Mr. George Green

Sifa did not act right away. He took a prepared tin cigarette case from his pocket, removed a cigarette, held it between two fingers of his left hand, and put it to his lips. Only then did he take out a box of matches and light it.

He took a small, slow drag. The smoke burned his mouth, and he nearly coughed.

The cigarettes in this world are harsher than any I smoked in my past life!

Sifa suppressed the cough and kept a smile on his face. Being an actor isn't easy.

He blew a smoke ring and swept an apparently casual glance over the women. Then he spotted a girl of fifteen or sixteen and froze. His earlier feeling that this was "a man's paradise" vanished.

Working in a place like this at her age... There must be plenty of filth hidden behind Backlund's glittering facade.

He wanted to look away. He could not bring himself to think of someone so young as a prostitute; she reminded him of his little sister at home.

They're the same age, yet their lives couldn't be more different. Damn this world!

But...

Sifa remembered the character he was playing. George Green had a particular fondness for young women, especially those between sixteen and twenty. Whenever he saw one, he could hardly tear himself away.

With no other choice, Sifa kept staring at the girl and let his smile widen. Inside, though, he felt no joy—only a heaviness he could not describe.

"You look like it's your first time at the Golden Rose, sir."

A woman approached him. She was alluring, her eyes full of invitation. Her dress was strikingly bright, and heavy makeup concealed the fact that she was no longer young.

Sifa looked at the girl a few more times