No one knew how long had passed when someone knocked on the door in the corridor, followed by Elikxil's voice: "Monica, we're almost there. We're getting off soon." Ten minutes later, Owen and Monica, along with Beth and her two friends, followed Elikxil off the train.
The small town didn't look impressive—its train station and the surrounding area were rundown. But there were taxis waiting right outside. The six of them split into two cars and headed into town. Before getting in, Owen noticed the three guys from the train who had been fantasizing about flings also hopped into a cab.
After about ten minutes, Elikxil brought them to a small inn.
"This is the town's only inn," she explained as they got out of the car. The group looked around curiously while following her into the building.
In the lobby, an old TV was playing Pulp Fiction, and behind the counter, a bespectacled young man, presumably a staff member, greeted them politely. "How can I help you?"
"My friends are tourists. They need a place to stay," Elikxil said at the right moment.
"Of course. Welcome to our town. Please show your passports."
They handed over their passports, and the bespectacled man raised an eyebrow. "Americans, excellent. Ten euros per night. Would you like one big room or…"
"One double room and one triple, please," Monica said.
"Perfect. Here are your keys."
He handed over the room keys along with a flyer from the desk. "There's a Harvest Festival party tonight. You're welcome to attend—it'll be lively, with music, dancing, and costumes. Perhaps you'll find something you like…"
"Oh, great, sounds fun," someone said.
It was a pleasant surprise. A local party was always a great way to experience a town's culture.
As they turned to go upstairs and find their rooms, Owen caught Elikxil winking at the bespectacled clerk. The two seemed to know each other.
Owen didn't think much of it—Elikxil was from the town, so it made sense she'd know people. But the smile on the clerk's face looked odd, almost sinister. When Owen looked again, the guy had already returned to normal.
Elikxil left, saying she'd come by later to take them to the hot springs.
As they were leaving, the three "fling guys" from the train arrived. Their eyes immediately and unabashedly lingered on the group—especially the women. The open lust in their gazes made Owen uncomfortable.
He shifted his position to block their view of Monica. The Icelandic guy tried to strike up a conversation, but Owen shut it down with a single glare. The guy didn't seem to care—there were plenty of interested women in the lobby to shift his attention to.
Upstairs, they found their rooms. The inn had an old-world charm, and the rooms looked like they had some history to them.
Coincidentally, the three guys' room was nearby. Even more absurdly, one room next to theirs had the door wide open—two nude, curvaceous women were getting dressed inside. When they noticed the guys passing by, they weren't shy at all. In fact, they invited them to join them for a spa session.
Maybe the Icelandic guy had been telling the truth. The women here did seem quite open. It was clear this town attracted a particular kind of visitor.
The American girls were excited, not tired at all. Hearing "spa," they immediately thought of the hot springs Elikxil had mentioned. Eagerly, they changed into their swimsuits and headed to the spa.
Once inside, Owen found himself overwhelmed. He had underestimated just how open the women here were.
The spa was mostly filled with women—and they were all completely nude. No swimsuits. Nothing.
When Owen and his group arrived, the three guys from earlier had already settled in with their chosen targets.
Apparently, the women here were quite easy to talk to. Though the guys had only arrived a few minutes before them, they were already cozy with some companions—two of whom were the same women who had greeted them upstairs.
As they chatted, the women freely roamed their hands over the men. The Icelandic guy, clearly experienced, had already begun to get handsy, and the woman with him didn't resist at all. The other two guys, encouraged by what they saw, shed their reservations and began to warm up quickly to the attention.
Their laughter echoed through the spa.
Meanwhile, in a basement beneath the inn, the bespectacled clerk was scanning the group's passports, one by one. As he uploaded the data, a silent auction began on his phone.
Mysterious individuals from all over the world watched as the profiles of Owen's group and the three "fling guys" popped up on their screens. Bidding began without a sound.
Soon, Owen's group of five and the three men were all auctioned off. Monica and Beth had the highest prices by far.
The winners looked at their screens with hungry expressions. The hunt was about to begin. These buyers were scattered across the globe, but they all shared one thing: somewhere on their bodies, they bore a tattoo of a hound.
Back at the spa, Beth and her friends began to feel something was off. This wasn't the kind of hot spring they were expecting. They definitely weren't ready to strip down in front of strangers. They left the spa without even getting in the water.
So Owen's chance to enjoy the view was cut short.
Back in the room, Monica was a little annoyed at her boyfriend's obvious gawking earlier. Owen tried to explain.
Maybe it was the energy in his voice—or something else—but Monica leaned in with a sly smile. Owen was pleasantly surprised. She was getting more and more understanding.
After an intense session that left them both sweaty and breathless, the sky outside had darkened.
Owen noted Monica's energy seemed unusually fierce this time. Maybe it was the "spa" that sparked something. Her aggression had flipped the usual roles—Owen felt like he was the one being taken down.
Outside, music drifted through the air. The Harvest Festival party had begun. After freshening up, the two of them joined the festivities.
The party was lively. Some areas were lit with string lights, but most of the lighting came from torches scattered around. Violins and folk instruments filled the air with music. In the center of the gathering, men and women danced passionately to the rhythm of the drums.
It was classic Europa.
Monica excitedly pulled Owen into the crowd. Holding each other, they moved to the beat.
Not far away, a stream flowed gently. With music, laughter, and the crackling fire as backdrop, the partygoers quickly lost themselves in the atmosphere.
Monica spotted Beth and the other girls in the crowd. They too were dancing and radiating energy. With their youth and beauty, they quickly attracted their own swarms of eager admirers.
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