Ch.245Men Toiling in Sweat and Blood Beneath Lewd Gestures

As the sun began to set, we killed time until dinner, then headed to a strip club called Hell’s Garden. At the entrance, two burly men blocked our path.

“Hey there, buddy. Why bring two pretty ladies here? If you’re looking for a hotel, it’s two blocks down.”

“We actually have business at the club. Are women not allowed in?”

“Of course they are. Anyone who’s here to spend money is welcome, regardless of age or gender. Heh heh heh.”

“And if they’re women coming to work here, they’re even more welcome. Heh heh heh…”

“I’m afraid the wages and tips here would fall far short of my monthly income.”

Jessica silenced the guards’ lewd comments by showing her Frontier License card.

Even though Grantis supposedly had no class distinctions, there were clear differences in treatment based on license rank. Especially when that license belonged to an advanced mage working as an adventurer—proof of both upper-class status and overwhelming combat power.

Mere strip club security guards had no business treating someone like her disrespectfully.

“W-we apologize for our rudeness.”

“Let’s go inside.”

As the guards bowed at a 90-degree angle, we patted their shoulders and opened the club doors. Hot air and sticky music flowed out.

They must be using some magical device to keep the noise from leaking outside when the doors are closed.

“…Wow.”

I hadn’t expected much, thinking it would be at best something from the Wild West era, but the scene before us could rival any 21st century Earth nightclub.

Inside, where colorful lights flashed incessantly, five circular stages about two meters in diameter were set up. On each stage, scantily-clad beauties were performing sultry pole dances, gripping poles installed at the center.

Customers watched the dancers’ erotic movements from outside the fence surrounding each stage. Occasionally, when a dancer leaned forward, they would tuck bills into her cleavage.

When a dancer collected a satisfactory amount of money and reached behind to unhook her bra, her voluptuous breasts would spill out—

*Pinch*

“Ouch!”

“…I know Will is a man and can’t help it, but if you keep staring at the dancers like that, I’m going to get upset.”

“Ah… sorry.”

“Seti, stop gawking and come over here. Our destination is that way.”

Led by Jessica’s hand, we moved deeper into the club, where a large iron door marked with a skull was guarded by a man in a suit and an alluring woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties.

“My, my, two cute girls have come to visit. What brings you here?”

“We’re interested in the underground fighting arena.”

“Fight spectators are always welcome. It’s a thousand gold for participants, a hundred gold for spectators.”

Jessica silently took out 300 gold from our party funds and placed it in the woman’s hand. The suited man opened the iron door, and the woman who had taken our money guided us downstairs.

“Woooah!”

After descending a short staircase and passing through an iron door where cheers were leaking out, we found two men fighting in a square ring surrounded by wire mesh.

One tall man covered in wounds had a flushed face as if he’d been drinking, while his opponent was shorter but had taut muscles and sharp eyes.

“You can place bets starting from the next match. The minimum bet is 1 gold, maximum 1000 gold. Odds information is posted on the bulletin board on the right wall. Remember, if you go back upstairs, you’ll need to pay another 100 gold to come down again.”

“Is it possible to see the ’10-win prize’ item?”

“That’s only shown to participants. You can enter anytime for an additional 900 gold—just talk to any of the staff here if you’re interested.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Well then, have a good evening.”

With that farewell, the woman went back upstairs through the door we had entered, and we began watching the match from the less crowded outer area.

In the ring, the tall man was lifting the shorter man and throwing him to the floor.

*CRASH!*

“Ugh!”

“Woooooah!”

Unable to break his fall properly, the man was thrown down and then took a soccer kick to the face from the taller man, knocking him unconscious.

A middle-aged man watching from outside the wire mesh began counting, joined by the surrounding spectators.

“ONE! TWO! THREE! FO…”

The unconscious man failed to regain consciousness before the count reached ten, and the match ended with the tall man’s victory.

A door in the wire mesh opened, and event staff dragged out the unconscious loser while the winner sat on a makeshift chair in the corner to rest and prepare for the next round.

Outside the arena, spectators who had bet on the tall man collected their winnings according to the odds, and as a new challenger emerged from the waiting room, a new round of betting began.

“Should we place bets too?”

“Let’s just observe today. We need to understand how the matches work before we can predict win rates.”

After watching for about two hours, we were able to grasp the general rules of this underground fighting tournament.

First, as it was billed as bare-handed combat, weapons, armor, or clothing that could serve such purposes were prohibited.

Participants underwent thorough physical examinations upon registration, and all magical effects on their bodies were removed using magical tools from Haju.

This was to prevent doping through auxiliary magic, magical tools, potions, and the like.

During matches, all forms of attack were basically allowed, and attacks on fallen opponents were permitted once per knockdown.

However, causing death or serious damage to vital organs such as eyes or genitals would result in disqualification.

I heard that before this rule was implemented, there was a trend of targeting the groin with jumping knee strikes after knocking opponents down… thankfully, they eventually added rules against such inhumane tactics.

The victory condition was knocking down an opponent who couldn’t get up before a count of ten.

The only ways to lose were by knockout or disqualification—under no circumstances was surrender accepted.

In other words, once you stepped into the ring, you either achieved ten consecutive wins, got beaten to a pulp, or caused a fatal accident before you could leave.

‘A dangerous, barbaric competition with high risks. No one with merely decent skills could dream of winning ten consecutive matches.’

Even though rest periods were provided between rounds for betting, they weren’t enough to fully recover from damage sustained in matches.

Meanwhile, challengers entered the ring in peak condition, meaning that with each successive win, the champion’s body would become increasingly battered.

There was another factor working against consecutive winners:

Before the next round began, the winner had to drink a small cup of whiskey.

This was clearly the organizers’ ploy to prevent long winning streaks, but surprisingly, not only the audience but even the winners themselves enthusiastically welcomed this rule.

That was because—

“It’s~ show time~~~~!!”

“Woooooah!!”

The whiskey was served by a round girl in sexy attire.

Moreover, this round girl had numbered tags attached to various parts of her clothing, allowing the winner to personally remove pieces based on their consecutive wins.

First win: hat. Second win: jacket. Third win: boots. Fourth win: top… and so on.

Rumor had it that for the ninth win, a completely nude round girl would hold the whiskey in her mouth and transfer it mouth-to-mouth…

Unfortunately, even the person with the most victories today only reached six consecutive wins, so we didn’t get to witness that extreme service.

“We’ve gathered all the information we need. Should we head back now?”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll learn anything more by staying longer.”

After finishing our observation, we went back upstairs and tried to purchase a bottle of the whiskey the winners had been drinking, but we were told it was a special premium reserved only for participants and not for sale to regular customers.

I wanted to investigate how strong the alcohol was and if there were non-magical ways to suppress its effects… but the fact that they didn’t reveal weaknesses even in this aspect proved that Hell’s Garden was no ordinary establishment.

‘In the end, whether I enter or Seti does, a frontal approach seems to be our only option.’

It was a night that left me slightly anxious about whether we could get our hands on the Box of Stopped Time.