The Understated Legend is Back

Chapter 6: Lumen village

Luxury had never looked so evil.

Hidden beneath a mountain range, several hours outside Hawter, stood a place the outside world believed was nothing more than an abandoned wine estate.

It was called Lumen Village.

The wealthy called it paradise.

The unfortunate called it hell.

A pair of enormous iron gates slowly opened as sleek black vehicles rolled into the underground compound one after another. Valets hurried forward to receive expensive cars while attendants welcomed every guest with practiced smiles and crystal glasses of vintage wine.

Marble floors gleamed beneath towering chandeliers.

A string quartet performed soft classical music.

Fine paintings decorated the walls.

Everything about the place whispered extra ordinary wealth.

Nothing about it revealed the screams buried beneath it.

Beyond the grand lobby laid a circular theater capable of seating hundreds.

And every seat was occupied.

Business magnates were in attendance. Politicians. Crime lords.

Even foreigners.

Men whose faces smiled on top magazine covers. Men whose donations built the best of the best hospitals. Men who shook presidents' hands.

Here...

They removed their masks and revealed their true selves. Laughter echoed around the hall. Wine glasses clinked.

Conversations drifted through the air as attendants served expensive meals.

The atmosphere resembled an exclusive gala. Only the stage at the center reminded everyone what they had truly come for.

“...And that concludes that wonderful and sumptuous performance!” The announcer's booming voice echoed through the hall.

Thunderous applause followed. They had all enjoyed that session.

The host stepped back into the spotlight confidently.

He was tall, perfectly groomed and dressed in an immaculate white tuxedo with a crimson pocket square. Per usual, every guest was wearing white too.

His smile was warm enough to fool anyone meeting him for the first time. But for over fifteen years, he had hosted every event held here.

His charm never failed to entertain the guests. His words had the rare ability to turn human misery into spectacle.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” he said with theatrical enthusiasm.

“What an incredible evening we’ve had!” He chuckled. “But I know you,” he paused, his grin widening. “You never leave after only one performance.”

Laughter swept across the audience.

“So…”

He slowly raised one hand toward the ceiling. “…allow me to present tonight’s final guest.”

The lights dimmed and soft orchestral music filled the theater.

“I live for this!” one of the guests exclaimed, causing every other guest around him to burst into laughter.

“Thiss is my home!”

“I can’t wait!”

“Shhh…”

Every conversation ceased. Every pair of eyes looked upward and found a transparent crystal chamber slowly descending from the darkness above.

“Wow,” their eyes glittered with disgusting amusement.

The chamber was suspended by polished steel cables that rotated gently as it came down.

Molly knelt silently inside the chamber. Her long black hair hung untidily over her face with dried tears stains marked on her swollen cheeks.

She had cried more than she had ever cried in her whole life, today. She looked extremely drained.

Her clothes were torn and wrapped loosely around her trembling body.

The journey to the village alone was hell for her. Bruises had already darkened her arms where rough hands had dragged her here.

“Ouuu she looks fragile,” one man said, a smile playing at the corner of lips. “She won’t survive this, I can’t wait to hear her screaming,” his smile widened and he reached for his expensive wine.

“Let’s get this show started!” Another exclaimed, a lot of energy pumping through him.

Molly stared blankly around the hall through the transparent walls of the chamber. Hundreds of faces were watching her.

She could see the smiles born out of sadistic desires, plastered on their faces.

‘These men are sick!’ she thought to herself, unable to comprehend or phantom how human beings could derive pleasure from cruelty, domination, and the suffering of others.

This was not lust. It was far greater.

She could see some whisper among themselves, their excitement palpable in the room and on their faces. While a few focused on their expensive international cuisine.

To them, she wasn’t a person. She was tonight’s entertainment.

She knew deep down that this was the end for her and no one was coming to save her, so she had accepted her fate long ago.

Who in the world could come save her?

Only if a great supernatural miracle happened by chance.

She thought.

Finally, the chamber touched the stage with a soft hiss.

Its glass doors slid open.

No one moved. Not even Molly. She has no strength left.

The host slowly approached, “Nineteen years old,” he announced, reading from a golden card.

“Molly Morgan.”

He smiled pleasantly. “A rather spirited young lady, from what I’m told,”

Scattered laughter.

“Our staff informed me she fought quite bravely on their way here. It pleasing that we have ourselves someone stubborn and with so much determination”

Another ripples of amusement spread through the hall.

He looked toward the audience. “Shall we see how long that determination lasts?” he asked, spreading his arm before letting out a small laugh.

The response came as roaring applause.

Molly lowered her eyes, their voices fading with every passing second. Their voices sounded distant now like waves crashing against rocks far away.

She felt…

Nothing.

Fear had exhausted itself.

Hope had quietly slipped away somewhere between her grandmother’s screams and arriving here.

If this was where life ended… then let it end quickly, she thought to herself.

The announcer stepped aside with a dramatic flourish, “And now, our performer!”

A shirtless, tall man emerged from behind the curtains with a whip in his hands. His movements were calm and deliberate while the audiences welcomed him with enthusiastic applause.

He acknowledged them with a slight bow before stepping onto the stage.

Everything was now routine.

How quickly life could disappear.

From Molly and Nana eating happily in their small kitchen. Simple days. Peaceful days…

To this.

The man grabbed Molly by her arm before roughly yanking her out of the holding chambers.

“Turn around.”

His voice was low and cold.

Molly obeyed without resistance.

He began by tracing the tip of the whip along her neck, then slowly lowered it, delivering light, taunting taps against her nearly exposed backside.

Molly could hear the audience laughing. Their crude remarks and mocking whistles washed over her from every corner of the hall.

“She’s prettier when she’s terrified”

Molly lowered her head. She felt humiliated. She felt worthless.

There was a mental damage this experience carved deeply into its unfortunate victims.

This place didn’t simply break bones.

It broke people.

Her heart cried as she had no more tears left in her eyes.

She just wanted to die.

“Stop playing with her. Whip that bitch!” a fat man shouted, slamming his wineglass onto the table.

“Give us a scream.”

The host chuckled.

“My impatient gentlemen,” he announced, spreading both arms theatrically. “A masterpiece is never rushed. Let the anticipation season the evening.”

The crowd roared with approval.

The whip master smiled. Then…

THWACK!

The whip exploded through the air and landed on Molly’s bare skin.

Her cry filled across the chamber.

Instantly, a wave of excitement swept through the audience. “There it is!”

“Again!”

“Beautiful!”

Several men applauded as though they had just witnessed a flawless stage performance. One lifted his wine and said, “To another unforgettable evening!”

The whip rose again.

THWACK!

Molly staggered forward, barely catching herself before collapsing. The sting burned her skin like fire across her back.

“Get up.”

Her breathing became ragged.

Another strike. Then another.

Each one stole more strength from her legs.

The host paced across the platform with the enthusiasm of a sports commentator. “And she’s still standing! Remarkable resilience!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps this beauty has more resilience than we anticipated.” Everyone laughed.

One elderly guest leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “She’s slowing down.”

“Not yet,” another replied with a grin. “She’s still conscious.”

The whip master circled Molly once more.

She didn’t flinch, nor beg. She had simply endured all these while, but her knees finally gave way.

She collapsed onto the platform, every breath she took became shallow as every of her muscles trembled.

She sighed. ‘God… if you’re still listening…. Please let Nana be at peace.

‘And… please forgive me.’

She whispered under her breath and closed her eyes.

“Get up.”

The whip rose one more time very high, raising the anticipation and excitement of the audience.

Silence.

Then–

BOOM!

The entire chamber shook.

Dust fell from the ceiling, the chandelier swinging like it was about to fall.

The laughter in the room vanished instantly and every head turned toward the massive steel entrance.

“…What was that?” someone whispered.

BOOM!

Another deafening impact echoed. This time, the steel door buckled inward and a huge dent appeared in its center.

“What the hell…”

Everyone stared in stunned silence.

“Who’s outside?”

“Did someone bring explosives??”

The whip master lowered his arm. Even the host had stopped smiling.

BOOM!

Another impact. The hinges screamed and the steel bent even farther inward.

Murmurs began to spread through the crowd like wildfire. Several guests instinctively rose from their seats while others quietly reached beneath their tables.

One nervous laugh escaped from somewhere in the hall. “We shouldn’t be scared…I-I don’t think anyone can get through that door.”

Then–

BOOOOM!

The reinforced steel door tore free from its frame.

It flew across the hall like a wrecking ball before crashing down at the foot of the grand staircase with an earth-shaking clang.

Omg!

“Omg what was that?”

“There’s some… someone standing there.”

The lightning in the hall was dim but enough to see the tall, broad-shouldered lone figure that stood in the doorway.

His face was concealed behind a dark mask.

Who was he?

His black combat uniform were torn, streaked with dirt and fresh blood that clearly wasn’t his but that of the guards that surrounded the village.

A thin trail of blood ran down his forehead, he wiped it away with the back of his hand as casually as another man would brush aside sweat.

Slowly, one of the overhead spotlights shifted, and settled on him.

Molly turned, blinking through blurred vision. “Who… is that?”

“Has someone come to save me?” she muttered under her breath as she tried to focus her eyes to get a clearer view.

But a mask hid his face.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

His voice thundered through the chamber.

Molly’s brows knitted together.

That voice…

Her heart skipped a beat.

“…Chay?”