Bab 118: Chapter 118: Blood
Unlike the noise and commotion typical of other bars or nightclubs, the hall of Nightfall was filled with soothing music that calmed both body and mind.
The hall featured extensive use of marble, evoking a strong Romanesque style with elements like arches, domes, colonnades, and pilasters.
A receptionist dressed in a sleek, black, backless gown walked elegantly, leading Ryan into the hall. In a gentle voice, she said, "Please wait here patiently for a moment."
"Hurry up," Ryan said, deliberately showing a hint of impatience as he sat on the sofa.
"Yes, sir." The receptionist, maintaining her composure, bowed slightly to Ryan before disappearing behind a red-curtained area.
During the wait, other attendants came forward, pouring Ryan a glass of Barolo red wine. The marble coffee table was soon covered with an array of fresh fruit platters and various exquisite snacks.
At first, Ryan was satisfied with the attentive service but quickly reminded himself that this was costing the company sixty thousand dollars—sixty thousand! For that price, this level of service should be a given.
He indeed had no electronic devices on him, preventing him from communicating with the outside world through conversation. However, the disposable contact lenses he wore had a real-time recording function, powered by a tiny amount of condensed-state energy, allowing them to operate for forty minutes.
Although the security personnel noticed the contact lenses, they didn't ask Ryan to remove them. After all, condensed-state technology was still conceptual in the current main universe, far from being mass-produced or widely used.
Thus, Mike, who was stationed outside to provide support, could observe the interior of Nightfall through Ryan's perspective and decide whether they needed assistance from the ARS team based on his situation.
After nearly ten minutes of waiting, the receptionist reappeared in the hall, carrying a paper contract, and reentered Ryan's line of sight.
"So slow? I only came here because I heard this was the most expensive place around!" Ryan deliberately showed an annoyed expression again.
"My apologies." The receptionist maintained her steady demeanor, placing the contract on the coffee table and continuing in a gentle tone, "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Westeros. We have verified that you qualify to purchase a formal membership. The membership fee is two million dollars. Would you like to review the membership details? A friendly reminder: once you start reviewing, you'll be bound by a strict confidentiality agreement."
"Two million… my entire allowance is just over three hundred thousand," Ryan hesitated.
"We offer the option to pay in four installments over a year with no additional interest. However, you may choose to forgo experiencing the wonders of Nightfall; the choice is entirely yours."
"Two million, so what? You're being so secretive, and now I must see it! It's not like I can't afford it!" Ryan, clearly provoked by her words, grabbed the contract and began reading.
However, upon flipping open the contract, the first clause he read made him frown.
"1. Dear prospective member, this clause takes effect immediately upon reading the contract. Whether or not you sign, you will be bound by the confidentiality regulations. Any violations will be met with private means of enforcement, including but not limited to exsanguination, flaying alive, and eye gouging."
No wonder few people had heard of Nightfall before the advent of the internet. Despite this, Ryan, eager to gather information, forced a disdainful expression and laughed, "Why must I keep it a secret from now on? Just because of some intimidating words? Don't make me laugh."
"We understand Mr. Westeros's concerns, but within the past three minutes, using the brief information from your QR payment, we've conducted a thorough investigation of you and your background," the receptionist paused before continuing, "Your father, Cron Westeros, is one of Paris's wealthy elite with a net worth exceeding seventy-five million dollars. As his illegitimate child, seldom mentioned in public, your father compensates for your dissatisfaction by providing more financial support.
We have the means to erase you from existence, so please have no doubt about that. This was your choice, Mr. Westeros, and any consequences of breaking the agreement will be your responsibility."
Listening to the receptionist reveal his background and threaten him without any subtlety, Ryan gradually reined in his arrogance, appearing genuinely intimidated.
In reality, Ryan felt relieved. The other party couldn't discern the company's fabricated photos and identity information in such a short time and assumed he was someone easily threatened.
After all, the so-called background check likely relied on internet searches, public records, and spending history.
The Atlas Investigation Department had prepared thoroughly, supported by a prototype quantum computer sponsored by the Research Department, which provided forged banking information, personal photos, and records.
Ryan continued to review the contract details. The clauses became increasingly "strange" as he read on, such as "Dear prospective member, you retain the right to maintain your human identity, while also qualifying to join our ranks," or "Please note, once you choose to join us, this decision is irrevocable."
Once Ryan finished reading the entire contract, the receptionist handed him a pen, still smiling as she asked, "What do you think, Mr. Westeros? Are you willing to pay the two million membership fee to explore a whole new world?"
"I'm already under a death threat. If I don't spend this money, I'd feel like I'm losing out," Ryan said, grabbing the pen and signing "Il Westeros" at the bottom of the contract.
"Thank you for your promptness and generosity. Let's complete the payment process, and I'll personally lead you into the extraordinary world beneath Nightfall." The receptionist's tone grew increasingly seductive.
"Alright, let's go." Ryan sighed.
Next, he was given brief access to his phone and transferred $740,000 to the designated account via online banking.
Of course, this wasn't because Ryan chose to pay in installments but rather because the Investigation Department had prepared a bank card with a daily spending limit of $800,000, meaning it would take two more days to complete the payment.
Afterward, he followed the receptionist out of the hall, taking an elevator down to the underground level. They passed through a 300-meter tunnel, finally reaching the core area of Nightfall. There, he saw scantily clad women frolicking in a pool seemingly filled with fresh blood, and towering werewolves, nearly three meters tall, covered in fur, stood out starkly.
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