Netherlands, a certain luxurious manor.
Standing before a floor-length mirror, Ingrid scrutinized her aging body.
Even with the most expensive skincare products, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes and the slight sagging of her skin served as constant reminders that she was nearly forty.
"It seems it's time to arrange another bath."
Ingrid murmured to herself.
She had always believed that bathing in the blood of young women could preserve her youth forever.
Only by maintaining this outer shell could she avoid being discarded by her powerful husband, the head of the family.
Even though her husband was nothing more than a pot-bellied, incompetent pig in bed, she still had to put every effort into grooming herself and pleasing him for the sake of status and wealth.
Just then, the phone she used specifically for accessing the dark web vibrated, delivering the latest list of prey from Eden Spa.
Opening the phone, she saw several female college students who had just checked in.
The merchandise looked decent; two of the girls, who were beautiful and had hot figures, already had prices reaching a million US dollars.
Another girl with buckteeth, who appeared quite introverted, only had a few minimum-bid offers.
Ingrid didn't care about that; she was prepared to bid on the bucktoothed girl.
To her, blood was blood. As long as they were young enough, it didn't matter.
Just as she was about to place her bid, her peripheral vision caught two other items at the bottom of the page.
She swiped down casually.
It was another young, beautiful girl; the abundance of collagen in her face and her tight, supple skin filled Ingrid with jealousy.
But when Ingrid saw the final person, her breath suddenly caught in her throat.
The young man in the photo had a mixed-race face that possessed Eastern charm combined with deep, sharp features.
With a lock of silver hair falling over his forehead and an aura of cold indifference toward everything around him, he perfectly matched every aesthetic fantasy deep within her soul.
Such a top-tier specimen hadn't appeared on the dark web prey list in seven or eight years.
Ingrid suddenly felt that her thoughts of maintaining beauty and preserving the dignity of her noble household were all cast aside.
Compared to the body back home that had long since bored and even disgusted her, years of suppressed emotions and desires surged up all at once.
"If I could be completely possessed by such a young and powerful existence..."
Thoughts spiraled out of control in her mind as Ingrid's breathing grew heavy.
She impatiently looked at the amount below, finding that the number had already jumped to eight or nine million and was still skyrocketing at a terrifying speed.
"Those damned old bitches!"
The woman cursed with a distorted face and began to up the ante.
For women of leisure like them, no amount of money could compare to physical and mental satisfaction.
After several rounds of frantic bidding, she finally secured the right to dominate this man with a staggering price of thirty-five million US dollars. If not for the Club's strict membership regulations regarding purchase limits, she would have even wanted to take control of that young girl named Patty as well.
When the time came, she would place the girl before them and, in the most primal manner, complete a feverish ritual that belonged only to them.
At the mere thought of such a scene, Ingrid's legs trembled slightly, and her body went weak.
...
—--
Nightfall shrouded the town.
The annual Harvest Festival was being held at Center Plaza, the bonfires dyeing half the night sky crimson.
Carnival music, tapping footsteps, and the cheers of tourists blended into a deafening, bustling roar of excitement.
"Knock... knock knock."
There was a knock at Sephirot's door.
Whitney was standing outside.
She had just showered; her long hair was draped wet over her fragrant shoulders, with droplets still clinging to the tips.
She wore a tight tank top on her upper body and denim hot pants so short they could barely be called clothing.
"Hey, Sephirot, want to head out to the Harvest Festival? Afterward, we could check out the mixed-gender hot spring bath together."
Whitney leaned slightly forward, bracing one hand against the doorframe.
"Thanks for the invite." Sephirot's gaze swept over her shapely figure without lingering. "But I'm a bit worn out from traveling the past two days. I'm not really in the mood tonight. Maybe next time."
While out observing today, he had noticed luxury vanity vans driving into town one after another.
If nothing went sideways, the perverts who had spent a fortune to buy these girls had already arrived.
And the woman standing before him, whose head was filled with nothing but the pursuit of cheap thrills, likely wouldn't live to see tomorrow's sun.
Sephirot had no interest in warning her. They weren't even friends; she was only looking for him for a fleeting fling.
Besides, even if he told her the truth, she most likely wouldn't believe him and would just think he was crazy instead.
It was better to drop the savior complex and respect the destiny of others.
Compared to these people, his attention was focused more on Beth, who was traveling with them.
As long as he saved her at the critical moment and charged a protection fee, she would likely be more than happy to pay up.
This was exactly why he hadn't moved to purge the town yet.
He needed to use these perverts to maximize his own interests.
"Fine, what a buzzkill."
Whitney wasn't upset.
Being rejected once or twice meant nothing to her; after all, at the festival plaza outside, there were plenty of men lining up for a chance to climb into her bed.
He closed the door.
The moment Sephirot turned around, he met Patty's scrutinizing gaze.
"A mixed-gender hot spring bath, huh? Why didn't you go?"
Patty sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a cold, sarcastic snort. "If you want to go, then just go. There's a whole plaza full of women out there waiting for you to take your pick anyway."
Sephirot ignored her obviously jealous tone and walked to the balcony, looking out at the revelry in the distant plaza.
Seeing Sephirot ignore her only made Patty angrier: "You promised me before we left that this trip would be thrilling and exciting, didn't you?"
"And what happened? For the past two days, I've been stuck in this damn room, gnawing on the hotel's inedible food."
"Meanwhile, you're nowhere to be found all day, sometimes not even coming back at night. Listen, if you dare to mess around with some sketchy women out there, you're dead."
Sephirot turned around and looked at Patty's angry face, finding it quite amusing. "I'm just afraid some of the scenes might be too intense for you to handle."
"Hmph!"
Patty looked as though she had heard the world's biggest joke, her face full of defiance. "Don't treat me like a three-year-old! I've seen more demons since I was a kid than you've eaten slices of pizza!"
"If you say so."
Sephirot nodded and picked up his trench coat, throwing it over his shoulders. "Let's go. Put on some shoes you can move in."
He walked to the door and looked back at Patty. "Since our young lady is so brave, I'll take you to see the true darkness of this fairy-tale town."
A few minutes later.
The two of them passed through the hotel lobby and stepped outside.
In a corner of the hotel, the receptionist, who had been whispering to a beautiful woman, immediately leaned into a tiny microphone hidden in his collar the moment he saw them leave.
"Attention, the package is on the move. Notify the cleaner to get ready to work immediately."
"Listen closely: if the package gets so much as a scratch, we're all being fed to the dogs tomorrow!"
(Translated by yourtl.app)
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TL NOTES — CROSSOVER GUIDE
Some references in this chapter come from source universes that may be unfamiliar to some readers. The notes below provide the context needed to understand them without leaving the page.
CHARACTERS
Ingrid — An Elite Hunting client introduced in this chapter, corresponding to a character in Hostel Part II known in the film as "Mrs. Bathory." In the film, she is a wealthy European noblewoman who purchases a victim not for conventional torture but to perform a blood-bathing ritual: the victim is hung naked above a stone bath while she slashes them and bathes in the blood, a practice attributed in legend to the historical Countess Elizabeth Báthory, who was said to bathe in the blood of young women to preserve her youth. The fanfic expands her backstory, giving her a name, a loveless aristocratic marriage, and a motive rooted in vanity and suppressed desire.
PLACES
The Harvest Festival — In Hostel Part II, the isolated town hosts a traditional harvest celebration that serves as cover for the organization's operations. The bonfires, the carnival atmosphere, and the festive crowd create both a distraction and a backdrop for the abductions that take place that night.