After the first dance, the show continued with different artists taking the stage. Dante enjoyed the experience more than he liked to admit, and the cause was likely the alcohol getting to his brain. There was no point to taking a break if he wasn’t allowed to get a little drunk, so he had Volcan adjust the filters of his NutrimaCore so he could savor the drinks he kept on ordering.
"You sure can handle your alcohol."
As he was working his way through his third Angel Face, a cheerful voice spoke to him from the side. Turned to check and was surprised to see the dark-haired girl from before. She seed to have changed out of her dancing outfit, though she was back to the sa revealing clothes from before.
"Good job out there," Dante said.
"Thanks. Did you enjoy the show?"
"I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?"
"That’s great to hear." With a big grin on her face, the girl turned to the bartender, raising her hand as she called. "Mama, can I have so Brandy?"
As he was sipping from his glass in that mont, Dante almost spit it out, breaking into a coughing fit right after.
"Huh? W-what’s wrong?"
"Oh my, I guess he just figured it out yet." Free from the custors who had kept her occupied, Sandra walked over with a bottle and two glasses. "Way to ruin the surprise, Camila."
"I... I thought... You were sisters..." Dante forced between the coughs.
The bartender looked to be in her thirties, while the girl seed to be around his age. The two shared a lot of features, so it was easy to tell that they were related. That said, Dante could never have guessed that they were mother and daughter.
His response drew laughter out of the pair, and for a mont there, Dante felt more than embarrassed. Maybe all that alcohol was finally getting to him.
"Don’t worry, we get that a lot," Camila said. "Mama-"
"Camila."
Sandra slamd the Brandy bottle on the counter, and her smile took on a dangerous undertone. Whatever her daughter was about to say, she clearly didn’t want anyone to hear it.
"So," Pouring a drink for herself and her daughter, Sandra turned to Dante. "Now that you know, do you still want that dance?"
"Hm? What dance?" Camila blinked at her.
"Well, you see, William here asked for one." The gorgeous bartender smiled mischievously. "A private dance."
"What!!?"
"That’s right."
The girl gawked at him, but Dante just picked up his drink.
"I haven’t changed my mind." He said, looking her mother in the eyes. "In fact, I want it even more now."
"Oh my~!"
"I didn’t know you offered private dances."
As if to shatter the rry mood they had, soone decided to jump in on their conversation. Dante already knew who they were, having kept track of them with his Absolute Awareness even before they decided to approach.
"Your na is Camila, right? That was an amazing show back there."
A tall man walked over, taking the other seat beside the girl. He was a bit on the muscular side, and going by the expression he wore, it was clear that he was used to having things go the way he wanted. The green uniform and the emblem on his shoulder likely played a role in that. Two of his friends stood behind them, blocking the way.
"Say, I would really like to see that dance again," he said.
"That’s great to hear!" Camila clapped her hands together. "There will be another show tomorrow, so make sure to be there!"
Though she was smiling the whole ti, anyone with eyes could tell that she was faking it. The Castor henchman didn’t seem to get the hint, however.
"I was thinking sothing different." He said, leaning against the counter. "How about my place? Of course, I will make sure it’s worth-"
An audible bang interrupted him, and all eyes turned to Dante, who had just slamd his glass on the counter.
[Level 2 Interdiate Cyborg.] Volcan spoke into his head.
’They seem to have standardized implants. Likely company property.’
The three thugs were already pissed, turning to him with harsh glares. They obviously had yet to notice the kind of ss they were, probably thinking he was just a random tourist. A bunch of Level 2s might be a problem to most people, but at this point, Dante couldn’t even be bothered to take them seriously.
"Say, Sandra." Turning to the gorgeous bartender, Dante spoke with a restrained smile. "You are the owner of this place, aren’t you?"
"Huh?" Sandra was montarily stunned, but the answer still slipped from her. "Well, you could say that."
"Then..." pretending to reach into the inner breast pocket of his jacket, Dante took sothing out of his Storage and placed it on the counter. "I want you to sell it to ."
"What are you..."
No sooner had she laid eyes on the object than her eyes went wide, blood draining from her face. Dante had placed a stack of three rectangular plates in front of her. Each one was big enough to fit in one’s palm and seed to be made from a crystal-like crimson material.
"Is this not enough?" Dante said, taking out two more. "How about now?"
The plates were Neorosteel Shards, the most valuable material on the planet. Each one was worth 250000 Gold, so five of them had a total of more than one million, way more than what a local restaurant in a poor fishing town was worth.
"Of course, you can still work here if you want," Dante said. "I just want to make sure the place is still here the next ti I visit."
Considering the hatred he harbored for all the rich idiots who like to flaunt their wealth, Dante was disgusted by his own actions. Nevertheless, the shocked expressions of the three corporate thugs were more than worth it. They probably thought they were being paid particularly well by their employer, but here they were watching so kid drop a million Gold on a bar he was unlikely to visit a second ti just to flex in front of the ladies. The confidence they had before evaporated, and soon after, they seed to realize that they might have ssed with the wrong man.
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