Ero Saint: I Created An Ero Massage Parlor In Another World Chapter 40: Don’t Buy This - Yet!

though in a sense, it was only less than a day old since I last saw it.

How great would it be if I could bring all my stuff from Earth here with ...

"Sigh... How is it that my first day in another world had to be so miserable that it needed to run to many places at once? It would be nothing if I were a fan of marathons or jogging, but sadly, I’m not. This was definitely not how I imagined spending my first day after getting isekai’d."

Despite all the complaints, I kept on walking, though my pace had grown slower, almost like a snail.

But more importantly, I suddenly realized how badly this had screwed up my brilliant plan of setting up the new ero-massage program!

This was supposed to be perfect. I had the massage skill inherited from the original Aiden’s mory, and with the "Sensual Touch" skill on top of that, I was sure I could bring in plenty of custors and finish the main quest just in ti.

But now?

If everyone’s started avoiding my parlor like it’s the plague, how am I supposed to get any custors?

Fuck! Who the hell started spreading this crap?

Could it be the Sadis Gang again? Of course, it had to be their doing again! That would explain everything. News about my capture spread far too fast. And knowing the Sadis Gang specialized in gathering and leaking information, it wasn’t a stretch to think they were behind this too.

’Looks like and those shitheads really are fated to be mortal enemies, huh? Fine by , after all, it’s not like I can rest peacefully until I’ve destroyed them.’

Still, there’s sothing that bothers .

If the Sadis Gang was behind the rumor... why go through all this trouble? They’d already killed the original Aiden. Why keep targeting the massage parlor? What exactly is their goal?

Just then, I was struck with realization.

The rumor wasn’t just about being so predatory scumbag; it specifically said I went after n and won equally. And that had made people of both genders scared to set foot anywhere near Nolan Street...

Is it possible...

Could there be sothing in my parlor, sothing so important that they had to go to these lengths, start this wild rumor just to keep people away and make sure nobody stumbled onto... whatever it is?

...

A short, plump man with two front teeth sticking out stood in front of a two-story building.

Pasted across the entrance door was a sheet of parchnt bearing the kingdom’s crest, a golden scabbard.

In bold letters, it read:

"The business within this property is closed under investigation. Reopening is forbidden without formal clearance."

"Kekeke, good thing we got word those knights were coming last night," Peter chuckled. "If not, they would’ve caught us red-handed while we were still tearing the place apart."

He then turned to face his subordinates behind him. His posture was slightly hunched, but no one dared make fun of him. "Anyway, Lord Sadis wants us to sweep the place again. This ti, he made it clear that we can’t co back until we find that map. Got it?"

A thin man scratched his head among the crowd, looking unsure. "But sir, we already searched the whole house last night and found nothing. What exactly are we supposed to be looking for now?"

Peter shot him a glare. "That’s your job to figure out, genius! If David hadn’t panicked and screwed everything up, we’d have the map by now."

He spat on the ground. "How the hell did he get scared of a half-dead, beaten-down guy and accidentally stab him?"

Soone else hesitantly asked, "What happened to David? Why haven’t we seen him?"

"He’s dead," Peter replied coldly.

The man who asked instantly froze.

Peter indifferently looked over the group. "If you don’t want to end up like him, then get your asses in there and find that map. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Now move!"

As his n spread out and slipped into the building through windows and the front door, Peter stayed outside.

He looked up at the roof. A pigeon was perched on the ceiling, staring straight at him. After a mont, it spread its wings, glided down, and landed gently on Peter’s shoulder.

For a mont, I regretted giving all the money I had taken from the thug I knocked out to the starving girl. But when I rembered the look on her face, the way her eyes lit up, and the joy in the other kids when she ran back to them with the money, that regret vanished almost instantly.

I hurriedly shook my head, and carried on my journey while gritting my teeth.

...

When I finally entered the West Borough, I was surprised to find it wasn’t as crowded or bustling as I had imagined.

Everyone knew it was the most populated district in the city. But compared to the chaos of the market or the busy dock, what I experienced can be described to be only mildly noisy.

Then it hit . It was already noon.

Most of the residents were probably already long off working or looking for work in other districts of the city. Richie was a perfect example. He left at sunrise every day to unload cargo at the docks and didn’t co back until late afternoon.

Still, a few people lingered on the main street, mostly won and children. It made sense as they were likely the families of workers who had already left earlier in the morning.

And of course, there were plenty of vagrants lining the sidewalks.

What really caught my attention, though, was just how many vagrants there were. Dozens, maybe more, lying on the ground, huddled under torn, rugged blankets, or slumped against walls.

And yet, the people walking by barely reacted. Their expressions were normal, as if they’d long since grown used to the sight. It was nothing new to them.

With just a few words, she took control of the situation.

I couldn’t help but be impressed. The way she handled everything so naturally, with such authority... If it were in her place, I’d have frozen on the spot.

But then I was reminded of her identity.

If she really was the daughter of Victor Serena, her ability to handle a crowd made perfect sense.

Her father was the head of a gang. As his daughter, she’d naturally have so experience giving orders and taking control.

Though, calling it a gang might be a bit of a stretch.

From what I could tell, the Workers operated more like a labor union than a typical criminal group. They didn’t extort protection fees from random people or businesses like most gangs did. Instead, they only collected dues from their mbers, and those mbers actually received real benefits in return.

Based on what I could piece together from my mories, mbership in the Workers ca with certain protections. Employers were less likely to abuse or exploit Workers-affiliated laborers.

There were probably a lot more benefits to being part of the Workers, especially considering nearly every laborer in the West Borough had joined. But the original Aiden hadn’t paid much attention to the details.

’If I really wanted to know more, I could just ask Richie. I rember he’s a mber too. Huh... maybe not all of the Five Rings are bad after all,’ I muttered under my breath.

My eyes drifted to Esther, now surrounded by a group of Radhanians demanding to take the vagrant with them.

The other, nearby vagrants had stirred up from their slumber and now trembled with fear, unsure of what would happen next.

I watched them for a few more seconds before turning away and continuing on my way.

What I didn’t realize at the ti was that, the mont I walked off, Esther’s eyes followed intently. Her hand, which had been resting tensely on her hip, imdiately relaxed.

"Phew... that guy feels dangerous..."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

...

After the stabbing incident, I didn’t run into any hidden quests or unexpected events.

In fact, things were so quiet, I started to wonder if I had sohow wandered into the wrong district... because this didn’t feel like the West Borough at all!

According to my mories, the West Borough was crawling with criminals. You had to constantly watch your back, pickpockets, random thugs demanding protection fees, and if you refused, they wouldn’t hesitate to rough you up or even stab you. On top of that, there was always the risk of being sward by desperate, hungry vagrants.

But strangely enough, I encountered none of that.

’What’s with the sudden peace and quiet?’ I thought to myself, scanning my surroundings.

Soon, I spotted a man leaning against the wooden railing of his house, puffing on a tobacco roll.

I walked over and cleared my throat.

It had beco a habit of mine to clear my throat to get soone’s attention instead of waving or saying hello. Saved the trouble of speaking too much. And clearly, it worked.

The man instantly took notice of my presence, glanced over, and eyed with suspicion. "Who are you?"

"Kekeke, I’m just a nobody," I blurted out, following my intrusive thought.

I initially wanted to try to lighten the mood by starting off a friendly laugh, but what I didn’t expect was that what ca out of my mouth sounded more like a creepy giggle than anything else.

’Fuck, what did I just say?’

As I went deeper into the district, the number of vagrants grew. So storefronts were completely blocked by sleeping bodies, making it impossible to even open the doors.

Amidst my observation, I suddenly heard sothing.

"You low-life bastards! Don’t you have anything better to do than loiter in front of my shop?!"