Chapter 334: with translation of chapter title

The attendant forced a bitter smile.

She bribed the manager with almost all her family's food to get the job serving the VIP in the private booth.

A big shot who can sit in a private booth would normally show at least some interest in her, or even just vent by burning a cigarette on her or hitting her a few times.

"If you don't take me with you, or if there's no trace of me left..."

The management of the Bolaka Auction is extraordinarily harsh.

As long as you can provide emotional value to the guests, you are useful.

If a guest doesn't even want to touch you, that means you've made a mistake at work.

To earn tips from guests, you must use all your skills.

As a newcomer, she only has one chance.

She was placed here only because she is young enough, and her demeanor and appearance are decent.

If she has no value, it means she can only serve the customers on the next level.

Death and injury are just everyday occurrences.

Very few attendants survive more than a year.

Even if she were transferred to a job on the first level, she couldn't accept it.

If she manages to survive working on the first level, her family will starve.

The final outcome is either becoming a member of a slave den, or else dying or turning into furniture.

Gao Tian gave a bitter laugh, and Zhang Tie beside him couldn't help but sigh.

Mo Ling habitually leaned against Lin An's embrace, silently watching a girl her own age.

"Lin An."

"I hate this place..."

She remained silent.

Lin An stepped over her without expression, and Zhang Tie and the others behind him had nothing more to say, so they just followed.

On the smooth marble floor, the attendant looked despairingly at Lin An's retreating back.

The cold beneath her was bone‑chilling.

She silently wiped away her tears, unable to keep from dropping to her knees and clutching her head as she burst into tears.

Before the catastrophe, she was the family's cherished jewel, a standout at school, and a talented student beloved by teachers.

Her father died a year ago, and her mother could only earn a meager amount of food by doing sewing work in the outer city.

Her younger brother became disabled while participating in a grain‑foraging team.

She had thought that selling everything for this opportunity would fill her family's stomachs.

For this opportunity she has already given up all her dignity.

Do you hate Lin An?

I don't know.

Lin An hasn't done anything wrong; in fact, to some extent he's the best customer she's ever seen.

But it's meaningless.

It's not enough to let herself live.

She would rather Lin An be a disgusting villain, a psychopathic slave owner.

After wiping her tears, she prepared to put on the so‑called clothes, her eyes red.

In this man‑eating world, perhaps she could volunteer to become furniture, or please those people, and maybe even exchange for a bite of food to keep her family alive.

In grief and despair, she tremblingly held the door and stood up.

Barefoot, she felt something strange under her feet.

A crushed cigarette butt rolled across the floor.

At the auction entrance, Lin An patiently waited for the organizers to guide him after signing the transaction confirmation.

He and the vole didn't know where the auction organizers had prepared the high‑end hotel.

It's impossible to take Anna back to the inn she previously stayed at; that would arouse too much suspicion.

Guests wearing luxurious high‑end clothing sauntered out, many proudly discussing the items they had bought.

Several obviously higher‑ranking slave owners approached Lin An with their subordinates:

"Envoy, I'm the deputy leader of the Skeleton Slave Group; here's my business card."

"Sir, I'm the quartermaster of the Mantes Safe Zone; perhaps we'll have a chance to cooperate later."

Pure gold business cards were handed over, engraved with personal information.

After the catastrophe, jewelry and gold became so cheap that many people with food even used gold jewelry to pave the floor.

The envoy that Lin An portrayed was overly generous, and his attitude alone made many people's imaginations run wild.

Perhaps Bolaka's high‑ranking officials don't care about him, but to other small forces or slave owners, Lin An is definitely worth making connections with.

After coldly rejecting the banquet invitation from this group, a middle‑aged man in a military uniform gave Lin An a friendly smile:

"I'm the army commander of the Second Army Corps of the Troy Beside Mark Safe Zone; it's an honor to meet you, Envoy."

"I also thank you for helping me vent my anger."

Unlike the other slave owners present, the man before them seems to be the highest‑ranking person there.

The Mark Safe Zone army commander noticed a hint of doubt in Lin An's eyes and explained without concern:

"Envoy, you may not know this, but I personally have had a conflict with Dulandi in private."

"That kid is arrogant; I've wanted to beat him up for a while."

Unfortunately, military duties are upon me, so I cannot be as carefree as you, the special envoy.

Meaningfully, Colonel Ma Ke gave Lin An a subtle once‑over:

"Envoy, our inns seem to be the same."

"Haha, if you're interested, you can join me to watch tonight's slave arena."

"I heard Bolaka brought over a thousand zombies into the city, all strong!"

"Tsk, the last time I watched the corpse battle was half a year ago. Indeed exciting..."

Lin An frowned slightly, yet still chose to refuse.

Although Colonel Ma Ke's status is high, he might know many secrets of this world.

But I know too little; this Ma Ke obviously intends to test me.

Forcibly taking him down for interrogation isn't impossible, but it's still inferior to capturing Bolaka.

No need to complicate things; after all, it's just one evening.

Seeing Lin An decline his invitation, Colonel Ma Ke couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment.

Instead, he smiled indifferently.

He merely glanced thoughtfully at the Mo Ling held by Lin An.

The Mo Ling hidden beneath the splendid black robe looked small.

Soon, amidst the envious gazes of the crowd, the auction's person in charge hurriedly up to Lin An and respectfully handed over two room cards.

The person in charge, dressed like a butler in a tailcoat, hesitated a moment, then pointed at a lady and asked:

"Sir, the lady in your private box says you're very satisfied with her service."

"If the record shows comfort, next time you come we can arrange her to receive you in advance."

"Or if you have any needs tonight, you can simply contact us via the internal phone."

"Moreover, she's very clean; you can rest assured on that."

Lin An slightly turned his head, looking toward the girl whose eyes revealed pleading.

On her fair collarbone, a burn scar from a cigarette butt was unusually conspicuous.

To make the effect more realistic, she not only burned herself but also bruised her chest.

Without saying more, Lin An merely nodded casually.

The cigarette was his.

The other ladies surrounding the girl, seeing the manager confirm the verification, couldn't help but envy the scar on her collarbone, wishing it were theirs.

The girl gratefully glanced at Lin An, then proudly puffed out her chest.

In this twisted world backdrop, they already regard this as an honor beloved by guests.

Put bluntly, even poor grain‑owners can't afford cigarettes.

With Lin An's confirmation, the girl can at least engage in administrative work for the coming year.

Not only will there be no danger, but it can even let her family eat their fill.

All this is to guarantee that, should Lin An happen to come again, he will still see a "brand‑new" attendant.

Gao Tian noticed this detail; he only felt something pressing on his chest.

Since entering the Amoeba Worm dungeon, this world's oppression has pressed on him so hard he can barely breathe.

He would rather face a ghost infant than face the terrifying mutants.

On the way to the hotel, Gao Tian glanced dazedly at the prosperous streets.

Lights blazed everywhere, and one could see pretended‑elegant gentlemen and ladies bustling about.

"Lin Dui."

Lin An turned his head; Gao Tian, seated in the leather back seat, felt as if sitting on pins and needles.

His tone low, he helplessly gazed out the window; the faint perfume in the car masked the decay:

"I feel this world..."

"Rotten to the core."