Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound (Novel) Chapter 32

C32: Social Club (Part 1)

A large high-rise hotel in the center of Underdog City.

On the 69th and 70th floors, there is a massive club.

"The Burning Suspension."

It is the most exclusive social club where the elite of Underdog City gather.

Here, wealthy and powerful young individuals come together to indulge in their youth.

Expensive champagnes, priced at 100 million gold per bottle, fly off the shelves, and lively music fills the air with its fast tempo.

Unidentified water pipes create wispy smoke clouds, while dazzling lights paint them in various colors.

It exudes an extravagant and luxurious atmosphere, akin to a royal palace banquet.

"Pile it up!"

"Bring it all!"

"Let's raise the tower again today!"

A room situated deep inside the club.

The room requires a six-hour rental fee of 10 million gold and is exclusively accessible to VVIPs. Seven young nobles were gathered there, enjoying themselves.

Champagnes worth over 100 million gold each arrive, chilled on ice.

On the central table, champagne glasses are stacked in the shape of a pyramid.

At the bottom, there are 100 glasses arranged in a neat square of 10 by 10.

Above them, 81 champagne glasses in a 9 by 9 formation.

On top of that, 64 glasses in an 8 by 8 configuration.

Followed by 49, 36, 25, 16, 9, and finally, 4 glasses...

On top of the pyramid, the last champagne glass is placed, completing the champagne tower in the shape of a pyramid.

The seven nobles gathered here joyfully pour the 100-million-gold champagne, "Don Quixote Perignon 666," into the topmost glass, laughing heartily.

And so it goes.

Drip, drip, drip...

The champagne filled the topmost glass and gradually cascaded down to fill the glasses below.

If the champagne ran out midway, the nobles would dismiss it without hesitation and order a new drink.

And so it goes.

From the top glass, the champagne, now full, flowed downward, filling the glasses beneath.

Thus, all 385 glasses that composed the champagne tower were filled to the brim.

One noble laughed and said, "Hey, you guys can drink whatever spills on the table."

Upon hearing this, the waiters standing at the entrance rushed over.

"Oh, thank you, sirs."

"Thanks to you, we can taste such precious liquor and enjoy ourselves properly."

"Tonight, we'll serve you with all our hearts."

The waiters licked the droplets of champagne on the table with smiles on their faces.

The nobles laughed and showered them with gold coins.

"This is the waterfall effect."

From the top, champagne flowed down in a continuous stream, filling the glasses below. Not only that, but the table was also generously sprinkled with champagne, and seven men laughed while witnessing it.

These nobles were the core members of the Youth Council for Civic Affairs.

Although they were just private organizations composed of the second or third generation of local tyrants, their influence in the community could not be ignored.

They possessed enough wealth and power to handle minor government affairs and had the ability to disregard ordinary citizens, although they were still considered nobility.

Having lived in the region for a long time, their families were knowledgeable about the local situation.

Therefore, Baskerville had also granted them a certain level of power and authority to handle bothersome tasks independently.

They also took turns at Baskerville, informing them about the surrounding geography and public sentiment, and exercising a certain degree of autonomy in exchange for regular tributes and taxes.

...In fact, historically speaking, these gathered gentlemen are nothing more than descendants of fallen and declined noble families who were defeated and deposed in the central power struggles of the empire.

Except for Baskerville, who received a special mission from the emperor to expand the borders, the rest of them are considered insignificant.

However, it seemed that the young individuals gathered here didn't think so.

"Rather than being the tail of a dragon, it's better to be the head of a snake."

"It's even more fun here where the eyes of the imperial court can't reach, right?"

"Yeah. I went to a club in the imperial capital last time, but this place is much more extravagant."

"Moreover, the 'Baskervilles' are watching over us here. It's so safe."

"Hehehe... At this point, isn't Baskerville our hunting dog?"

These noble gentlemen, who knew very little about the state of the world, lacked neither wit nor audacity.

While Baskerville was absorbed in expanding the borders, they were rotting away internally.

So, where does their wealth come from that allows them to indulge in such luxury and debauchery?

The main source of income for the local nobles is actually quite insignificant.

At best, it's the meager compensation they receive for tasks such as water distribution in irrigation areas, road tolls, passage fees, and the sale of livestock... Even in terms of expenditure, it's a small reward to be shared with stewards or peasants.

The outgoing money and incoming money are both trivial... However, in reality, they had a hidden source of income.

Illegal slave auctions.

It involved kidnapping and imprisoning those not permitted by the country and selling them as slaves.

Due to the recent active territory development by Baskerville, there was an increasing number of barbarian tribes who had lost their strongholds, and behind the scenes, human trafficking was rampant, deceiving or forcibly kidnapping them and selling them as slaves.

In short, it was about taking advantage of Baskerville's work and scavenging the leftovers by deceiving or forcibly capturing and selling them.

They didn't pay taxes, and the trade volume was steady, naturally accumulating money.

With the ill-gotten gains, these gentlemen indulged in their youth.

Since the money was earned illegally, they couldn't deposit it in banks, so they burned it all in cash.

"The Champagne Tower is full! Go and bring in the girls! Get the ones who are good at entertaining."

The lords temporarily dismissed the waiters.

Then we started whispering among ourselves.

"By the way, it's really great that prestigious families like Mesimadunaro have disappeared. We can play without worrying like this."

"Well, that's only natural. We're playing with our own money."

"It was a good idea to send them away with false accusations. Right?"

"Let's not let those guys join us as members in the future."

They puffed on their bubbling tobacco pipes and wore lazy expressions.

Among them, one lord suddenly raised his head.

"Oh, by the way, did you hear about the new subconsul who arrived?"

"Yeah, I applied for a meeting with him. His last name is Van."

"Hmm, a bureaucrat, right? Van means he's a lowborn or a bastard."

"They should consider it an honor that we're summoning them."

"Heh heh heh, they'll come running recklessly again."

Whenever new subconsuls arrived, they always carried out the "training of junior bureaucrats."

It was nothing special, just a lavish party to dazzle their eyes and keep them disoriented.

And it meant filling the dog leash as a sign of "if you want to follow us in the future, you better listen to us."

The lords chuckled.

"He's called Vikir. Have you ever heard of him?"

"No, I've never heard of him."

"They say he's 15 years old. It's his first time coming out of the family."

"What? He's just a kid?"

"He's a kid, indeed. They say as soon as he came to the city hall, he caused a scene or got into a fight. He must be quite a troublemaker."

"Heh heh heh, then he'll get along well with us."

At that moment, one of the lords came up with an interesting idea.

"How about playing a little prank on him while asserting our dominance?"

He extended his index finger and explained the plan.

"Let's invite him to a big party. Let's have the best liquor and call in all the girls for a wild and proper celebration."

"And then?"

"And then, after the party ends, we'll ask him to pay for the drinks."

The lords burst into laughter at his words.

"That sounds good! It'll be fun."

"Will Baskerville's eyes pop out when he sees it?"

"They should understand that we spend such a large sum of money for entertainment. Don't take it for granted and come later."

"A 15-year-old civil servant wouldn't have money. Even if he reports to the family, he won't find any funds."

"And later, we can say it was a joke and ask him to pay."

The lords discussed how to tease and humiliate the newly appointed subconsul and how to make him suffer, right at that moment.

"Gentlemen! The ladies have arrived!"

The waiter opened the door with a beaming face and entered.

Soon, numerous women looked inside the club room, surprised by the extravagance.

Some of the lords greeted familiar faces warmly, shaking hands happily.

"Hey, you're here again?"

"After all that?"

"Send that guy away. We've been played, damn it."

"Why? I like him because he's cute."

"Hey! Come and sit here this time!"

The women entered one by one into the rooms.

...But wait?

At the end of the entering women, there was something peculiar squeezed in.

Was he just entering his early teens? A boy who seemed quite young.

The way he casually followed the women into the room from behind seemed so natural that even the waiters didn't stop him.

After jokingly scanning the women, the seven lords finally noticed the boy.

"But what's with him? Did they call a male entertainer too? Well, he does have a cute face."

"Huh? Oh, gentlemen, don't you know him?"

"Don't know him?"

Upon hearing that, the lords, waiters, and women all wore bewildered expressions.

Who is this little kid and how did he manage to follow us here?

One of the waiters touched his forehead.

"He came in so confidently that no one thought anything was strange. You little brat! How dare a child...!"

However, his hand couldn't reach the boy's head.


A thick and sturdy sound of something breaking.

The waiter finally noticed that his own wrist was twisted in an odd direction.


The boy had effortlessly snapped the strong forearm of an adult man with his sheer strength.

"What, what is this?"

Several waiters immediately tried to rush forward, but it took less than a second for all of them to end up writhing on the floor.

The expressions of the lords hardened slightly.

"Who is this little brat? Hey, who do you think you are coming here and causing trouble? Do you know who we are?"

"I do."

The boy's voice lacked any hint of emotion.

"You are the scum of society."

There was a perfect lack of admiration, fear, subservience, and even contempt in his emotionless tone.

Upon hearing those words, the lords were momentarily stunned.

Then, they burst into hearty laughter.

"Well then, if they're the scum of society, then we must be too."

"It seems like he knows who we are."

"If we know who he is, that should be enough."

"Kid, who are you?"

The lords were thoroughly enjoying the unfolding situation.


The words that followed from the boy's mouth wiped the smiles off their faces.


The newly appointed subconsul.

Vikir Van Baskerville had arrived in this place.

The lords discreetly lowered their feet from the table.

Then, in a stumbling manner, they stood up and asked.

"Sub... Subconsul? What brings you here?"

"You called for us."

Upon Vikir's words, the lords wore an even more bewildered expression.

But then...

"Wahaha! The subconsul is quite fiery! Who knew you'd come right away like this!"

The atmosphere wasn't great.

Moreover, the lords, who had just been insulted, were nursing wounded pride to some extent.

"Shall we start taming the new recruits?"

"Yes, let's make them pay for the drinks."

"After we grill them properly and seat them, we can ask them to pay for the drinks later, right?"

However, their cute plan couldn't be realized.


Vikir placed his hand on the table.

And then...

Tss, tss, tss, tss, tss...

Baskerville's distinctive crimson aura slowly emanated.

The mana contained within Vikir flowed through his hand and spread onto the table.

The fierce resonance, the violent vibrations.

Bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling...

Suddenly, the champagne in the glasses on the table began to boil.

And then...

Changes occurred in the large champagne tower at the center.


One glass at the very top of the champagne tower burst like an explosion.

Countless shards of glass and champagne droplets sparkled and scattered below.


...Clang! ...Clang!

...Clang! ...Clang! ...Clang!

...Clang! ...Clang! ...Clang! ...Clang!

The four glasses on the lower level,

The nine glasses on the lower level,

The sixteen glasses on the lower level,

The twenty-five glasses on the lower level,

The thirty-six glasses on the lower level,

The 49 glasses on the lower level,

The 64 glasses on the lower level,

The 81 glasses on the lower level,

The 100 glasses on the lower level all exploded and shattered one by one.

The champagne tower collapsed.

Instead of collapsing from the bottom, it exploded in reverse from the top.

Thud, thud, thud...

Countless glass fragments and champagne droplets poured down like a shower inside the VVIP room.

As they got drenched in the rain, the young lords of Sedoga had no choice but to say one thing.

"...We were going to pay for the drinks."

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