British hegemon

Chapter 11 Red Light District

In Roger's opinion, this so-called luxurious place was far too rudimentary.

But most of the houses in Brodick were ordinary wooden-framed mud-brick thatched huts with grass on the ground, a hearth in the middle, and a few pieces of homemade furniture.

A wine barrel and a few benches make a tavern; a bed in the corner with a curtain drawn over it becomes a brothel; a table surrounded by a noisy crowd constitutes a dice game.

In this place, the Moulin Rouge is undoubtedly a place of extravagance.

Before even entering, they could hear groans coming from the second floor of the Moulin Rouge. The green-clad bald man immediately showed a look of disappointment. "Young Master Roger, you've come at the wrong time. Today is wool market day. All the pretty prostitutes in the Moulin Rouge have probably been picked up by those merchants. What's left are just ugly women who cost half a penny a night. You certainly won't be interested."

"That's not necessarily true. I've changed my ways, and my tastes have become quite different." Roger adjusted his belt, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"Tie the donkey up and come inside with me." Roger stepped into the Moulin Rouge first.

Despite his words, Roger had no intention of causing trouble at the Moulin Rouge.

It had nothing to do with morality. Roger had lived a life of luxury and had ridden many Western horses in his previous life. This kind of thing couldn't be considered a moral issue at all. What he was worried about was the appalling sanitary conditions of this era. He was so lucky to have been able to live two lives, and he didn't want to die on their bellies.

Pushing open the door, a pungent, musty smell of wine, meat, food scraps, animal excrement, and strong body odor assaulted Roger's nostrils, nearly knocking him over.

The lobby on the first floor is quite large, and a fireplace is embedded in the wall directly opposite, with flames already rising from it.

In the center of the hall were five or six long wooden tables and several rows of low stools. On the wooden tables were earthenware jars for pouring wine, plates for food, and unlit candlesticks. The long tables were already filled with guests drinking.

Several scantily clad waitresses were moving among the guests, serving them drinks and food, and making exaggerated, strange noises when the guests tried to grope them.

On the left side of the hall were a wine cabinet and a cash register, similar to a bar counter in later times. A gaunt old man was calculating accounts in front of the wine cabinet.

To the right of the wine cabinet, two bards were playing a harp, producing a rather unpleasant melody, while they murmured lewd folk songs; in the corner next to them, a drunkard was embracing a voluptuous waitress, his hands reaching into her breasts and kneading them incessantly, eliciting bursts of wanton laughter from her.

To the right of the lobby is a staircase leading to the second floor. Below the staircase, two half-person-high wooden partitions create a "private seating area," which is quite secluded compared to the crowded and noisy lobby.

Looking up, one could see that certain areas of the wooden hall ceiling were vibrating rhythmically, with dust occasionally falling.

The room was noisy, and no one noticed the group of people who stepped in. Roger looked around and pointed to the "private seating area" where five merchants were already sitting.

The bald man in green immediately understood, and led the woman with the bruised ponytail quickly toward the group, loudly ordering them to move aside.

When the group first arrived, they heard that the Moulin Rouge on Arun Island was a paradise, so they stayed together after ending their wool trade.

Since they were newcomers, they had obviously never seen the thugs in green before, nor did they know Roger's infamous reputation. So, relying on their numbers and the influence of alcohol, they immediately started hurling insults at the two men in green, and it looked like they were about to come to blows.

Seeing that their own people were outnumbered, Gray Rat, who was following Roger, quickly joined the fight. In an instant, curses erupted in the "VIP seating area" as seven or eight people pushed and shoved each other.

Seeing that the two sides were about to fight, Roger stepped forward to quell the situation.

"Oh~ no wonder it's so lively, it turns out it's Young Master Roger." A sickeningly sweet voice came from the stairs.

The group of people who were pushing each other stopped immediately.

Roger looked up and saw a woman dressed in gorgeous clothes and with a seductive figure coming down the stairs, holding onto the railing. She had a beautiful face and smooth skin, and was lightly made up, making her very charming. But upon closer inspection, her eyes, which were full of worldly dust, were clear and seemed to be able to see through everything in the world.

Upon seeing that it was the mill manager himself coming down, the bald man in green quickly went up to him with a fawning smile and explained, his tone immediately dropping several degrees, "Mrs. Kate, these few lowly merchants actually disrespected Young Master Roger and refused to give up their seats, which is why we had a little argument. It was absolutely not our intention to cause trouble."

Roger tried hard to recall, but he didn't seem to have much of an impression of this middle-aged woman who looked like she was from a wealthy family.

In fact, this woman, known as Lady Kate, held a prominent position on Arron Island. She was the manager of the Moulin Rouge and had originally been a popular waitress in a Glasgow brothel. Five years ago, she was invited to the island by Roger's uncle, Baron John, to run the Moulin Rouge.

Rumors say she was Baron John's mistress, and there's no need to guess; it's most likely true.

Mrs. Kate didn't even glance at the green-clad bald man. She walked straight up to Roger, raised her hand to touch the scar on Roger's forehead, and then pressed Roger's pectoral muscles with her fingers. "They say that young master Roger of the Colin family has gone on a trip to hell. Judging from this, he's even more muscular than before."

With a lewd grin, she reached her soft, smooth hand toward Roger's crotch.

Roger was completely bewildered and instinctively took a half step back.

"Oh, what's wrong with you, Young Master Roger? You weren't the same person who took advantage of me last month, were you?" He finished with a chillingly seductive laugh.

The arguing merchants burst into laughter, but no one in the hall dared to utter a sound.

While Roger was being held back by Mrs. Kate, a merchant from the town who had business dealings with the merchants quickly approached a few of them, pointed at Roger, and whispered a few words anxiously.

A short while later, the businessmen reluctantly packed up their drinks and tableware and left the "private seating area," squeezing into the crowd at the long table in the main hall.

At this moment, Roger finally remembered that the first night "he" was sent back to the island from Argyll Monastery last month was spent here.

However, Roger only had some blurry fragments in his mind after drinking, which did not form a complete story.

Having teased her enough, the alluring woman regained her composure. "Young Master Roger, speaking of which, the Moulin Rouge is also your Campbell family's territory. You shouldn't break your own family's rules, otherwise I won't be able to explain it to Baron John."

Seeing that Roger was still confused, Mrs. Kate pointed out, "Last time you came here and caused a scene all night, you owed five and a half pennies for drinks."

Roger suddenly spotted the "half-penny" and looked around. At that moment, she was standing not far behind Mrs. Kate, holding a tray and squeezing her large breasts, giving him a shy wink. The little black mole on the corner of her lips twitched playfully.

He shuddered, and also remembered that he had indeed taken advantage of this middle-aged woman while he was drunk that night.

cough cough.

Roger coughed twice to banish the inappropriate thoughts from his mind, then deftly reached into a hidden pocket in his sleeve and pulled out a handful of silver pennies, slapping them onto the long table beside him. He estimated there were at least twelve or thirteen of them.

"I'll replace the rest with beer and food. I'm going to treat my buddies to a good time." With that, he stopped arguing with the middle-aged woman and went to sit at the head of the "VIP seating area."

Mrs. Kate was somewhat surprised; this was not the lecherous young master who had "committed numerous evils" at the Moulin Rouge last month.

"Did it really damage his head?" Mrs. Kate muttered to herself, then picked up the pile of silver pennies in disappointment and tossed them to the "half-penny" maid beside her, asking her to take them to the counter and put them in the account.

The diners in the hall dispersed to drink and make merry.