Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 32 - 32: The Shattered Tower



Chapter 32 - 32: The Shattered Tower

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: The Shattered Tower

In the heart of Underdog City stands a towering hotel with a massive club on the 69th and 70th floors.

Named "Elevated Indulgence," it's an exclusive club where the elite of Underdog City gather to let loose.

Champagnes costing up to 100 million gold per bottle are flown in, and energetic music fills the air.

Hookahs emit billows of smoke, and colorful lights add to the atmosphere.

It's so opulent that it feels like a grand ball.

"Bring it all here!"

"Get more!"

"Let's party like there's no tomorrow!"

In a secluded room deep within the club, seven young students hang out, paying 10 million gold for six hours. This room is only open to VVIPs.

Champagne, costing more than 100 million gold per bottle, is chilling on ice.

On a large table, champagne glasses are stacked high in a pyramid shape.

At the top, 100 glasses are arranged in a 10x10 square.

Beneath them, 81 glasses form a 9x9 shape.

And so on, down to 49, 36, 25, 16, and 9 glasses.

Finally, one last glass sits on top, completing the pyramid-shaped champagne tower.

The seven gathered friends laugh as they pour the expensive champagne, Don Quixote Perignon 666, into the top glass.

And then...

*clink* *laugh*...

As the top glass fills, champagne begins to trickle down into the glasses below, gradually filling them up.

When the bottle is nearly empty, they discard it without hesitation and order another one.

And so on.

The champagne cascades down from the top, filling the glasses below until all 385 glasses in the tower are full.

The friends laugh and say, "Hey, drink what spills on the table."

Suddenly, servers rush into the room.

"Thank you, brothers."

"Thanks to you, I've tasted such expensive alcohol and I'm properly spoiled."

"We'll serve you with all our hearts today."

The servers smile and lick the spilled champagne from the table.

The friends laugh and toss gold coins on their faces.

"This is the trickle-down effect."

Champagne dripping from the top, filling the glasses below, soaking the table, and seven men laughing as they watch.

These men are the core members of the local government's Youth Independence Committee.

Though just a civilian organization made up of second- and third-generation local nobility, their influence can't be ignored.

They have enough money and power to hold some low-level government positions, yet they still consider themselves nobles, ruling over the common people.

Having lived in the area for a long time, they're familiar with their surroundings. So the Baskervilles have granted them some authority to handle minor issues on their own.

In return for a bit of recognition and responsibility, they've been given some autonomy by the Baskervilles.

Actually, most of these men are descendants of families that were defeated and pushed to the edges of the Empire's central battles for power.

Except for the Baskervilles, who have been sent by the Sovereign to expand the Empire's borders, they're nothing special.

But the youths gathered here don't see it that way.

"It's better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon."

"Isn't it better to play here, away from the eyes of the noble family?"

"Yeah. I went to a club in the royal capital recently, and it wasn't as luxurious as this."

"And we're protected by the Baskervilles. How safe are we?"

"Laugh, laugh - aren't the Baskervilles our dogs already?"

However, these friends have their flaws.

While the Baskervilles are busy expanding their territories, they're indulging themselves inside.

So where does the money come from to pay for this luxury and debauchery?

Local tax revenues are quite modest.

At best, they collect water charges, road tolls, and proceeds from the sale of livestock. But it's not much to pay the servants and laborers.

Both the inflow and outflow of money are small, but they have a hidden source of income.

Illegal slave auctions.

This involves capturing, imprisoning, and selling unauthorized individuals into slavery.

Recently, the Baskervilles' aggressive territorial expansion has displaced many savage tribes, so they've been luring or forcibly seizing them to sell them into slavery.

In other words, they would work for free for the Baskervilles and receive scraps in return.

With no taxes and a steady stream of business, money naturally accumulates.

With the illicit money they've acquired, the friends are able to live it up.

They can't deposit it in the bank since it's illegally obtained, so they spend it all in cash.

"The champagne tower is full! Let the guests in! Bring the good ones."

They dismiss the servers for a while.

Then, they start gossiping among themselves.

"By the way," one says, "it's nice to have a troubled family like the Messinadnaros gone. We can have fun without their intrusive eyes."

"Actually, that's how it should be. We're spending our own money."

"Good thing we framed them and kicked them out, huh?"

"Let's not let them back in."

They smoke hookahs and look relaxed.

Suddenly, one of them looks up.

"Hey, have you guys heard about the new deputy?"

"Yeah, I put in a request for a meeting. He has the Barnes last name."

"Hmm. Well, if he's a half-breed, he must be a charlatan."

"You should feel honored to be called by us."

"Laugh, laugh, he'll come running."

When new deputy magistrates arrive, they always do something called "taming the junior officials."

It's not a joke, but rather a bit of a tough party to shock them.

It's like putting a leash on a dog, saying, "If you'll follow us, you'll listen to us." The friends laugh.

"The youngster goes by Vikir. Have you heard of him?"

"I don't know, I've never heard of him."

"He's 15. They say this is his first job out of the family."

"What? Is he a total rookie?"

"Yeah, he's a rookie. He reportedly got drunk when he first came to city hall. He must be a bit of a mess."

"Hey now, if you think he'll fit in with us."

Then, one of the friends has an idea.

"Why don't we tease him a bit, then?"

He gestures with his finger, outlining his plan.

"Later, we'll have a big party and invite him over. We'll get the best alcohol, we'll get all the girls, and we'll have a typical, wild party."

"And?"

"And then, after the party, we'll make him pay for the drinks."

The friends burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay, that sounds like fun."

"Don't you think his eyes will pop out when he sees you asking?"

"Just make sure to understand that your oldest son is spending this much money to entertain you. If you take it for granted, you'll disappear."

"I don't think a 15-year-old government official would have the money, and he wouldn't be able to find a way to get it since he'd be denounced if he reported it to his family and friends."

"Then, you can say it was a joke and pay him back later."

The friends have a plan for the new deputy magistrate, and how to tease him.

Suddenly...

"Gentlemen, the ladies are here!"

A server bursts into the room with a huge smile.

Soon, several women enter the club room, marveling at the luxury.

Some of them are familiar faces, and the friends wave at them.

"Hey, isn't that a joke?"

"After all that?"

"Send him away. We're proud of you, ugh."

"Why? I thought she was pretty."

"Hey, come here and sit down this time!"

One by one, the women enter the room.

But among the crowd of girls, there's an odd one.

A boy, maybe in his early teens? A very young-looking boy.

He follows the women into the room from the back of the line, and it's so natural that the servers don't even bother to stop him.

The seven friends check out the women, making crude jokes, and finally notice the boy.

"But, what's with him? Did you bring a male server? Well, he looks cute."

"Oh, don't you know him?"

"No, I don't."

The teachers, the servers, and the women all look surprised.

What is this child doing here?

One of the servers speaks up.

"He walked in so confidently that no one thought anything of it. How dare you, you brat, tell me where...!"

But he can't quite touch or grab the boy by the hair.

Oops.

The sound of something thick and hard breaking.

The server suddenly realizes that his wrist has been twisted in a strange direction.

"Ouch!"

The boy had just broken a grown man's thick forearm with sheer brute force.

"What, what, you!"

Three or four servers leap into action, but it takes less than a second before they're all on the floor.

The friends' faces freeze for a moment.

Then, with a single, loud laugh.

"Wahahahahaha - this is hilarious, Deputy! I didn't think you'd come so early!"

The mood isn't great.

Plus, the friends have just been insulted, and their pride has been wounded.

"Shall we start taming the newcomers right away?"

"Sure. Let's get some drinks."

"What if we tease them, intoxicate them, get them all worked up, and then ask them to pay for their drinks later at the end of the party...?"

But their cute little plan doesn't quite work out.

...Thud!

Vikir slams his hand on the table.

And...

*Clang, clang, clang...*

The dark aura of the Baskervilles emanates from him.

Mana courses through Vikir's body, transmitting through his hand and into the table.

A fierce resonance, a violent vibration.

Boom, boom, boom, boom...

On the table, in the glasses, the champagne suddenly starts to bubble.

And then...

The grand champagne tower in the center of the room changes.

...Pow!

A single glass at the top of the champagne tower suddenly explodes.

Numerous glass shards and champagne drops shimmer and scatter below.

...Boom!

...Clink! ...Clink!

...Clink! ...Clink! ...Clink! ...Clink!

The glasses on the fourth floor,

nine glasses on the third floor,

16 glasses on the second floor,

and 25 glasses on the first floor,

36 glasses on the first floor,

49 glasses on the first floor,

64 glasses on the first floor,

81 glasses on the first floor,

and 100 glasses beneath that, all explode and shatter in succession.

The champagne tower collapses.

It doesn't collapse from the bottom, but explodes backwards from the top.

*Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding...*

Countless glass shards and champagne drops rain down on the VVIP room.

Under the shower, the friends of Sedoga can say one thing.

"We planned to pay for the...".


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