As Owen and Monica danced passionately in the middle of the crowd, Beth had already slipped away from the dance floor. She spotted Elikxil in the crowd and happily waved to her.
The party wasn't just about music and dancing—some participants were dressed in bizarre costumes. In certain corners of the event, performers dressed as medieval executioners wore bull-headed masks and carried massive axes, swinging them through the air as if they could behead someone at any moment.
The torches, weapons, and executioners formed a stark contrast with the festive atmosphere, creating a peculiar charm.
Surrounding the party were several local vendors selling masks and medieval-style swords, which were quite intriguing.
Beth was feeling a bit sulky as she watched her two best friends. They had all agreed not to hook up with guys that night, but as soon as the party started, each had paired off with someone, while the most beautiful of them—Beth herself—was still alone. With her looks, there was no way she hadn't drawn attention. She just couldn't shake the sense of unease lingering in her chest, stopping her from letting loose.
After a while of dancing, Owen got thirsty. Hearing that a group of local kids were selling juice, he told Monica he was heading over to grab some.
The exotic vibe of the party was mesmerizing. Some of the masks sold at nearby booths were quite nice—Owen picked out two to bring back as gifts for Amanda and Kim.
What he didn't know was that in the shadows, a group of international auction winners were lurking at the edges of the party, closely observing their prey. One by one, they sized up their targets with gleaming eyes, eager for the hunt ahead. Learning about their targets would make the "game" more thrilling for them later.
Owen had no idea that he and the others were being stalked by a bunch of psychos. He'd just bought two cups of juice for a euro, and after tasting it, found it pretty decent.
As he returned with the drinks, he spotted the three guys from earlier walking back to the inn, each with a woman in their arms. The Icelandic guy's hand was still roaming shamelessly over his girl's backside.
Apparently, while he and Monica had been working up a sweat indoors, these guys had scored their own victories.
Elsewhere, Lorna was getting cozy with a bearded hunk, while Whitney was entangled with a short-haired young man. Judging by how close they were, there was no doubt they'd be clapping hands that night.
Only Beth sat alone, quietly observing everything. Though men had tried to approach her, she brushed them off with just a few words. Even more strangely, Elikxil—who was a model—seemed completely ignored by everyone, as if no one could see her.
Returning to the dance floor, Owen found a man now standing beside Monica. These vultures really didn't waste any time. He'd been gone just a few minutes and already someone had moved in on his girl.
It was a middle-aged man, clearly not a local—probably another tourist. Monica appeared to be chatting with him quite comfortably. Owen walked over and deliberately made his presence known: "Babe, here's your juice."
Monica giggled and took the drink, clearly aware of why Owen was acting this way—she loved seeing him jealous.
She gave him a sweet kiss on the lips and smiled as she turned to the man. "Mr. Stuart, I'm sorry, my boyfriend's back—I have to go."
The middle-aged man didn't seem offended. In fact, he smiled politely. "Not at all. It's a small town—we're bound to run into each other again, Monica."
The couple suddenly stopped. Monica furrowed her brows. "How do you know my name? I don't remember telling you."
"Oh, I heard your friends call you that."
Owen and Monica walked away, both unsettled. Something about this "Stuart" felt off.
Instead of returning directly to the inn, they strolled through the town. The night scenery was beautiful. Although most people were at the party, several couples were also enjoying the quiet streets.
As they turned a corner, they spotted a young couple surrounded by a group of children. Curious, Owen and Monica paused to watch.
The kid leading the group reached out his hand and shouted, "Dollar!"
Though the others remained silent, their sticks gave off a threatening vibe. Despite being no more than ten years old, the way they held their weapons suggested they weren't just playing.
The couple laughed, thinking it was a cute act, and Owen and Monica chuckled from the distance as well—how bold must these kids be to pretend to mug adults? It was almost amusing.
But what happened next wiped the smiles from their faces.
Without a word, the kids began striking the couple with their sticks—and they weren't joking. These were real blows, aimed at their heads. The man and woman collapsed to the ground. Aside from a few initial screams, there was no more sound.
Owen and Monica exchanged glances, a chill running down their spines. The children's cold, expressionless faces made it clear this wasn't a first-time occurrence. Their indifference was terrifying.
Child gang.
That was the only term Owen could think of to describe them. They may have looked like harmless kids, but their actions were brutal. Something about this town was seriously wrong.
How had that Stuart guy known Monica's name? Don't tell him he overheard her friends—Monica hadn't spoken to Beth or the others all night. She'd been with Owen the entire time, and he only ever called her "babe" or other pet names.
And now there was a child gang, casually beating people unconscious in the street. Owen remembered the clerk's eerie smile earlier in the day. He was now certain—he hadn't imagined it.
Something is very wrong with this place.
They returned to their room with a heavy heart. Tomorrow, they'd talk to Beth and the others—maybe coming to this town for a hot spring wasn't such a good idea.
But they didn't have to seek Beth out—she and Whitney came to them first the next morning.
Monica let them into the room. Beth's face looked tense.
"What's wrong?" Monica asked.
"Lorna didn't come back last night…"
"Maybe she stayed with some guy. I saw her go out on a boat with a big bearded guy last night," Monica offered reassuringly.
"But now I can't reach her—her phone's off."
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