Survival in Akame ga kill

Within a dimly lit alley of the pleasure district, the air echoed with the hushed murmurs of conversations from different groups. 

In such a gathering of men dressed alike, one man stood out with scars on his face and a scruffy beard.

The man was wearing a black coat, puffing on a cigarette while engaging in conversation with a smirk on his face.

“Alright, boys, keep an eye out for any trouble tonight,” a man said, his voice gruff. “I’ve got some business to take care of inside.”

“Hey, why are you beating around the bush, Anthony? Just tell us that you are itching to beat that slut.” A man standing beside him said while laughing.

“Che, during these past months haven’t you tasted her enough, Anthony? Why are you even trying to waste your time on that broken doll? There are other delicacies inside the Palace who will be ready to spread their legs for you,” another man suggested.

The girl they were discussing had been sold out by her father nine months ago, as her father used the woman to settle his debt. 

Consequently, the girl was captured and brought to the palace, where the new right-hand man of their boss who took advantage of her for the past four months.

Once the boss granted Anthony full authority over the girl, her life became a nightmare. Her condition reached a point where she stopped responding, even to severe torture that the people in the brothel heard daily.

“You don’t need to tell where should I put my di*k, as*holes.” The man cursed, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his shoes. 

“The boss has given me full authority to decide what happens to that woman. Do you understand?” He questioned threateningly.

All the men hastily nodded with sweat breaking out their foreheads, fully aware of Anthony’s sadistic personality. 

They knew that if they were even a second later, their heads would be crushed on the ground in place of the cigarette that Anthony had just extinguished.

Anthony snorted as he adjusted his jacket and strode towards the grand entrance of the brothel, leaving the men behind.

The building stood in stark contrast to the grimy alley, its opulence evident from the lavish decorations and the soft glow of golden lights spilling from the windows of the brothel.

As he stepped inside, the atmosphere changed dramatically. The corridors were adorned with rich tapestries and plush carpets, and the air was heavy with the scent of exotic perfumes. 

Music played softly in the background, mingling with the sound of muted laughter and whispered conversations taking place inside the brothel.

Walking down the corridors, Anthony passed several rooms where customers lounged on velvet couches, surrounded by intoxicated women with hazy expressions, mainly due to the drugs. 

A few women giggled, their eyes glazed, while others leaned on their clients, whispering sweet nothings they learned from the seasoned courtesans. 

The scenes inside the brothel were a mix of decadence and despair, as each room was a small world of its own, while showing the unhinged primal nature of humans.

Anthony continued on, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, until he reached the end of the hallway. 

There, standing in front of a large, ornate door, was a burly guard with bulging muscles under his tight white shirt.

“I’m here to see her,” Anthony stated, as a twisted smile crept onto his face.

The man grunted, stepping aside to let him pass. “Don’t take too long. You know what this girl’s main purpose is, don’t you?” The guard reminded Anthony of the boss’s orders.

“You don’t need to tell me, as*hole,” Anthony retorted, cursing the man.

The man who had just been cursed could only grit his teeth, knowing that the man in front of him was the new right-hand man of the brothel owner.

Anthony didn’t even glance at the insignificant man’s distorted face as he pushed open the door and entered the room. It was dimly lit, with a single chair in the centre.

Bound in the chair was a petite girl with light brown hair and attractive facial features, yet her eyes were unfocused and her face devoid of expression.

The brown-haired girl’s body bore numerous blue and black marks, indicating numerous beatings she had endured on her petite frame. Bruises that were visible even in the low light.

Anthony slowly walked over to the bound girl, his grin widening. “Hello, darling. Missed me?”

“...........”

He reached out to touch her, his fingers brushing against her red cheek, which was slightly burned by him.

“You know,” Anthony continued, his voice dripping with malice, “the past few months have been too much fun for me, solely because of you, darling.”

His face contorted, exposing a maddening grin, as he went on, “Out of all the toys I’ve played with, I’ve never come across anyone as fascinating as you. Do you know why?”

“………….”

Hearing nothing, Anthony answered his own question, “Your will to live, which is the strongest among the women I’ve encountered until now.” Anthony’s eyes gleamed as he recalled torturing the girl while injecting her with drugs.

“...........”

Again, there was no response from the girl, her gaze still lifeless.

Anthony’s grin faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. “But it seems the fun is over now as you’ve already broken, and there’s no more enjoyment in playing with you anymore.”

“I would have personally killed you along with the life inside you as a thank you for entertaining me these past few months, but the boss wants you to live. So, instead of that, I will play with you one last time,” he said with a smirk.

With that, he turned and walked towards a small table in the corner of the room, picking up a cruel-looking instrument. “Let’s get started, shall we?” he said, his voice eerily cheerful.

He turned back to the girl, his grin widening as he approached, but the girl didn’t react as her spirit had long since crushed. 

Despite this, Anthony relished the thought of one last session of torment, savoring every moment of her suffering.

As he brought the instrument closer, a sudden noise from outside the room made him pause. He glanced towards the door, his smile fading. “Who’s there?” he barked, irritation creeping into his voice.

BAM!

But suddenly, there was a loud crash as the door burst open behind him and before he could react, something heavy and wet slammed into his head, knocking him to the ground.

Dazed, Anthony looked down to see what had hit him, but his eyes widened in horror as he realized he was staring at the severed head of the man who had been outside the room.

Blood pooled around the head, soaking into the luxurious carpet. Still in shock, Anthony touched his wet cheeks only to confirm that what was happening was indeed real.

He instantly scrambled to his feet, turning towards the door only to see a woman with glasses standing in the doorway.

The woman had an amazing figure, even among the countless women he had encountered. She was dressed in a flowing red qipao, which, despite its vibrant color, had several dark stains of blood.

But Anthony didn’t focus on that much longer as his gaze shifted to the large pair of scissors, their ends dripping with deep red blood but the woman, unfazed by the dripping blood, held the bloodied blades in one arm, the metal gleaming ominously.

While In her other hand, she gripped an kneeling old man by the hair, his face bruised and bloodied.