Chapter 183: The Price of Beauty
Outside Yoshiwara, in a dark, desolate corner.
The distant light didn’t reach far enough to illuminate the narrow alley, where only the faint glow of the moon shone.
Zenitsu leapt down from the rooftop, breathing hard. The serious expression on his face vanished, replaced by his usual nervousness.
Deep in the alley, two people were waiting for him.
Ivy smiled at him warmly while holding a set of nearly invisible threads with the tips of her fingers. The other end was connected to a hollow-eyed puppet: the small demon with bluish skin, one of the specimens from the Asakusa basement.
At that moment, the creature lay motionless behind her, without a trace of violence.
Off to one side, Ume leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and a bored grimace on her face.
Zenitsu, holding the courtesan in his arms, swallowed nervously. "How... how did I do?"
Ivy walked toward him with a tender smile. "Very well. You looked like a real hero back there."
The boy blushed, lowering his head. "R-really?"
"Really."
Still, once the shyness passed, a doubt cropped up in Zenitsu. "But doing this... is it really okay?"
"The people who run businesses here don’t deserve any sympathy," Ivy consoled him gently.
"But..." Zenitsu stammered.
Ume laughed mockingly. "What? Got a guilty conscience?"
Zenitsu fell silent.
"It’s just that I feel like... not all the owners have to be bad people, right?"
Ume eyed him sidelong. "Little pervert, do you know where these women go when they get old?"
"Where?" he asked, puzzled.
"Nowhere."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean they don’t even live long enough to get old."
Zenitsu’s expression froze.
"You know what the average life expectancy of a courtesan is?" Ume asked, then answered in a cold voice: "Around twenty years old.
"Not a single one of the owners here has clean hands. The girls tough out the minor ailments, wait for death with the serious ones, get abortions if they end up pregnant, and keep taking clients. That’s the daily routine. The more beautiful they are and the more clients they have, the faster they die."
Zenitsu felt like he’d been struck, frozen in place.
Ivy gave him a pat on the head. "Clearing these people out and putting the place under the master’s management will make these girls’ lives a whole lot better. The master said there’ll be no cutthroat competition and no exploitation. He wants them willing to stay and to draw in more girls, instead of being tossed aside when they get sick or old. Every age will have its own kind of work, and he’ll never abandon them."
"But... can that really be done?" Zenitsu lowered his gaze to look at the courtesan in his arms. "If it’s her—when she gets older, what happens then?"
"The youngest ones need no explanation," Ivy replied. "The ones a bit older can take up giving massages, doing performances, or use their experience to act as tour guides and provide emotional value."
"When they’re older still, they can also handle minor tasks—cooking, cleaning, and tidying up." Ivy laughed. "The master said that in the future Yoshiwara won’t need male employees; their work will be left to the older women. It doesn’t matter if they’re not skilled or if they lack strength—one person’s job will get finished among three. Either way, the only thing the master cares about is the numbers."
She looked at Zenitsu, whose eyes were slowly lighting up, and gave him a soft pat on the head. "Do you think this’ll make their situation better?"
Her hand was soft and carried a faint fragrance of orchids. Zenitsu’s head buzzed and he froze in place. He lowered his gaze to the girl in his arms, remembered the short life expectancy Ume had mentioned and Ivy’s "no competition, they won’t be abandoned."
A warm current welled up in his chest.
He straightened, his back rigid as a board, and the expression on his face slowly turned serious—solemn, even!
He had a sense of mission and pride at his impending part in a great reform!
"Yes! I agree with Marcus-sama’s idea!"
"You’re awfully fired up, Zenitsu-kun." Ivy covered her mouth with a giggle. "We’ll head back today and come again tomorrow."
Zenitsu pointed at his own nose, puzzled. "You two are heading back... and what about me?"
"You?" Ivy tilted her head, looking at him. "Isn’t your business already finished?"
"Huh?!"
"She’s your responsibility now." Ume peeled herself off the wall and shook out her skirt. "What you were promised about being the hero and saving someone has already been fulfilled."
Obviously, this courtesan in the yellow dress was the same one Ume had freed from her wrappings.
She pulled a piece of paper out from her clothes and tossed it into the air. Zenitsu freed one hand to catch it clumsily and saw that it had an address written on it.
"It’s the temporary address of the people from the Kyogoku House. When you’re done with her, take her there."
D-D-D-Done... with her?
Zenitsu’s head buzzed again.
He studied the delicate face of the young woman in his arms, her lips slightly parted and her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her breathing.
Two jets of blood immediately spurted out of his nostrils.
"I... I..."
"You what?" Ume arched an eyebrow. "I was thinking of giving you another one to save tomorrow. Otherwise, who knows how long it’ll take you to rescue this dozen or so people. You don’t want to?"
"I want to! I do want to!" Zenitsu nodded like a madman, spraying blood everywhere in a mix of panic and delight.
Ivy laughed. "See you tomorrow, Zenitsu-kun~!"
With that, the two she-demons and the bluish-skinned puppet vanished deep into the alley.
All that was left on the spot was Zenitsu holding the courtesan, blood streaming from his nose and a goofy grin etched onto his face.
"Tomorrow... tomorrow I’ll get to save two... heh heh..."
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