The Consort of the R

As the sun sets in the west, the evening glow paints the sky with a myriad of crimson hues.,A single, painted hand shot out from the ground, grabbing onto the ankle with a desperate force, as if grasping at a lifeline. A shattering sound echoed, followed by a frantic cry: "Save me... save me...",These eight top performers have the power to choose their patrons. Anyone who is chosen feels deeply honored, enchanted by their music as if in a trance. Yet, they've run into this nuisance—a child who comes to the brothel every day for free!。