Soul system:Return Of The SSS-Ranked Troublemaker-Chapter 49: Game Of Fate (7) Pleasure.

"I’m a big fan of your family," Hyungseok said, a cold grin crawling across his lips, the kind that made the room feel just a little heavier.

Zion leaned back slightly, arms crossed, eyes calm but sharp. "So you already know who I am," he said, his tone laced with confidence, almost amused.

Hyungseok chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. "Of course I do. I wouldn’t hand over a hundred million won without doing my homework. Zion Asyphre—the only son of the prestigious Asyphre couple. You’re not just anyone."

Zion raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Then you must also know I’m not foolish enough to accept just any deal."

"Naturally," Hyungseok replied smoothly. "That’s why I’m offering you one with interest. Thirty percent. Annual increase."

Zion’s expression didn’t change, but his mind worked quickly. Thirty percent a year... If I leave this place in two years, that’s sixty percent total. Harsh terms... but manageable.

He extended his hand with a firm grip. "Deal."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, serious and heavy. Hyungseok met his handshake with a sly smile. "Pleasure doing business."

Yin, who had been quietly watching from the side, narrowed her eyes. A hundred million won... with sixty percent interest? Isn’t that insane?

Her thoughts ran wild. I knew Zion came from money, but this? This is a whole new level of rich. Like... "I don’t care about interest" rich. Still, whatever. Not my business.

With a snap of his fingers, Hyungseok signaled his men. The doors opened and two suited guards entered, each carrying a large, black suitcase. They placed them on the table with precision and popped them open.

Stacks upon stacks of clean, crisp bills were revealed.

"Fifty million per case," Hyungseok said coolly. "If you don’t trust us, we’ve got a money counter in the back."

Zion glanced at the bills but didn’t even flinch. "There’s no need. I trust you."

Hyungseok leaned back, clearly satisfied. "That’s what I like to hear. Anyway, I’ve got other matters to attend to." He gestured at the two beautiful women flanking him, both giggling and clinging to his arms. "Enjoy your spending spree~"

Zion nodded, calm and composed. "Enjoy yourself."

As the doors closed behind them and they stepped into the hallway, Yin finally spoke. "So... what exactly are we going to use that money for?"

Zion didn’t hesitate. "To survive."

"To survive?" she echoed.

"Stealing and fighting just to live day-to-day is inefficient. If they expect us to stay alive in a warzone, they should at least give us better training grounds. We’ll make our own."

"I see..." Yin muttered, still trying to wrap her head around it all.

"Come to think of it, I’ve never seen heroes on the news battling it out in a desert... That’s just poor strategy," she thought. "And fighting in the ocean? That’s practically suicide unless your ability is built for it."

She looked at Zion again, now walking ahead, the suitcase in hand, posture straight and unbothered.

"Just how far ahead is this guy thinking?"

"What should we do now?" Yin asked, his eyes scanning the bustling street outside the alley.

Zion tucked the briefcases tighter under his arms, his expression calm but focused. "We’ll probably need to rent a large condo... or better yet, a house. Something big enough to fit all ten of us and equipped with space for training gear."

Yin nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. We’ll need room if we’re staying for long."

Meanwhile, back inside the Hyungseok Loan building, one of the women lounging beside the flamboyant loan shark pouted, swirling a wine glass in her manicured fingers. "Oppa, why’d you give that guy so much money~?"

The other girl scooted closer, resting her chin on Hyungseok’s shoulder. "Right? You don’t even spend that kind of cash on us when we go shopping!"

Hyungseok didn’t look at them—his eyes were still on the closed door Zion and Yin had walked through moments ago. A slow, smug grin crept across his face. "Because guys like him—rich brats living off their mommy’s cash—burn through money like it’s nothing. He’ll blow that hundred mil fast, and when he does? He’ll be back. That’s how we keep ’em on a leash."

"But you didn’t even make him sign anything..." one of the girls said, brows furrowed. "What if he runs off?"

Hyungseok finally turned to face them, his expression exuding confidence. "It was all recorded. If he tries to pull anything stupid, I’ll release the footage online, play the victim, and let the internet do its thing. Public sympathy is cheap nowadays—people believe anything if you cry hard enough."

He leaned back, stretching as he popped a grape into his mouth, the smugness never leaving his face. "Manipulating people is a business, and I’ve mastered it."

Outside, Zion and Yin exited the alley, their steps brisk under the dim glow of neon signs. The scent of alcohol, perfume, and grilled street food hung thick in the air. But just as they turned a corner, something... strange caught their attention.

A man standing outside one of the red-lit establishments was frozen mid-motion, one hand still reaching toward a cigarette. Beside him, a hostess in a glittering dress stood unnaturally still, her eyes wide open but unblinking.

Zion stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing. "What...?"

Yin immediately stepped closer, his voice low and cautious. "Let’s not mess with this, man. Something about this place feels... off."

Zion took one last glance at the frozen figures, a chill running up his spine, then gave a quiet nod. "Yeah. Let’s get out of here."

Without another word, the two slipped back into the flow of the city, unaware that the strange stillness they’d witnessed was only the beginning of something far more dangerous.

Zion and Yin wandered through Jeju City’s vibrant streets, their footsteps dragging from exhaustion as they scoured the area for a place to stay. Each hotel they passed had its own bizarre theme, leaving them bewildered.

"Yo, this room looks like something out of a medieval castle!" Zion said in amazement, peering through the glass of one hotel lobby where suits of armor and old stone walls gave off a regal but eerie vibe.

"Look, Zion! A candy-themed room!" Yin pointed toward a building painted with pastel colors, giant lollipops lining the entrance. "It’s like sleeping inside a sugar rush."

Zion chuckled—until they stumbled upon another place.

The lights were dim. Red. Chains decorated the walls like art. In the window was a display of whips and leather straps.

"Huh... this place has medieval stuff too, right?" Zion said, confused.

Yin squinted. "Yeah, but... why are those shackles padded?"

They stepped closer and examined the decor more carefully.

"...Wait," Yin said slowly, his voice falling flat. "Is this... a sex dungeon?"

Zion’s eyes widened. "Oh god. It is."

As they looked around in horror, they noticed more of the "torture methods"—ropes, collars, clamps—all designed with a disturbingly pleasurable twist.

"We’re leaving," Yin muttered.

"Agreed," Zion said with a deadpan tone, already turning away like he’d seen the gates of hell.

After hours of checking hotels, motels, and questionable "theme rooms," the two slumped down on a shaded sidewalk corner, panting like runners at the end of a marathon.

"We’ve been walking for hours..." Zion grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow.

"And every place was either too expensive or... terrifying," Yin added, recalling the candy room that smelled suspiciously like regret.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.

"You look for room? Cheap?"

They looked up.

A large man in a pristine white suit stood before them, his belly barely restrained by the buttons on his vest. A vibrant, multicolored scarf was wrapped around his neck, and his single monocle glinted under the city lights. His curled mustache gave him the classic look of a shady salesman—or an eccentric businessman from a cheesy drama.

His English was broken, but understandable. The smirk on his face told them he’d been watching them for a while.

"You... want nice room? Good deal for foreign students~," he added, his grin widening.

Zion and Yin exchanged a look.

"...Should we be concerned?" Yin whispered.

"Absolutely," Zion muttered, "but I’m too tired to care."

Meanwhile — K and the Emo Guy’s POV

Both of them had their faces wrapped tightly with pieces of cloth, disguising their identities as they briskly exited the back hallway of a building. The dim, flickering lights of the alley barely lit their path.

"Oh my god, this is way too tight!" K grumbled, beads of sweat trickling down his temple. He adjusted the cloth slightly, his voice muffled beneath it.

Behind him, the emo guy whispered, "Should we go now? I can’t keep my ability activated for much longer..."

"Just wait, let me—oooooOOOOH~" K suddenly shivered mid-sentence, as if relishing in something far too satisfying. He exhaled deeply, buttoning his shirt and zipping up his pants. "Okay, now we go," he said, finally composed.

The emo guy, slightly red in the face, simply nodded.

The two slipped out of the building, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind them with a loud bang. A flickering neon sign above it read: "Pleasure City."

Once outside the alleyway, the emo guy finally dropped his ability—his presence suppression flickering out like a shadow being snuffed by light. Both men pulled off the cloth wraps covering their faces and breathed in the fresh night air.

"...Wouldn’t they recognize us?" the emo guy asked, his voice low and uneasy.

"We were paying customers," K replied casually, flashing a shameless smirk. "They’ll be too busy counting cash to care."

He tossed the cloth into a nearby dumpster without a second thought and strolled down the street as if they hadn’t just exited one of the most questionable buildings in Jeju City.

The emo guy followed behind in silence, still carrying a flicker of guilt in his eyes.