ATPnovel Chapter 52 I haven't even asked for the information yet!
Chapter 52 I haven't even asked for the information yet!
Upper East Side of Pearl Harbour, pink neon lights.
The air was filled with the smell of cheap perfume and tobacco; it wasn't exactly pungent, but it was a bit unpleasant to smell.
The agent, like a weightless ghost, silently clung to the ventilation duct above the VIP suite on the top floor.
With the few points of agility he had just been allocated, he managed to lie dormant in this cramped space filled with rust and rat droppings for a full half hour.
The agent thought to himself: "This thing from Goose (the real agent) is really going to leak in the pipes. It would be hilarious if I passed out. If I fall into the ventilation duct, I'll definitely lose 500 credits."
He touched a small high-pressure spray bottle at his waist; it contained a high-concentration hallucinogenic anesthetic made from the poisonous spores of mushrooms extracted and purified with ether.
According to the goose, if you spray this stuff on your face, no matter how much you turn it around, you'll sleep like a dead pig for three hours.
The agent peered through the gap in the air vent, carefully observing the activity inside the private room.
There were no easy targets like the fat sheep he had originally planned to snatch here. Outside the private room, about four or five fully armed guards stood like iron towers, looking quite formidable.
Gan!
The success rate of forcibly breaking in and kidnapping is almost zero.
The situation here forced him to shift his gaze to the center of the private room...
The financial manager of Pearl Harbor, a fat man covered in flab and greasy to the point of being repulsive, was venting all the frustration he had suffered at Bolton's place during the day on the only woman in the room.
"Turn around! Face the wall! Don't look at me!"
The fat steward's gruff curses echoed in the room.
The agent, positioned on the ceiling, could see the woman's face perfectly through the half-length mirror on the side. It was Pearl, the financial manager's mistress and also the manager of this brothel, commonly known as the madam.
The face in the mirror was incredibly exquisite, the highlighting of her makeup was exhilarating, but her expression was lifeless.
She leaned against the wall like a lifeless piece of furniture, her face pressed against the cold wallpaper, letting the man behind her trample on her dignity with the most vulgar words.
So that's how it is. This fat pig is trying to regain his pathetic dignity in this way... The agent stroked his chin.
Suddenly, a brand new plan took shape in the agent's mind.
This time we can really have a Plan B!
"Didi didi"
The sudden sound of a communicator broke the oppressive atmosphere in the room.
The portly steward answered the communicator, his previously arrogant face instantly turning deathly pale. He nodded and bowed repeatedly, "Yes, yes! Lord Bolton, I'll bring the ledgers over to check them right away! Please calm down!"
After hanging up the call, the fat man didn't even have time to straighten his clothes. He grabbed his pants and rushed out of the private room, taking all the security guards with him.
The door slammed shut, and the room fell into a deathly silence.
Pearl didn't move. She didn't even bother to pull up her slipping robe. She just walked to the sofa like a zombie, lit a thin cigarette, and took a deep drag.
She'd gotten used to this kind of life; as long as she could survive here, that was enough. Respect? Love? Those things were a bit too much of a luxury.
The blinds on the ceiling were silently removed, and the agent landed lightly on the carpet like a falling leaf.
Pearl's pupils dilated, and even the cigarette between her fingers trembled.
"Shh..."
The agent did not draw his knife.
He was dressed in a well-tailored black bodysuit, the pure black of which seemed out of place in this murky place.
Instead of pressing him further, he walked up to Pearl and made a move that instantly shut her down.
The agent knelt on one knee.
This posture allowed him to maintain a perfectly aligned line of sight with Pearl, who was sitting on the sofa.
"A man who can't even look you in the eye is just a coward who fears your soul." The agent looked into her eyes and spoke in a compassionate and gentle tone, "He uses you as a spittoon to vent his fears, while you forget that you were originally a rose with thorns."
yue……
At this point, the agent felt like vomiting. How could such disgusting lines come out of his mouth at 37 degrees Celsius?
Forget it, I'll give it a try. The worst that can happen is I die.
However, things turned out much better than he had expected.
In a place like Pearl Harbor, where profit reigns supreme, all the men looked at her either as merchandise or as her back. Never before had anyone looked directly into her eyes with such a level gaze, respectful, and even aggressively gentle.
The agent took the cigarette from her fingertips, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and then cupped Pearl's stiff face in his hands.
"Look at me, look at me, Baby." The agent's voice was seductive. "From now on, don't look at that cold wall anymore. I want you to look into my eyes and remember that you are a living, breathing person."
This psychological technique, which might seem a bit sentimental in the real world, was like a nuclear bomb in the emotionally barren Pearl Harbor. Pearl's psychological defenses crumbled, and large tears fell onto the agent's hand.
The next second, like a drowning person grabbing onto the only piece of driftwood, she gripped the collar of the agent's uniform tightly. Her meticulously made-up face tilted back, filled with a desperate outpouring and an extremely morbid longing, and she kissed the agent's lips fiercely.
There were no tricks involved, only a tearing, biting demand.
Unlike the fat steward who roughly shoved her back against the cold wall, the agent allowed the woman to vent her emotions that had been suppressed for years. Then, he took the initiative, put his arm around her, and led her away from the wall that symbolized humiliation...
A faint taste of blood filled his mouth; it was the blood seeping from the cut on his lower lip that Pearl had made.
The shrewd agent had already pushed all his physical sensations to 100% on his way to the red-light district, determined to give the Pearl Harbor red-light district a critical experience.
The 100% pain synchronization allowed the agent to clearly feel the stinging pain of his cracked lip, but he did not push Pearl away.
He could truly feel the warmth of the woman in his arms, her slightly rough breathing from years of smoking, and the desire that almost made him feel as if he were being melted into her body.
……
The stray cats in the red-light district alleys howled for three whole hours, and the agent also developed a strong drowsiness in the game world.
He forced his leaden eyelids open and looked at Pearl, who was completely limp and had a dazed look in his arms, before he remembered the purpose of his trip.
However, his stamina bar was empty, and his body, having been drained of its last bit of energy, had no choice but to sever the connection to his consciousness.
"Hey, holy crap? Wait a minute! I haven't even asked for the information yet!"
The agent only had time to let out a desperate wail in his heart before the world before him was plunged into darkness.