Page 4 of The Dragon 1
“Okay. Thanks. So, we’re in a soapland and—” I was mid-sentence when Zo hijacked the recorder, taking it from my hand like we were in the middle of shooting a documentary and he’d just been promoted to host.
He cleared his throat dramatically and spoke into the mic. “This is Zo.”
“Dude, you don’t have to state your name.”
“That’s Z-O, not short for anything, just Zo. Like Cher, but taller and way whiter.”
I folded my arms and stared at him.
He kept going. “We are currently in a Japanese soapland, which is not—repeat, not—a brothel. Though things do get very. . .sudsy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”
He dropped his voice a full octave. “Soaplands are unique to Japan. Originally, they were bathhouses. Now? They’re the lovechild of a spa, a massage parlor, and the kind of sexual fantasy you don’t tell your therapist about.”
I bit my lip trying not to laugh.
He wassoserious about it. “In a soapland, you pay for the massage. The emotional trauma that follows? Free of charge.”
“Give me my damn recorder back.”
“This has been Zo. Cultural ambassador. Fashion designer and occasional flirt. Out.” He handed me the recorder like he’d just dropped the mic.
I stared at it. “What the hell was that?”
“You asked me to assist. So, there you go.”
I took the device and shook my head.
What Zo failed to mention was that a soapland was as close to a Japanese brothel as one could get without going to jail for prostitution. Women bathed the men and provided sexualservices at their request. Most places limited these offerings to hand jobs and oil body rubbing, while others secretly allowed everything else.
Stepping into this place after strolling through Kabukicho alleys was like entering a whole new world.
Kabukicho served as an entertainment and red-light district in Tokyo.
Locals nicknamed itTheSleepless Town, and I could see why. A fluorescent glow of many colors lit up the area. It was an adult amusement park full of kink. Everything could be discovered there, from love hotels to masturbation bars, hostess clubs to pink salons.
However, Castle in the Sky was the district’s diamond.
It reeked of money and lavishness laced in pleasure.
I pressed record again and pointed at him, “Future Nyomi note, never let Zo come along with you on research assignments.”
Smirking, he put his hands up, grinning. “Back to business.”
I continued trying not to laugh. “Correction—Soapland. Castle in the Sky. Velvet walls. Cigar smoke. Sin thick enough to cut with a knife.”
I glanced sideways. “Red velvet curtains, thick enough to smother a scream. Gold tassels swaying slightly, like they’re waiting for someone to pull them shut. There’s a bar to the left—mahogany wood, top shelf bottles, and a bartender in silk gloves. He’s wiping down a glass like it’s a ritual.”
“So poetic.” Zo winked.
A man passed by in a jade robe, followed by a woman in nothing but a pearl thong.
Well, damn.
I turned slightly, not to stare, but to remember and spoke into the device some more, “Most of the women wear lingerie, but afew wear nothing. No shame here. No fear. Just pleasure dressed in luxury and silence.”
Zo let out a soft whistle beside me.
