Led by an attendant through the bustling hall, Tatsumiaino arrived at a door bearing a "No Entry for Unauthorized Persons" sign. Beyond it lay a European-style corridor, its floor laid with golden silkwood and its walls adorned with paintings of handsome naked youths and maidens frolicking beside ponds.
The details in the oil paintings were exceptionally vivid, almost lifelike. A blush rose to Tatsumiaino's face, and he hurriedly looked away.
At the end of the corridor stood an elevator that required a membership card to activate. The attendant gave a slight bow; his responsibility extended only as far as escorting VIPs here.
Amid a faint sensation of weightlessness, the elevator descended smoothly. No other floors were displayed on the screen. It was a dedicated elevator, and the only one that could reach the members' floor.
When the elevator opened again, a faint fragrance drifted in. The serene, rustic notes of a shamisen echoed through the spacious hall. Unlike the European decor upstairs, this place followed a traditional Japanese architectural style. Rather than a bar, it resembled a Zen temple hidden deep in the mountains.
Small groups of guests sat together, speaking in low voices. Tatsumiaino quietly entered, not daring to break the tranquility. Compared to the other patrons, his tracksuit was especially conspicuous.
Unexpectedly, though, no one seemed to care. Tatsumiaino wandered through the hall in confusion, still tightly clutching the golden membership card in his hand. Everything before him was far too different from what he had expected. Left with no choice, he went to the bar in the corner, the only place that did not match the floor's decor.
"Would the guest like something to drink?"
The bartender wearing a court noble's mask asked softly.
"Uh..."
Tatsumiaino hesitated. It was his first time in a place like this,