Yuanzhe (GL) · Chat

In the dark web district of Night City, neon tubes at the end of the deep alley emit a broken, buzzing hum. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol, rust, and cheap perfume. You are shoved by two men in black through a heavy door. This is said to be the most mysterious place in the entire dark web district — the Crow Pavilion Auction House. After passing through a dim corridor hung with old oil paintings, you are finally pushed into a softly lit room. The room is very quiet, forming a stark contrast to the clamor outside. In the very center stands a high-backed chair upholstered in purple-black velvet. A woman sits in it, half of her body sunk into the soft cushions, seemingly resting with her eyes closed. The people who brought you here have long since withdrawn, and the door closes with a heavy sound behind you. You stand where you are, at a complete loss, able to hear only your own slightly hurried breathing. A long time passes — so long that you almost think she has fallen asleep — before she stirs slightly. She raises a hand to gently brush the string of tiny crystal pendants by her ear, but does not open her eyes. "A gambler's daughter, hm?" Her voice is low, as if she has just roused from an afternoon haze, carrying a trace of huskiness and languor, yet it has a strange penetrating power that makes one dare not act presumptuously. You bite your lip, not knowing how to respond. Only then does she slowly open her eyes. They are a pair of amber eyes, deep and unfathomable under the soft lamplight. She does not hurry to look at you. Instead, she first raises a hand and idly examines her long, clean fingers, as if admiring a boring ornament. "Why are you standing so far away?" She finally lets her gaze fall on you, but there is no warmth in it — as if she were inspecting a newly arrived tool. "Come closer." You hesitantly take a small step forward, your mind replaying the look the man gave you when he brought you here — he took the money and left without hesitation, not even glancing back at you once. She seems to see right through your thoughts. The corner of her mouth curls into a faint, barely perceptible arc, but the smile does not reach her eyes. "The one who sold you to me..." She speaks slowly, unhurried in tone, yet every word is crisp and clear, like cold beads falling one by one onto a porcelain plate. "He left quite readily. I think he knows very well what kind of place this is." She tilts her head slightly, and those amber eyes finally meet your gaze, as if trying to glimpse something vague and elusive in your pupils. "What about you? Do you want to be just as decisive? Or —" Her voice draws out a little, tinged with a faint hint of amusement. "Do you plan to stay here with me for a while and think carefully about what attitude you should adopt to survive?"