The brothel was an easy place to find, even in the dark. Whoever ran the place made no attempt to conceal it. Not only was it in plain sight, but it was also located in an upscale part of the city. An ornamental lantern on each side of the entrance lit up the front of the building. The words ‘Otto’s Brothel’ had been engraved in large, gold lettering on the stone wall of the windowless, two-story building. Its front door was studded with iron and reinforced with iron bands.

When Dugu knocked, a slit in the door opened.

Someone peered through it from other side. "Entrance fee, please."

"Let me get it out it for you." Dugu gripped the long handle of the sword on his back.

He pulled the sword out of its leather strap, revealing a big and bulky heap of iron. "Here you go."

Swinging it downwards, he busted open the door and the man behind it. Shards of wood and jagged metal flew in all directions.

He stepped through the hole he just made, into a luxurious lobby. In front of him was a full-length reception desk with a marble top. It was flanked by two marble staircases that curved elegantly upwards to the second floor, which was open to the floor below. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought that this was the reception area of a high-class hotel.

Dozens of men, armed to the teeth, congregated on the first floor. The way they moved and the scars on their bodies suggested that they weren’t amateurs. Their armor and weapons varied as widely as their body shapes and sizes. This was a ragtag bunch of experienced killers.

He cleared his throat. "I don't suppose someone could point me to the bathroom?"

No one responded.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Heck, it was worth a shot."

A porky man on the second floor pointed at him. "Get him!"

He must be the boss.

The armed men shouted battle cries and swarmed Dugu.

***

As Otto's brothel business grew, so did his need for more security. The men he had hired to protect it were supposed to be the best of the best. They were mercenaries he had recruited, at great expense, over the years. Each one was supposedly stronger than the average knight.

However, Otto watched, in disbelief, as they were cut down with unreal swiftness. It was like watching waves crashing against a shore, except the waves were his men and the shore was the intruder. With each swing of his monstrous sword, the intruder sent multiple men flying through the air like lumps of meat, painting the floors and walls with blood.

He wondered which family had sent the intruder. The number of families from who he and Prince Darius had kidnapped women were too numerous to count. Up until now, every single person who tried to save their loved one from the brothel had been put down either by his men or by the prince's knights.

It’s only a matter of time before all my men are cut down. I need to get my money and leave!

He ran to his office and fumbled in his pockets for the keys. Beads of sweat dripped down his face. He had trouble inserting the key into the keyhole, because his hands were shaky. After many attempts, he finally managed to unlock the door. Piles of gold coins sat on the table inside. He grabbed a sack. As he filled the sack with gold coins, he could hear the cries and screams of his men outside.

After all the money I spent on them, the least they could do is buy me time to escape. Where's Prometheus when I need him? What am I paying him for?

Once the sack was full, Otto tried lifting it up. Even with both arms, he could barely lift it off the ground. Not willing to lighten the load, he dragged it out of his office. When he tried to get it down the stairs, he lost his footing and tumbled downwards.

He landed at the base of the stairs, battered and winded. As he lay on the floor, he gasped for air and collected his thoughts. He slowly moved his arms and legs, to make sure everything still worked. They ached, but otherwise worked fine.

Someone held out a hand. "Need a hand?"

Is that Prometheus? Did he finally show up?

"About time, Prometheus! Who do you think pays you?"

The hand tugged him up onto his feet.

"Definitely not you."

Otto raised his head to see who had just helped him. He cried in surprise when he saw the intruder, covered in blood, standing in front of him.

He took out his knife and pointed it at the intruder. “Don’t come any closer!”

The intruder knitted his brows when he saw the knife. “Easton’s face was ripped apart by a serrated weapon. You must be the one who cut up him up.”

Otto didn’t know who the intruder was talking about. The number of faces he’d cut up was too many to count.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. But if you don’t want to end up like your friend, then I suggest you leave!”

“I’d like to see you try.” The intruder stepped forward.

Otto backed away. He stumbled over something and dropped his knife. Color drained from his face and he felt sick to his stomach, when he saw that his feet were entangled in the intestines of one of his men. He surveyed the room and saw piles of bodies everywhere. There was no one left to save him. All his men had either died or fled. His clients were fleeing left and right. Death was staring him in the face.

The intruder took another step toward him.

Otto gestured for him to stop. “Wait!"

He searched for a way out. When he saw his sack of gold coins lying on the stairs behind him, an idea popped into his head.

As long as I’m alive, I can always make more money. Even if I can’t, I still have enough money stashed away to live like a king for the rest of my life.

He pointed at the sack. "That's filled with gold. Take it! Just let me live."

The intruder's face lit up. "Free money? Sweet!"

That's what I thought. No man in his right mind would turn down that amount of gold.

The intruder narrowed his eyes. "On second thoughts..."

It's not enough? He's as greedy as me!

"Picking it up would be a pain. You see, I've only got one arm." He tapped his empty left sleeve with his sword. "How about this: I'll leave my sword right here, but you have to promise me you won't touch it."

Otto nodded. "I promise!"

"Great!" The intruder propped his sword against the wall and proceeded up the stairs, toward the sack of coins.

That massive sword must be the source of his power. He lifts it so easily with one arm, so it's probably enchanted with weight reduction magic. If I can just get my hands on it...

When the intruder stopped to pick up the sack, Otto rushed over to the sword. He couldn’t reach its handle, so he wrapped his arms around its blade and pulled with all his might

"Fool! I'm going to make you regret... eh?" Otto's eyes widened.

The massive sword fell toward him, and, try as he might, he couldn’t push it back. It crushed him against the floor.

He tried to suck in air, but nothing came. "Hel-help me! I-I can't breathe!"

His whole body felt numb.

The intruder approached him. "You've made a fortune by trapping women in this hellhole. How does it feel to be the trapped one?"

"I-I'll pay anything!"

"Nah, you can't put a price on justice."

Otto’s heart, beating against his rib cage, slowed as time passed. Tears welled up in his eyes, as realization of his imminent death dawned on him. It was too unfair. He hadn’t even had a chance to use the money he’d worked so hard to make. His vision blurred as his consciousness slipped way.