Chapter 6 Not Your Average Club

• She continued, “There are people twice your age who still don't understand this simple truth. They obsess over things and fight endlessly, thinking they can compete with the world. But in reality, they're just overestimating themselves, never seeing their true worth. You, on the other hand, see yourself clearly. You know what you're capable of. And I believe that someone who knows what they can do also knows what they can't do.”
• At this point, the glamorous woman narrowed her eyes. “Mabel, Club Royale is not your average entertainment club.”
• Mabel remained calm and steady. “I know. My voice is unpleasant. I won't speak for no reason.” If she didn't speak without reason, she wouldn't say the wrong things.
• The glamorous woman nodded in satisfaction. Normally, she wouldn't bother giving tips to newcomers. Anyone who dared to work at Club Royale had to be prepared mentally.
• Yet today, she was making an exception for a janitor.
• Although her position at Club Royale wasn't low, in this dazzling city full of wealth and power, there wasn't a single person there she could afford to offend. Once you step into Club Royale, you have to learn the rules—knowing what should and shouldn't be said; what should and shouldn't be done.
• “Manager...” Mabel hesitated. “I don't have a place to stay.”
• The glamorous woman replied, “From now on, call me Ms. Mikayla.” She then pulled out her phone and made a call. “Joseph, come here. I've just hired a janitor. Take her to the employees' dormitory.” After hanging up, she told Mabel, “Start work tomorrow.”
• Then she left Mabel standing there alone.
• Looking at the employment report in her hand, Mabel let out a sigh of relief. At least tonight, I wouldn't have to sleep on the streets.
• Mabel had been working at Club Royale for three months now.
• As night fell, this overly extravagant city glimmered with neon lights and the allure of excess.
• Mabel had just finished cleaning up a drunk woman's vomit. Although she moved slowly, her hands were still efficient. After finishing, she lit some scented stick and placed it in a corner.
• Her mop swept through the individual bathroom stalls one by one, reaching the last one, which was where the cleaning supplies were kept. It was also where she rested during breaks.
• Everything seemed orderly and well-managed.
• The waiter who had brought her there was long gone, but Mabel didn't care. After tidying up the mop and bucket, she sat in the stall, zoning out.
• Mabel, everything's Mr. Scott's orders.
• Mabel, you're nothing now. Your once-proud family background, your beauty, and your impressive education are gone. Now, you're just a criminal!
• Mabel, be obedient, follow the rules, and don't resist. Mr. Scott specifically instructed us to make sure we take good care of you.
• Mabel, why do you even need two kidneys as a convicted criminal? Donating one could save someone and make up for the innocent life you took.
• Mabel, just give up, stop fighting...
• Those voices echoed like curses, and the faces—twisted, terrifying, grotesque—haunted her. No matter how hard Mabel tried to shake them off, they wouldn't go away.
• “Mabel, come out. Level 6, VIP Room 606.” The stall door was suddenly pulled open from the outside. A server stood there and frowned, urging her to hurry. “Move it. Even top female escorts in this place don't act as high and mighty as you do.”
• Mabel was known for being quiet. Whatever she was told to do, she did. Even when she was bullied on purpose, she never talked back or resisted. Everyone in the venue knew this open secret. If anyone was having a bad day, they could always take it out on Mabel to improve their mood.
• “Hostesses are responsible for their own rooms,” Mabel said, just stating a fact. But to the server, it sounded like she was being rebellious. His expression immediately turned cold as he crossed his arms. “The guest threw up. Are you asking Ms. Luna to clean up something that disgusting?”
• Luna couldn't handle disgusting tasks, but Mabel could. The server didn't care if his words hurt Mabel.
• As expected, Mabel didn't argue. She simply responded with an “Oh.” Her dumb, dazed look made the server despise her even more.
• Lowering her eyes, Mabel followed the server to the elevator. Suddenly, she was shoved out, leaving her confused. The server gave her a scornful look. “What are you doing? Take the stairs. It's only six floors; good for you.” The server glanced at Mabel with disdain. “Lose some weight.”
• Mabel wasn't fat. In fact, she was painfully thin. But every day at work, she was wrapped in layers of thick clothing, making her look bulky and awkward.
• It was clear he was just making things difficult for Mabel. Anyone else would've argued, but this was Mabel. The server was sure there wouldn't be any fight.
• As expected, Mabel obediently went to the stairs. When the elevator doors closed, the server sneered. Useless.
• In the dimly lit stairwell, the only sound was Mabel's footsteps echoing in the silence.
• This was the emergency exit, the fire escape. It was rarely used because everyone preferred to use the elevators. The lighting was faint and ambiguous. Aside from emergencies, there was another use for this place—a secret rendezvous for lovers.