My Cuckhold System-Chapter 84: I’m Really Here For Business

West adjusted the mask on his face as he approached a building.

His disguise wasn’t extravagant but it gave him the anonymity he needed. In this part of the city, anonymity was currency.

The location he’d come to was infamous in certain circles. It didn’t have a flashy signboard or neon lights announcing its purpose. From the outside, it looked like a rundown warehouse wedged between two abandoned buildings with rusted metal panels, faded graffiti and windows too grimy to see through.

But everyone who mattered knew what went on inside.

This was where gang trades happened.

Where items salvaged from ruins changed hands.

Where relics soaked in unknown energy were exchanged for cash, favors, or information.

Dangerous-looking men loitered near the entrance. Some leaned against motorcycles. Others stood in small groups, smoking and watching the street with sharp, predatory gazes. Most bore the subtle signs of being Awakened with unnatural physiques, strange eye colors and faint fluctuations of energy around their bodies.

West would’ve been tense walking into a place like this a month ago but now his confidence was different.

Even the way he carried himself had changed.

He stepped inside and the interior caught him off guard.

Instead of chaos, there was structure.

The warehouse aesthetic remained—exposed beams, concrete floors, industrial lighting—but the layout was surprisingly organized.

There was q sitting area with black leather couches occupied one side and a staircase led to what were probably private negotiation rooms above. Several counters were arranged along the far wall, each staffed by employees in fitted suits.

Security cameras dotted the ceiling.

And though it wasn’t obvious, West could feel it that there were strong individuals here.

This wasn’t some lawless den... it was controlled chaos.

Near the main counter, a group of men who were clearly from the same gang stood around a metallic briefcase. One of them, a bulky Awakened with a shaved head and a spiky scar running down his cheek, was yelling at the woman behind the counter.

"Do you know who we are?" he barked, spittle flying. "We’ve been waiting fifteen minutes. Fifteen! If something happens to this item because you idiots are slow, your establishment will answer for it."

The woman behind the counter remained calm.

She wore a dark suit with her hair tied neatly back. Despite the Awakened towering over her and invading her personal space, her expression didn’t falter.

"Sir," she replied evenly, "each item must go through the proper evaluation process. We prioritize fairness and safety for all clients."

Her tone was respectful and professional but not submissive like most normal folks would be when standing before an awakened.

West watched with mild curiosity. The other employees nearby looked visibly nervous. One of them kept glancing toward the staircase, likely hoping for reinforcement.

At another counter, something else was unfolding.

A lanky Awakened with slicked-back hair and multiple ear piercings was leaning far too close to a young woman behind the counter. His gang insignia was stitched into the collar of his jacket.

"You’re too pretty to be working here," he drawled. "Once we sell this relic, my cut will be huge. I’ll take you somewhere nice. Buy you real jewelry. Not this cheap uniform nonsense."

The woman forced a polite smile. "Thank you, sir, but I’m not interested."

He chuckled. "You’re just shy. I like that."

"I said I’m not interested."

His smile thinned.

"I’m trying to change your life," he muttered as irritation crept into his expression. "Don’t act like you’re above me. Awakened like me rule the world."

He reached across the counter suddenly and grabbed her by the head, digging into her hair with his fingers.

"Bitch, I’m offering you a favor."

The entire room tensed.

Chairs scraped faintly against concrete as a few gang members stared at the commotion but none moved in to help her.

The composed woman from the other counter suddenly moved.

She stepped out from behind her station fluidly and to everyone’s surprise, caught the man’s wrist mid-grip.

Her hand closed around his arm, effortlessly causing the Awakened’s sneer to falter.

"What the—?"

She twisted and the sound of bones grinding echoed faintly.

He winced in pain as she pulled his hand away from the girl’s head and calmly pointed toward a metal sign mounted on the wall.

~ Once you step inside, you are equal to everyone.

Pressuring someone using your Awakening status is prohibited.

Violators will be banned permanently. ~

Her eyes were cold now.

"Rules," she said simply.

The man tried to yank his arm back but it didn’t budge.

His confusion morphed into alarm.

"You think you can—"

Before he could complete his sentence, she released his wrist and then pivoted.

Her leg swung upward in a clean, devastating spinning kick.

Bam!

The impact sent the Awakened’s body lifting off the ground as if struck by a truck. He smashed through the entrance doors and tumbled out onto the street, landing in a heap among the stunned onlookers outside.

Silence swallowed the room.

For a moment, even the industrial lights seemed too loud.

The woman adjusted her suit jacket, smoothed her hair, and walked back behind the counter as if she’d merely brushed dust off a shelf.

The gang member who had been yelling earlier immediately shut his mouth.

His aggression evaporated while West’s lips curved faintly behind his mask.

’So that’s how it is.’

To operate in a place like this—handling trades between gangs, factions, and rogue Awakened—you couldn’t be weak.

You had to be the strongest entity in the room... otherwise, you’d be devoured.

The bulky man cleared his throat. "Take your time," he muttered.

West stepped forward toward an open counter.

The woman stationed there looked at him politely.

"What can we assist you with today?"

Her eyes flicked over him briefly, assessing.

"Are you here to trade? Sell? Or appraise?"

"Sell," West replied smoothly.

"Affiliated gang?"

"None."

She blinked.

"I’m sorry?"

"I’m not affiliated with any gang."

Her brows knitted together slightly.

"Sir... individuals typically do not possess ruin items unless they’re backed by a group. The ruins are dangerous. Entry requires manpower. So if you’re..."

West tilted his head.

"I’m really here for business... trust me."

His words flowed effortlessly with confidence threading through each syllable.

The woman’s skepticism softened by just a fraction.

"I see," she said slowly. "May I ask what you’re offering?"