The Consort of the R

A single, painted hand shot out from the ground, grabbing onto the ankle with a desperate force, as if grasping at a lifeline. A shattering sound echoed, followed by a frantic cry: "Save me... save me...",Her pale, slender hands covered her eyes, though she was no longer dreaming. Yet, the scene from moments ago remained vivid and clear in her mind.,These eight top performers have the power to choose their patrons. Anyone who is chosen feels deeply honored, enchanted by their music as if in a trance. Yet, they've run into this nuisance—a child who comes to the brothel every day for free!。