Round 21: Men and Women of the Bathhouse Owner’s Household

After advancing a distance into Ribcage City, passing through the labyrinth of walls covered in knife-vines and black-armored patrols, the foreign travelers might be able to relax their nerves, which had been tense since entering the city.

Along a busy, well-maintained street, several not-so-tall but imposing buildings stood in close proximity to each other. Thin streams of steam rose from metal pipes on the rooftops, rising only a short distance before merging into the dark red sky. The buildings were adorned with various patterns, and ambiguous black statues, of unclear shape or meaning, dotted among them—likely part of an artistic style pleasing only to the people of Ribcage City. Near each statue, several idle men and women sat or stood, scanning the street back and forth like insects waiting for food, hoping to find something tasty in the crowded crowd.

“There’s a small section of volcanic remains from Torch City underground here,” Jacob said as he led them along the cobblestone path. Forty-Seven could sense heat emanating from deep within the ground. “So these houses we see now are bathhouses built on volcanic hot springs. They all belong to Prex or other important figures, operate legally, and are protected…”

“Yes, that’s why there are so few soldiers on this street.”

Kairo stepped aside to avoid a drunk man who didn’t seem very intoxicated. The guy shivered violently and walked away quickly, hands tucked in his pockets.

The girl didn’t understand Moriel’s logic: “How is that? Aren’t soldiers meant to protect us?”

“It depends on whose soldiers they are, you fool,” Forty-Seven said again, lecturing her proudly. “Which of those soldiers from Rain City ever took care of your little shop?”

“But…”

“Without a people’s army, there’s nothing for the people. If the weapons are in someone else’s hands, do you want them far away or close?”

“Enough, stop with your weird theories. We’ve arrived.” Moriel followed Jacob to a large house that looked like a sealed jar. The house had only a row of tall, narrow attic windows at the top—so narrow that even a cat would have trouble getting through. The iron door at the front was tightly shut, seemingly not meant for anyone to enter, only for visitors to admire the intricate carvings on it. Two men dressed like bodyguards sat in front of the door, looking rough both in appearance and demeanor. They didn’t stand up when Forty-Seven and the others approached—only adjusted their posture slightly, placing their hands where they could easily draw their weapons.

“Get away!” one man said, revealing a mouth full of black and yellow rotten teeth, further shattering Kairo’s understanding of how things worked.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Jacob said wisely, staying outside the men’s reach and bowing slightly. “We’re not here unannounced… nor are we strangers.”

After taking the documents and the “green coins” from Jacob (or rather, he only took the copper coins, tossing the documents back after a quick glance at them), the man led them around the main entrance into a side alley next to the large building, his expression indifferent.
In any place, at any time, tall buildings are merely a cover over all things dark and murky. The walls and floors were equally black, covered in filthy grime that obscured their true color, and no one wanted to think about what else might be mixed in there. Garbage was scattered everywhere, sewage flowed abundantly, and the conditions in terms of cleanliness and maintenance were far worse than on the main streets. Holes and cracks were everywhere, giving off a gloomy atmosphere, just like the missing teeth mentioned by the guide. Suspicious glances often slipped out from behind the walls, coldly scanning the passersby—surely those holes did not lead to any interior rooms.
After turning a corner, a woman in tight clothing, with a low neckline and stockings, stood beneath a metal pipe that was hissing with steam. Despite having applied a whole box of cheap makeup to her face, it couldn’t hide her tired look, the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, and the bruises on her chin. Moreover, due to the humidity and heat, her makeup had begun to blur.
Neither the woman nor the man showed any expression; they exchanged a brief glance before quickly looking away. Human eyes convey many meanings, and that short glance already contained a series of unspoken messages such as “Should we act?” “No.” “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” “Can’t you see it’s dangerous?”
The travelers were eventually led into a narrow alley too small for two people to walk side by side. There were many such alleys, each leading to the tightly enclosed outer layers of the city, luring people in but rarely letting them out.
There were large wet stains on the walls. The soaked garbage underfoot was wet and sticky, filling the entire alley with the stench of rotting corpses. Jacob’s robe was covered in mud, its original color barely recognizable. Morriel had to cast a protective spell over himself and Kayel, as if walking through the swamps of the Rain City. Forty-Seven, as usual, acted as the rear guard; he wasn’t afraid of dirt at all and casually traced the walls as they walked—suddenly, a wave of scalding steam burst out from cracks in the wall covered in grime, accompanied by a terrifying, long scream.
The guide turned around in shock, meeting Forty-Seven’s eerie red eyes. “Stop playing tricks, kid. I’m losing patience,” those eyes seemed to say.
Fortunately, their destination was at the end of the alley. The source of the stench also seemed to be there—the gutter in the corner was blocked by something, and thick, bubbling sewage spilled out from the drain, covering the last short distance to the iron door.
“Hmph, a comfortable place indeed,” Morriel said with disgust.
“It’s better than being thrown into a prison cart and taken to the execution ground. That’s what happens when you don’t follow the rules, you fool,” the man said, striding forward threateningly, splashing mud everywhere, while raising his hand. The finger tiger on it clanged against the rusty metal, producing dull sounds.

The door opened. Apart from their different appearances, the person who opened the door and the guide were virtually identical in build—undoubtedly the result of being mercilessly forged on the crude, deformed giant anvil of Ribcage City, forcing them either to shatter or to numbly adapt.
Still no conversation; the guests were led inside in a gloomy, almost stagnant atmosphere.
But after climbing a few stairs and turning a corner, everything changed. Warm, misty steam wafted out from behind the dense curtains in the hall, carrying the scent of moisture mixed with sulfur and exotic spices. Laughter and the silhouettes of half-naked men and women appeared faintly as the curtains moved, with one couple even lying nearby in the hot spring pool as if no one else was around, their affectionate behavior suggesting they might soon engage in intercourse.
“You must be… oh, let me guess—Jacob, Mr. Jacob!” A tall man with a green face and sharp features, wearing only a bath towel around his waist, hurried down the passage between the pools. His tattoos writhed and shifted as his muscles moved, though his slightly protruding belly ruined his otherwise impressive, champion-like physique.
“I’m glad you chose us again, Mr. Jacob,” the tall man said, his fierce appearance contrasting with his kinder demeanor compared to his subordinates. “The best choice! These are… oh, I’m Douglas, the owner of this ‘Snowman’ steam bath. Our slogan is: ‘Come, melt me!’ Our guests can enjoy the best here…”
“Enough,” Moriel interrupted Douglas’s self-praise with a wave of her hand. “Please arrange two rooms for us—no damp environments, no enclosed pools, no addicts acting shamelessly in public, and no—”
She glanced around, her beautiful brown eyes gleaming. “No excessive detection magic either.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Douglas said, his green-faced muscles twitching slightly. “It’s just some minor security measures, completely harmless. You can trust us, beautiful lady. Ribcage City is a law-abiding place…”
Moriel ignored his explanation and turned to Jacob.
“Mr. Merchant. I don’t know what you think, but we made this choice because we had no other options. If there was even the slightest chance, I wouldn’t spend the night in a bathhouse. Will you help us find a portal to Seal City as soon as possible?”
“Of course, I’ll do my best,” Jacob replied eagerly.
“Then go ahead,” Moriel nodded.
“Do you really not plan to relax a bit, take a Turkish bath?” Upon entering what Douglas called a “luxury suite,” Moriel rubbed her feet against the marble floor. A whole wall ahead also had hot spring water flowing down, then spreading through intricately carved indoor channels, surrounding the jade bed in the center of the room. Or rather, the stone bed was built within the pool—without any bedding, yet not flat, but shaped with subtle contours that clearly matched the natural curves of a person lying on it.

“Damn it, I told you not to sleep in the bathhouse.” Morill waved his hand, seemingly wanting to argue with Douglas again, but quickly gave up the idea. “Never mind. I guess he can’t even provide a slightly normal room. Kaylo and I will go rest next door… What about you?”
“I?” Siqi showed off his steel teeth. “I’m going to take a bath first.”
“A bath?” Kaylo was already surprised enough today. “You’ll rust!”
Siqi’s face shattered with a loud crack. Like a blooming flower, layers of blades and hooks emerged from his head, flailing around before retracting and forming an identical iron face at the center of the blades. “Don’t underestimate me. Give me enough information, and I can turn into a ‘Hurricane’ for you to see.”
“Alright,” Morill agreed reluctantly, his words lacking conviction even to himself. “Don’t cause trouble. We already have enough problems.”
In the steamy public bathhouse, naked statues holding kettles were barely visible, just like the chest hair of the men soaking in the hot springs.
“Hey, kid, are you planning to get in like that?” The man with chest hair, who dominated half of the bathhouse, wrapped an arm around a young woman—clearly of lower-class descent. She was playing with his chest hair while giggling, stealing glances at Siqi and occasionally licking her lips with her forked tongue. The woman on the right was much more dignified, even though she was almost naked. Her tall stature, golden eyes, and fair skin all indicated her noble ancestry.
“If you can hide a knife under your ass, why can’t I just get in?” Siqi stepped into the pool. “The temperature is quite fine.”
“I’ve never seen you before, kid.” The man with chest hair’s expression turned fierce. A few others in the pool also put their hands in the water. “But I’ll give you some advice. To survive in Bone Cage City, just having iron skin isn’t enough.”
“Why do you think I only have iron skin?” Siqi lay comfortably in the water. “You should be grateful the hot water is making me in a good mood. Now get out. This pool is mine.”
“You bastard…” The two prostitutes quickly fled from the enraged man. As the water rippled, the man with chest hair went from lying down to crouching, ready to leap at Siqi like a frog and slash his neck—though it would just be that. An unlikely but obvious fact made him give up the idea of teaching the other man a lesson: the water around Siqi was boiling.
“Ah—damn!” The men rushed out of the pool in panic, as the temperature had instantly become unbearably hot.
Siqi ignored the people around him who stared at him in fear and casually grabbed a towel to cover his face.
“This is the perfect temperature now.”
Douglas closed the peephole and habitually patted his stomach.
“It seems pretty troublesome.”

“Stop sending your men to provoke him—I told you!” Jacob lowered his voice. Given his height, he felt quite constrained in the narrow passage: “These guys aren’t easy to deal with! Alright, do me a favor, Douglas, as old friends. I’ll take them to Seal City, and then it’s none of my business anymore. Payment isn’t an issue; they’re generous. Help me find a way, and I won’t neglect you…”
“Oh, old friend, the plan has changed,” Douglas said.
“Plan? What plan?” Jacob’s expression tightened.
“Friends shouldn’t hide things from each other,” Douglas said with a sly smile, an expression that looked rather ferocious in the dim corridor. “Come, let’s go outside and talk.”
In Douglas’s office, which resembled a water curtain cave, two other men were waiting for them.
“You really manage to get familiar with just about anyone, Mr. Jacob.” The man with horns and scars on his forehead sat on the sofa, shaving himself with a dagger inlaid with emeralds. “Have you won that bitch’s trust?”
“Gel?” Jacob frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Gel drew the dagger in a half-circle through the air, then snapped it back into its scabbard. “Yes, for you, it would be perfect if scum like me, who stains your clean record, died in that chaos.”
Jacob stared at him fearlessly, exuding an air of authority. “No one is innocent when traveling between realms, but one must know one’s place. Since you survived the disaster at the Giths’ fortress as well, can you at least have some clarity about the situation?”
“We hired you, not to give advice, Mr. Jacob.” The man who had been facing away, hiding in the corner farthest from the flowing water, turned around.
The flame beneath the lampshade flickered, illuminating the flame-shaped tattoo on the man’s bald head. He wore a strange metal device over his eyes, intricately crafted, with gemstone lenses that were pitch black and reflected nothing, except for two faint embers burning deep within.
“You’re…” Jacob hadn’t ignored this man; he gave him a very uncomfortable feeling, as if he were close to a red-hot iron, causing the hairs on his skin to curl from the unbearable heat. “Sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“That doesn’t matter.” The man’s lips didn’t move as he spoke, and his tone remained flat. “Since you’re a merchant, you should keep your word. The cost of breaking a contract is high.”
“You mean the job I took recently? I merely promised Gel to take those people to Seal City—someone wanted them there.” Jacob glanced at the Teflin man. “I owe him a favor, but that doesn’t mean I have to risk my life and wealth for it.”
“Are you scared?” The bald man leaned forward. Jacob noticed some strange metal devices on his neck as well, hidden beneath his collar.
“Yes, Mr. Jacob is always afraid of everything,” Gel added. “I guess that’s why he’s still just a traveling merchant.”

Jacob felt a bit embarrassed. Just as he was about to retort, a sweet woman’s voice came from somewhere.
“Gentlemen, admitting fear doesn’t make us weak.”
A red shadow flashed briefly on a sculpture beside the desk that kept spraying water. As the water stirred gently, the red shadow gradually became clearer in the flickering candlelight, revealing the silhouette of a graceful woman.
She seemed to have just taken a bath; her hair was still wet. Her blood-red mage robe was tight across her chest, and its collar wasn’t fastened properly, sticking to her body due to the moisture. Most importantly, it seemed she was wearing nothing but that robe—undoubtedly drawing Gell and Douglas’s attention.
“I’m not afraid, Miss Dracula,” the bald man slowly turned his head, but Jacob doubted what he could see in those mechanical eyes.
“Darling, can we discuss this later, please?” the woman named Dracula said sweetly, wiping her gold-rimmed glasses with a silk handkerchief.
“Are you Mr. Jacob?” She put on her glasses. “See, I won’t ask you to do anything that would put you in trouble. For personal reasons, I just want to track down my former friend… Mr. Gell is a kind-hearted man who’s willing to help.”
“Well… now you’ve seen them,” Jacob said. He firmly believed that a woman who dared to flirt with men was either foolish or dangerous. At this moment, he preferred to think of her as the latter. “So can I assume my business is done?”
“Hehehe… You’re quite witty, Mr. Jacob,” Dracula giggled, covering her mouth. “Of course not. Wouldn’t that be a waste of your talents?”
“You want to use a portal to take our friends to Mark City, right?” she continued. “Coincidentally, I have a ready-made portal. I’d be happy to help with that… You know, I had to work hard to get it from Lord Pryx!”
Jacob rubbed his hands together.
“May I ask where this portal leads?”
“Oh, old friend,” Douglas said, shifting his gaze away from Dracula’s chest. “Don’t ask things you shouldn’t. The less you know, the safer you are.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe anyone who framed them could be safe!” Jacob turned to Douglas. “So this is Lord Pryx’s decision? If possible, I suggest he reconsider…”
“It’s not Lord Pryx’s decision,” Dracula’s tone changed; it seemed she was tired of this secretive conversation.
She stepped closer to Jacob. “Pryx is just a minor figure. Take them through the portal I’ve given you—if you can’t get them all in, at least make sure the metal man gets in. Douglas and Gell will discuss the details with you, understand, Mr. Jacob?”
Jacob hesitated for only a moment. He bowed humbly. “As you wish, Miss Dracula.”