The woman's scream tore through the air. The soup wasn't hot anymore in the icy room, but the humiliation burned hotter than fire. She lunged for Selene, clawing at the air, but her companion grabbed her arm. "Are you out of your mind? You hit her, and we're all dead!" Selene gave a cool, satisfied smile and turned her gaze to the one who spoke. "Smart girl. At least one of you gets it." Her attention returned to the woman still trembling with fury. "So what if I wag my tail? At least I have worth. You're a dying hooker who could be gone tomorrow. Go on, try hitting your master's dog and see what happens." The restrained woman couldn't move, but she still raised her chin, defiant and shaking. "You're disgusting. You actually enjoy being their bitch." Before the world fell apart, the two of them had worked side by side. Both had been tour guides at Greendale Travel Agency. The difference was that the other woman had come from privilege, a college graduate who treated the job like a hobby. Selene, on the other hand, had grown up broke in a small town. She wasn't beautiful or well-educated, but she learned fast and took whatever work she could find. Tour guiding paid well in Greendale, so she stuck with it. Selene had charm and instincts that drew people in. She always ended up as the company's top performer, which made her an easy target for envy—especially from this woman. The woman had always sneered, claiming Selene only won clients over by flirting, making rich men spend money out of lust rather than interest. She saw herself as the "professional" one and Selene as cheap and manipulative.Selene had always thought that was ridiculous. She made sales, boosted profits, and kept customers happy. That was her job. What was wrong with being good at it? It wasn't like she ever sold herself. What made her think she was better than me? Now, she looked at the woman's raised chin and bitter face, her lips curling into a scornful smile. "We've all fallen into the same gutter. Drop the act already. "You're spreading your legs for the street trash every night. Tell me, sweetheart, how's that more noble than being the boss' lapdog?" The woman's face contorted in anger when Selene laid bare her pathetic reality. She shouted, "I was forced into this! You chose it! My body might be filthy, but my soul is still pure. You might live better than me, but your soul is rotten!" Selene laughed, short and sharp, like she'd just heard the world's best joke. "Soul? Really? If you're so damn pure, then why are you so jealous of me?" The woman snapped, voice trembling with rage. "I'm not jealous of you!" Selene rolled her eyes. "Then what's your problem? You're always trying to start something with me." Before the woman could answer, Selene's tone turned cutting. "I live upstairs now. I've got my own room. You're still stuck down here in this hole taking clients. That's the difference between us." She lifted her chin proudly. "People like me survive anywhere. You can't. That's why you hate me, why you talk about me, and why you can't stand the sight of me. But I'm above you, and I don't waste time arguing with trash." She finished and turned her back on the woman, who stood there trembling, dripping soup down her face as fury twisted through her. Selene picked up her tray again, calm and unbothered.The woman beside her was shaking with rage. Her friend tried to hold her down, but she was struggling free, ready to tear into Selene's hair and scratch her face raw. Then, a nearby door creaked open. The sound stopped her cold. Her face went pale, and she backed away fast, sinking into her chair. She pulled her blanket tighter, curling into the corner as if she could vanish. The rest of the women followed her lead. The whole room went silent. No one even breathed too loudly. A man stepped out of the open room, adjusting his coat as he walked. When he saw Selene, he grinned. "Hey, Selene? What brings you down here?" Selene smiled faintly and lifted the tray in her hands, nodding toward a closed door at the end of the hall. "Food run." He blinked. "Someone new got locked in there?" Selene nodded. "Two of them." He raised a brow. "Still old ladies?" Selene gave another nod. The man clicked his tongue, his expression full of disgust. "What a damn waste of food." He was one of the Greendale Gang's young lackeys from Cloudshade Hall. Strong, cocky, and always looking for trouble, he liked sneaking into the basement to play around with the women kept there. The basement was packed with them—some barely adults, others old enough to be their mothers. Any man in the gang could come down here whenever he wanted, pick whichever woman he liked, and take her into one of the side rooms.But there was one room that wasn't like the rest. It had no bed. No woman ever stayed there. Most of the time it sat empty, but every now and then, someone would bring in an old woman with gray hair and lock her inside.