Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

Walking through the corridor, the lights weren't all on, only a few wall lamps casting a dim yellow glow. The air smelled of alcohol, smoke, and perfume, along with an indescribable damp sweetness, like the lingering residue of fermented desire.

Lin Fang pushed open a door leading to the staff break area. Several waiters were changing into their uniforms and greeted Lin Fang. Some glanced curiously at Chen Feng and chuckled softly.

Lin Fang ignored him and led Chen Feng directly to the door of another office, where she knocked.

An impatient voice came from inside: "Come in!"

The door opened, and inside sat a dark-skinned man with a buzz cut, a thick gold chain around his neck, and droopy eyelids, like a sleepy dog. On the table were a teacup and an ashtray, with cigarette butts piled up like a small mountain.

This is Black Skin.

Blackie glanced at Lin Fang, then at Chen Feng, and curled his lip. "Him? From the countryside, right?"

Lin Fang smiled politely: "He's strong and can endure hardship. Brother Hei, please give him a chance."

Blackie put a cigarette in his mouth and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke: "The opportunity isn't nonexistent. Running a brothel isn't like your country brawls; you have to know the rules."

He pointed at Chen Feng: "Can't you stand properly? Can't you shout? Can't you watch where you're going? Don't come in and cause trouble. If you do, I'll break your legs first."

Chen Feng stood ramrod straight, didn't argue, and only said, "I'll follow your instructions, Brother Hei."

Dark-skinned man squinted, seemingly looking down on his "honesty." He tapped the table: "Alright. Start from the bottom, security guard and general laborer. Toilets, corridors, back door—fill wherever you're needed. Five hundred a month, two meals included. Want to do it?"

Five hundred was a lot in Chen Feng's eyes. He nodded: "Let's do it."

Blackie sneered, as if he'd just picked up a dog: "Fine, go get your clothes. Remember, here, if someone tells you to bow your head, you bow your head. Don't try to be tough."

Lin Fang remained silent, but her fingers tightened slightly. She knew that Hei Pi was deliberately humiliating Chen Feng: by placing him in the dirtiest and most chaotic place, he hoped to discourage him and also to flaunt his power in front of her.

Chen Feng remained calm, as if he hadn't heard anything.

Stepping out of the office, Lin Fang whispered, "Can you hold back?"

Chen Feng looked at the door at the end of the corridor that read "Employee Passage," and said in a steady voice, "I can endure it."

Lin Fang stared at his profile and suddenly felt a little more at ease. She used to rely on herself to bear everything, but that would eventually get tiring. But this man... seemed born to shoulder burdens.

She raised her hand to smooth her hair, her tone becoming relaxed again: "Okay. Let's get the paperwork done today, and you can start work tonight. Remember, don't act impulsively."

Chen Feng nodded: "I won't act impulsively."

Lin Fang looked at him and smiled gently: "It's best if you don't act impulsively."

Chen Feng didn't reply and followed the staff to get his uniform.

The uniform distribution point was in the nightclub's basement, where the air reeked of musty mixed with disinfectant. The warehouse manager was an old man in his fifties, hunchbacked, wearing reading glasses, and when he looked at people, his eyes peeked out from the top of the frames, as if he were appraising an old piece of merchandise.

"New here?" The old man's voice was hoarse as he rummaged through a pile of old clothes and pulled out a dark blue security guard uniform, which he threw on the table. "Try it on. If it doesn't fit, alter it yourself."

Chen Feng picked up the clothes; the fabric was rough, the cuffs were worn white, and the four faded gold characters "Golden Splendor" were still printed on the chest. He took off the shirt Lin Fang had given him, revealing his muscular upper body. His muscles looked like they had been carved by a knife in the dim light; his shoulders and back were broad, his waist and abdomen were taut, and every muscle exuded power.

The old man narrowed his eyes, said nothing, then turned and tossed over a pair of rubber shoes: "Find the size yourself."

Chen Feng changed into his uniform, the shoulders and chest stretched taut, the sleeves too short, revealing his wrists. His trousers were also short, his ankles exposed. He glanced down, said nothing, and slipped on his rubber boots—two sizes too big, making a clanging sound as he walked.

The old man took out an employee ID card from the drawer, wrote the character "Chen" on it with a ballpoint pen, and handed it to him: "Don't lose it, it will cost you fifty yuan to replace it."

Chen Feng took the employee badge and hung it around his neck. The metal badge was cold, and against his chest, it felt like a branding iron.

"Alright, go on up." The old man waved his hand. "Work starts at six in the evening and ends at two in the morning. Don't be late, or you'll get a pay cut."

Chen Feng nodded and turned to leave.

The old man suddenly called out to him again: "Young man."

Chen Feng turned around.

The old man looked at him from the top of his glasses, his eyes cloudy yet sharp: "Here, talk less, do more. Don't look around aimlessly, don't listen to anything carelessly. Live long."

Chen Feng paused for two seconds, then nodded: "Understood."

He walked up the stairs, his rubber boots making a dull thud on the concrete steps. The chill of the basement gradually faded, replaced by the cloying sweetness of a nightclub—perfume, alcohol, and a faint scent of cosmetics.

Back in the staff break room, several waiters were putting on makeup. Seeing Chen Feng's attire, someone chuckled.

"Hey, new security guard? Is that uniform for kidnapping kids?" A girl with dyed blonde hair covered her mouth and laughed, her eyes scanning him up and down.

An older woman next to her patted her on the shoulder and said, "Say less." Then she smiled at Chen Feng and said, "Don't mind her, she's just being cheeky."

Chen Feng didn't speak, but found a chair in the corner and sat down. He sat very upright, with his hands on his knees, like a soldier waiting for orders.

A blonde girl approached, her perfume overpowering: "Hey, what's your name? Did Sister Fang bring you?"

Chen Feng glanced at her and said, "Chen Feng."

"Chen Feng..." the girl read it aloud, grinning, "My name is Xiao Li. I'll protect you from now on."

Chen Feng didn't reply, his gaze falling on the employee handbook hanging on the opposite wall, reading it line by line.

Xiaoli, feeling rebuffed, pouted and walked away, muttering to the person next to her, "What are you pretending for, you country bumpkin?"

Chen Feng heard it, but didn't react.

Around 4 PM, the nightclub started to bustle. The kitchen staff were preparing food, the waiters were setting up tables, and the sound engineer was adjusting the equipment. Chen Feng was called to move some drinks—cases of beer and spirits were brought in through the back door and piled up in the warehouse.

He carried two boxes at a time, his steps steady, his breathing even. He made several trips back and forth without breaking a sweat.

The warehouse manager nodded in approval: "Young man, you're quite strong."

After moving the bottles of liquor, Blackie sauntered over, a toothpick dangling from his mouth, and looked Chen Feng up and down: "Not bad, you didn't slack off. Go clean the toilet."

Chen Feng looked up: "The toilet?"

"What, you don't want to?" Dark-skinned man sneered. "Security guard and handyman. Handymen do this kind of work. If you don't want to do it, get out."

Several waiters nearby glanced over furtively, their eyes filled with sympathy and amusement.

Chen Feng didn't argue, but picked up the mop and bucket from the corner: "Which toilet?"

"Everything." Dark-skinned man grinned. "Men's and women's restrooms on the first floor, and the VIP area on the second floor. Clean them thoroughly; I'll check later. If any spot isn't clean, half your pay will be deducted tonight."

Chen Feng carried the bucket and left.

Xiaoli leaned close to Heipi and whispered, "Brother Heipi, you're too ruthless! There are so many toilets, how long will it take him to finish all that work by himself?"

Dark-skinned man glanced at her sideways: "Feeling sorry for him? Why don't you go help him?"

Xiaoli quickly waved her hand: "I'm not going, it stinks!"

Hei Pi watched Chen Feng's retreating figure and snorted, "I'll have to take good care of the people Sister Fang brought."

Chen Feng went to the men's restroom on the first floor first. The floor was littered with cigarette butts, one of the urinals was clogged, and yellowish water was overflowing, emitting a pungent smell. He rolled up his sleeves and pulled out the blockage—a few used condoms, a sticky mess.

Without batting an eye, he threw it into the trash can and started scrubbing the pool.

Halfway through the session, two drunken customers walked in, clearly from last night's party. One of them, seeing Chen Feng, grinned and said, "Hey, new here? You're pretty strong."

Chen Feng lowered his head and continued scrolling, ignoring him.

The man got excited, walked over to him, and deliberately spat into the pool: "Help me rinse it off."

Chen Feng stopped moving and looked up at the man.

His eyes were cold, like stones in the mountains in winter.

The customer felt uneasy under their gaze, but still retorted defiantly, "What are you looking at? Just do what I told you to do!"

Chen Feng didn't say anything, turned on the tap, and rinsed the pool clean. Then he continued scrubbing the pool as if nothing had happened.