Chapter 113 | Magna Paradise Nightclub
199 4 17
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Inside the nightclub.

Two large, imposing security guards sit next to a metal detector, watching the three people approaching the entrance.

Behind the security guards and the metal detector, there are two elevators. Otherwise, the first-floor lobby looks quite ordinary.

"Hello, we are a members-only club. Please show your membership proof," one of the burly, bald guards says as he steps forward.

Lando, who should have been trembling and too scared to move, forces a smile. Thanks to Zoe’s stern advice before entering, he keeps calm and walks forward with Elpancho and Zoe.

After showing their temporary membership cards, they pass through the metal detector under the watchful eyes of the guards.

Once the guards confirm that the three aren't carrying any prohibited items, they hand Lando a keycard for the elevator and motion for them to head to the second floor.

The trio walks toward the elevator.

Once inside, Lando and Elpancho both breathe a sigh of relief.

They both swear this is the best acting they've ever done in their lives.

Despite being terrified of Zoe, they had to suppress their fear and use their temporary membership to guide her in.

"Madam, anything else? If not, we'll be leaving," Lando forces a smile.

However, the swelling on his face, a result of Zoe’s earlier actions, pains him as he moves and he can’t help but wince, retracting the smile.

"Leave? Didn’t you pay a lot of money to come here and network, trying to get ahead?" Zoe’s voice is calm but laced with a sharp edge as she glances at Lando’s pompadour, unable to resist reaching up to touch it.

The motion makes Lando flinch.

When he realizes he wasn’t hit, he cautiously responds, "Actually... even if we meet the big shots here, it doesn't guarantee success."

Lando’s gaze dims as he speaks.

Although this place is filled with wealthy people, what does it mean for him to be here? After entering, would anyone even notice him?

He knows the answer, but doesn’t want to give up his dream of becoming a gangster.

Now, he understands that getting ahead is all a fantasy. The most important thing now is to cooperate with the woman in front of him to avoid another beating.

He has considered calling the police.

He didn’t when they were beaten earlier, because losing in the eight-on-one fight, a woman no less, was hard to explain, and now, he's too afraid that a few slaps would be enough to end him before the police arrive.

He could swear, the woman before him is a monster.

Once those terrifying, steel-like hands had him, there was no escaping.

"You have to try," Zoe says with a faint smile, then casually asks, "By the way, where are your six other flashy-haired underlings?"

Her voice is soft, but it makes Lando and Elpancho instantly tense up.

If they remember correctly, Madam had told them to fix their ridiculous hairstyles before.

They didn’t mind fixing them; the real problem was facing her with these absurd hairstyles.

Fear surges in their hearts as sweat begins to drip from their foreheads, soaking their collars. Their muscles stiffen in terror.

The elevator doors open with a soft chime.

Before them is a spacious hall, with hidden spotlights on the ceiling instead of flashy crystal chandeliers. The light they emit evenly illuminates the entire space while maintaining an air of mystery.

In the center of the hall is a dance floor, where men and women move their bodies to the music.

Three hallways extend from the area, with private rooms lining both sides.

Passionate music fills the air, breaking the elevator’s silence.

Seeing they’ve reached their destination, Zoe no longer scares the two young men.

After all, she’s not a monster.

She smiles and adjusts Lando’s collar.

Her actions are calm, and her voice just as calm as she says, "Remember to change that ridiculous hairstyle. Don’t make me say it a third time."

Zoe then lovingly buttons the top of Lando’s shirt before stepping out of the elevator.

Lando and Elpancho stand there, unable to move, staring at Zoe’s retreating figure until the elevator doors close. Only then do they breathe deeply, as if they had just been pulled from water.

Lando, feeling the tightness around his neck from the top button, still senses the oppressive weight Zoe left behind, and can’t shake the feeling.

"Lando, what should we do next..." Elpancho swallows nervously, unsure.

"Go back…"

"To get a haircut!" Lando nods firmly, his voice filled with a determination unlike ever before.

...

In this world, gangs have long since faded.

The crackdown has always been serious.

No matter how arrogant someone is, they have to play by the rules. If they break those rules and provoke the wrong person, they’re finished.

Zoe’s advice to those two young punks, aside from her dislike of their hairstyles, was partially out of consideration for them.

After all, she had used them, so she figured a casual word of warning wouldn’t hurt.

Walking out of the elevator, the chaos of the dance floor greets her.

Compared to the dart center Zoe visited before, this place feels much more low-key. People are genuinely here to enjoy themselves, not to discuss business.

Neon lights flicker as the heavy beats of the music pulse through the air like a heartbeat. The crowded people sway to the rhythm, blending with the sounds of cheers, conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses into a unique symphony.

Amid all this, the scents of sweat, perfume, alcohol, and smoke fill the air.

The air was thick with a mix of different smells, filling every corner of the space.

The crowd, lost in their revelry, remained oblivious, but for Zoe, whose senses were exceptionally sharp, the smells were undeniable.

The sounds and smells in this place were a far cry from Zoe's usual environment. In many of the private rooms, bold acts of indulgence were taking place and sensual moans can be heard.

However, Zoe’s attention wasn’t drawn to these distractions.

She quickly scanned her surroundings and noticed that, compared to the security near the first floor, there were far fewer cameras here. Not a single one was present in the private rooms.

This consideration for customer privacy was a good one.

Not only was it considerate to the customers, but it also worked to Zoe’s advantage, given her specific purpose for being here today.

As she pondered this, Zoe carefully navigated through the crowd, avoiding the few who looked at her with interests. For those who couldn’t be avoided, she simply lowered her head.

In the dimly lit and crowded environment, she easily avoided the cameras. Even if one had caught sight of her, it didn’t matter. She wore a high-end human skin mask she had gotten from Benny.

After a few steps, she managed to sidestep various groping hands, arriving at the center of the club.

Here, she engaged her enhanced sensory perception, filtering out the endless barrage of noises. Her finely honed skills allowed her to sift through the sounds effortlessly.

She categorized the sounds: music, cheers from the dance floor, footsteps, clothes rustling, breathing, heartbeats, moans, water flowing, wine being poured, various conversations…

Zoe kept sifting through them until she pinpointed the voices she sought.

[You’re overthinking it. Our club does decent business, only someone like Mister Cheng would want to mess with us.]

[This place is part of Mister Cheng’s old gray area business. As for cleaning it up…]

[Don’t talk about cleaning it up. We don’t deal in gambling or drugs, so what’s the problem? It’s just a bit gray.]

[Ugh, harder…]

[Focus, stop whining.]

[Who cares about that?]

Zoe turned off her heightened senses and walked toward the source of the voices.

She left the dance floor and walked down the hallway, stopping at the door of a private room.

A large man in a suit stretched out his hand, blocking Zoe’s path.

Zoe smiled and casually flicked her hand.

The man didn’t even realize what happened before he felt a blackness wash over him and lost consciousness.

Rather than letting the man fall, Zoe grabbed him by the collar and with her other hand, slowly opened the door.

With a creak, the heavy soundproof door opened. Whether it was due to the poor quality of the door or it being intentionally designed to signal an entrance, the noise wasn’t quiet.

“What’s going on…”

The man smoking a cigar was about to speak but froze mid-sentence.

The man with his hands on the hair of the man below him, and the others in the room all turned and stared.

Zoe casually dragged the unconscious bodyguard into the room, and the atmosphere instantly fell silent.

The only sound was the bodyguard’s clothes scraping against the floor.

The cigar-smoking man furrowed his brow. While the soundless knockout of the bodyguard outside indicated that the person walking in was formidable, he couldn’t help but wonder—who's this?

While thinking this, the cigar man subtly pressed a button beneath his seat.

But...

What? Why won’t it work?

He was confused but tried to maintain his composure.

The man holding the hair of the other man quickly signaled the women to step aside, then hastily fixed his pants and stood up to approach Zoe.

“Miss, which line do you belong to?”

Before the man could finish, Zoe released the bodyguard’s collar and slapped him across the face in one swift motion.

Youth is a wonderful thing—knocked out with a single slap.

The two men fell to the ground with a crash, while a woman stifled a scream.

Afterward, Zoe leisurely walked over to the sofa across from the cigar-smoking man, sitting down with ease.

Though she hadn’t spoken, an overwhelming pressure filled the room.

“Madam, we live in a society governed by law now. Violence isn’t tolerated.”

The cigar-smoking man spoke first, his voice trembling. He wasn’t just trying to act calm—he was genuinely intimidated. A person who could incapacitate two grown men in an instant was someone to be feared.

What’s going on? Is this some kind of movie scene? Why would such a person come to bother him, a small-time operator?

Having spent so many years enjoying luxuries and running this place, he had long since lost the edge he once had in the underworld.

To make matters worse, the button he had pressed to call for help wasn’t working. This only added to his unease.

Unable to control himself any longer, he spoke up.

Zoe, sensing the man’s anxiety, smirked faintly.

The reason the button didn’t work was because Zoe had used telekinesis to disable it. She wasn’t some incompetent villain waiting for her prey to prepare.

With her heightened sensory capabilities and telekinetic power, there was no way this man would be able to press the button without it being immediately sabotaged.

“You’d better answer my questions before anyone realizes something is off, or else…”

As she spoke, Zoe casually flicked a playing card from the table.

The card sliced through the air with a sharp sound and grazed the cigar-smoking man’s face before embedding itself in the soundproof wall behind him.

The man felt the sting of the cut and immediately panicked, his voice shaking.

'A bonafide hitman!'

“Go ahead and ask! I’ll answer honestly!”

Zoe wasted no time. “Mister Cheng still does business storing items for people in the gray area, right? Has anything happened recently?”

She didn’t hesitate to ask. She wasn’t worried about exposing anything because Benny took every precaution when visiting the warehouse, ensuring she left no traces behind.

Every other person who visited that place did the same, and Zoe’s heightened perception had confirmed that several other storage compartments had been cleared, with only a notice about increased rents left behind.

Mister Cheng wasn’t targeting Benny alone—he was targeting anyone who had valuables stored there, clearly planning to take everything for himself.

So, asking this question wouldn’t reveal anything she didn’t already know.

Moreover, Zoe had taken every precaution, including wearing a disguise, so there was no concern about exposure.

“Madam, this is a tough one. That was part of Mister Cheng’s old business. We’re just a small part of it. We have no knowledge of such matters,” the cigar-smoking man hastily replied.

However, Zoe wasn’t satisfied with the answer.

“Tough? Then don’t bother.”

Zoe stood up and casually flipped the table with a single hand.

The table flew into the air with a force that left everyone in the room frozen, staring in shock.

The table wasn’t light.

As it spun through the air and slammed back down behind the cigar-smoking man, the loud crash made everyone but Zoe flinch. The soundproofing of the room kept it from being heard outside.

The playing cards that had been on the table fluttered through the air, scattering like confetti.

The cigar-smoking man, still in shock from the near-miss, could only gulp in fear as his cigar fell to the floor.

17