drowning sea.
Daziel nodded, a silent reassurance. "Don't worry. I'll get you out of here. I won't let them hurt you."
He paused, his voice softening further. "They sold you into this, as a slave, didn't they?"
The off-worlder woman nodded rapidly, tears now welling and overflowing, tracing tracks down her cheeks. "Those… bastards! I thought the Corporation was the absolute bottom of the barrel when it came to disgusting capitalists, but… I never imagined…"
Daziel offered a comforting murmur. "It's over now. I'll make them pay. But first… I need to ask you something. Have you seen any new crates moved in today? I have a colleague… she infiltrated this place, and I haven't been able to find her…"
The off-worlder woman strained to recall, her brow furrowed in concentration, then shook her head slowly. "No… I haven't seen any outsiders brought in… but… if she's not in the first basement… then maybe… she's in the second basement level."
"Second basement level?" Daziel frowned, his gaze sharpening.
"Yes," she confirmed, her voice hushed. "That's where the management… the higher-ups of the Embroidered Spring House… they're located there. Heavily guarded. I overheard them saying some… 'special merchandise' is kept down there too. Different from us. They're for… auctions, they said."
Daziel pressed, urgency tightening his voice. "Do you know how to get to this second basement?"
The off-worlder woman shook her head again. "The door… to the second level… it's always locked. Need a special key. No way to open it otherwise. But… wait…"
She pointed upwards, towards the ventilation duct grille set high in the ceiling. "According to what I've seen… all the rooms in the basement… they share a common ventilation system. If you could climb into that… you might be able to reach the second basement level through the ducts."
Daziel followed her gesture, his eyes assessing the ventilation duct entrance, calculating angles, distances. He wasn't as nimble as Yukong, but he could still manage a decent jump, grab the vent grille.
He took a deep, steadying breath. "Wait here. Don't open the door for anyone. If anyone asks… tell them… tell them I'm resting. Don't want to be disturbed. If you need to… maybe moan a little. To… sell the story."
A blush touched the off-worlder woman's pale cheeks, but she nodded, her resolve firm. "Yes! I understand. I will."
Daziel wasted no more time. He backed a few steps, then launched himself upwards in a sudden, powerful jump, his fingers closing around the vent grille with a solid grip.
He hauled himself up, wrenching at the metal until the grille buckled and tore free. With a fluid motion, he flipped over and disappeared into the shadowed mouth of the ventilation duct.
The ventilation duct was a claustrophobic tunnel of darkness, barely wider than his shoulders, thick with the suffocating reek of stale air and grime.
Daziel crawled forward, hunched and silent, pressing onward. He had no idea how Yukong fared, but the urgency was a relentless drumbeat urging him forward. He had to find her.
He repeated the jump again, testing his limits, his muscles coiling and uncoiling, propelling him upward. Three, four meters – not Yukong's legendary leaps, but enough. More than enough.
The ventilation duct closed in around him, a suffocating darkness swallowing him whole. The air hung heavy, thick with the metallic tang of rust and the cloying dust of forgotten ages.
Daziel pressed forward, each movement measured and cautious, guided only by the faint, filtered light seeping through unseen cracks in the metal.
The duct snaked and twisted, a labyrinth of cold metal. An unsettling "creak… creak…" echoed around him, the sound of metal groaning against metal, amplified in the confined space, a jarring counterpoint to the oppressive silence.
His heartbeat hammered against his ribs, mirroring the unsettling creaks. He was plunging into the unknown, blind, uncertain, but driven by a relentless resolve.
Yukong. The image of her flashed in his mind - the Foxian woman, her legs a startling flash of white against the shadowed backdrop of his memory. Danger clung to her, heavy and suffocating.
He couldn't stomach the thought of her falling into the clutches of these monsters. A surge of protective rage, of fierce responsibility, burned through him, pushing back the rising tide of fear.
Even in this decaying, morally compromised 18+ world… the core of Honkai: Star Rail had to stand for something. It couldn't be bottomless depravity.
It had to be justice. Redemption.
That was the belief that anchored Daziel, his unwavering north star.
"Master Yukong… please be alright. Hold on. I'm coming for you."
The silent vow echoed in the narrow confines of the ventilation duct, a whispered promise against the encroaching darkness.
_____
THE >>>DIRECTOR<<<< IS GOING CRAZYYYY! 🤪
CRAZY DEAL ALERT! 🚨 This week only: For every 5! >FIVE!< new reviews... ONE EXTRA CHAPTER will be released! Yes! EXTRAAA! 🎉
(See? I'm honestly such a great director, aren't I? 😉)
Don't miss out! Don't miss out!
💖✨ patreon.com/Walnutchan ✨💖 <- 40 advanced chapters!