"Is he someone you know... I see."
"You may go in."
The gatekeeper spoke into the intercom uncertainly to someone on the other end, then soon opened the door to invite Merka inside.
"I apologize for the offense just now."
"The manager will personally receive you. Just go straight inside."
Merka hesitantly pushed open the door and followed the gatekeeper into the basement.
Unlike the cold and damp dungeon Merka had expected, what greeted his eyes were flowers and wine displayed everywhere, in a romantic, Gothic setting of the castle.
Upon entering the basement, Merka saw a beautifully decorated forked path, with a magnificent bar in the center, showcasing an array of enticing drinks that could make one's feet stop in their tracks.
The right side of the fork path was marked "VIP Only," while the left side was labeled "Service Area."
Both passages led to winding and twisting realms, and as Merka extended his magical vision, he couldn't quite see the end of either path.
The dimly lit night candles on the ceiling exuded a captivating scent of pepper, causing Merka's expression to stiffen as he looked around as if facing a formidable enemy.
He was all too familiar with this scent.
It was the smell of burning red powder.
"The moon sings as tides rise and dust falls."
"A thousand gates close upon arrival."
"To welcome a celestial beauty like you, the inn truly shines with brilliance."
A middle-aged woman, akin to those seen in fantasy movies, emerged slowly in bat-like fleeting shadows. She exuded a gentle charm as she leisurely walked towards Merka.
She came from the left side of the forked path, reciting lines reminiscent of a scripted play. Familiarly, she approached Merka.
Merka's heart skipped a beat. He had encountered many deceiving faces before, yet the appearance of this woman in such a place suggested otherwise.
In the midst of Merka's momentary panic, a warmth spread across his chest, even the stimulating smell of red powder he inhaled diminished. He knew Turing was watching over him.
A gentle touch seemed to stroke his heart, revitalizing Merka's spirits as he composed himself to step away from the woman.
"Bishop Merka, you're on the wrong path."
A delicate surge of magical energy lashed out towards Merka, but upon reaching him, it softened into a gentle rain of cherry blossoms, enveloping Merka tenderly.
From within the cherry blossom rain emerged a dainty hand that clasped Merka's wrist gently.
"That's where the Curseborn are transformed. You wouldn't want to see unfinished goods, now would you?"
Merka turned back using his magical vision, at the forked path on his right, stretching all the way to its end, branched out into dozens of different halls, each harboring gruesome mechanical decorations.
Looking at the nameplates on each hall's door, it seemed to offer every kind of service imaginable.
From cosmetic enhancements for Curseborn, to surgeries and fitting of relics.
It resembled a veterinary clinic, with an overwhelming number of eccentric operating rooms—beyond the seemingly normal surgeries, there were rooms for birthing, even sterilizations for Curseborn, a variety of twisted surgical rooms in abundance.
Merka shuddered and quickly averted their gaze, almost vomiting on the spot.
"My name is Miland Kundera, but you can call me Milan," the person said.
"I am the manager here, appointed by a certain great figure to oversee the Meisha Bar, which brings joy to the people of Pocheng."
"Next, allow me to show you around and experience the services we offer here."
"Don't worry, all services for your first visit are on the house."
"When your visit is over, I will personally present you with the membership card you need. Additionally, I will gift you a Curseborn servant as a token of my personal appreciation."
"And since I boasted of giving you a gift, you can rest assured that our gifts are well-trained and obedient, just as you wish."
"You need not fear her running away, as all our gifts have been bound by chains of a substance called red powder. As long as you carry a bit of it, she will unquestioningly follow your every command."
"Of course, besides tending to household chores, her appearance and figure are also top-notch."
"You can eagerly anticipate the sights and gifts I will show you next. Trust me, you won't be disappointed."
With that, the woman politely took Merka's hand and started leading them slowly towards the depths of the bar's service area.
The woman clearly wasn't well-informed about the nobility and didn’t realize that Merka was a Curseborn, nor did she notice Merka's face turning ashen.
"I've always wanted to have a chat with a theology expert," she chattered on.
"I've been so interested in theology, but I just haven't had the time to study it."
"I wonder if someone managing a bar like Meisha, which has benefited so many people, can go to heaven."
Seeing the embarrassment on Merka's face, the middle-aged woman didn't care at all and simply smiled as she led Merka into one of the rooms in the left side service area.
