"We're ready!"
At that response, a group of girls in red halter-neck dresses with open backs burst onto the dance floor in the center of the bar from both sides.
Each one was so attractive and captivating that many customers were already standing up to watch them from the side.
That magnetic voice echoed again, and the spotlight followed his finger, shining directly on the girls.
"What are you waiting for? Show your best smiles and dance!"
As the music began, columns of smoke and fireworks exploded around the floor. The dancers swung their hips, their dresses swayed, and a vibrant scene unfolded before their eyes. The sensual Latin dance was as professional as it could get.
Below, the crowd was already packed, shouts and whistles echoed, and people waved glow sticks nonstop, instantly igniting the enthusiasm of the entire place.
Dilon had already taken off his coat and dragged Max to the armrest near the dance floor, waving glow sticks along with them.
The moment Dexter turned around, a waitress approached. When he saw her silver hair, he understood why she was dressed like that.
The hair stood out among the shadows, and her bow tie and apron were trimmed with fluorescent thread—an ingenious way to distinguish her instantly from other customers.
Seeing Larry looking at her, the waitress handed him the drink menu.
"What would you like to drink, sir?"
Larry looked at it; the prices were outrageously high, but for a place like that, they were worth it.
He ordered a dozen beers and a bottle of sparkling water. After all, if he drank alcohol, his vision problem would cause him unbearable pain all night.
The shows became more and more exciting—magic, dancing, and singing, interspersed with a segment of free dancing.
In the blink of an eye, it was already midnight.
The host pointed to the giant screen behind him, and everyone counted down to welcome the new day when the lives of everyone in this country changed forever.
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
"Let's celebrate a life without slavery!"
With the final "one," fireworks exploded around the stage, but one of the cold firework launchers near the giant screen seemed to malfunction.
With a loud bang, a cluster of fireworks shot out horizontally, twice as high as the rest, instantly spraying sparks against the wall of the booth to the north of the burly man's seat.
The padded leather wall instantly sparked, followed by a puff of smoke, before bursting into flames.
A chorus of screams rose from the surrounding crowd. Several waiters ran over and tore off the padded wall.
Since the area was next to the bathroom, the waiters reacted quickly, grabbing extinguishers and water, spraying the fallen padding and the wall, instantly putting out the sparks.
The host, calming the startled guests, downplayed the incident with self-deprecating humor and began the raffle, immediately capturing everyone's attention; after all, the grand prize was a car.
As the lights flickered, Larry's gaze drifted to that spot.
From that angle, the wall where the padding had been removed looked damp in some areas, with a darker tone in the center, as if it were covered in grease.
Droplets of water swirled around it, and the scene looked very familiar to him.
Larry stood up and walked over. Just as he was about to approach, the waiter who had removed the padding—wearing an earpiece and with a walkie-talkie in his pocket—stopped him with a professional smile.
"Sir, it's not safe here. Please don't get any closer." Larry nodded and pointed to a nearby hallway.
"I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me."
Seeing that Larry made no sudden movements and simply walked past him toward the bathroom, the waiter relaxed a little.
He grabbed the microphone on his earpiece and spoke quietly: "Andres, hurry to the storage room on the seventh floor and bring up ten spare packs of fireworks."
"Then tell Manager Hason not to light any more fireworks for now; one of the flames is extremely large so we need to balance things out."
Larry went to the bathroom and came out. The man had already brought several people to block the passage, leaving only the area near the wall clear. Larry calmly passed by, wiping the dark patches on the wall with a tissue as he walked.
Back at his seat, Max immediately leaned in. "Larry, where did you go?"
"To the bathroom."
"Why didn't you tell me? We just won four bottles of wine!"
Dexter and Dilon burst into laughter. After a moment, Max straightened up again and continued hugging a random stranger.
"Not bad, some people didn't win anything!"
Larry brought the tissue to his nose and smelled it. There seemed to be a faint odor, but the environment was filled with so many different scents that distinguishing it was impossible.
Jane noticed Larry's strange behavior and waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Is there something wrong with your nose?"
Max took a swig of beer, threw a bag of popcorn at Dexter, and grinned foolishly.
"We've had three days off. Are you starting to miss doing autopsies with us?"
Dilon quickly raised his hand, covered Max's mouth, and pulled him back into his seat. "Max, can't we stop jinxing things? How many times has this happened? Why don't you just accept it?"
But despite the jokes, Larry's expression didn't change, and Jane felt something was off. She had been around Larry long enough to know what bothered him, how he thought, and when something was wrong.
"What's going on, Larry?" Jane asked once again.
Larry frowned and raised the tissue at the sound of her voice. "Who wants to smell this tissue?"
Max leaned in, took the tissue, and smelled it. A faint stench reached them.
Dexter grabbed Larry's hand holding the tissue, brought it to his own nose, sniffed it, and suddenly seemed to remember something. He pushed Larry's arm away and covered his nose with a bewildered expression.
"This isn't the tissue you picked up from the bathroom, right?"
"It stinks!"
"Boss, what is this? The stench is faint, but it feels familiar. I can't identify it."
Dilon had rhinitis and a weaker sense of smell, so he didn't smell it, but just the mention of the stench made him shiver.
"Does it smell bad?"
"Damn it, Larry, did you find a corpse somewhere?" Dexter was the first to say it.
Dilon choked on his beer and coughed for a while.
"Please, boss, can't we have a peaceful Independence Day?"
Larry pointed to the wall that had just caught fire. "When I walked by there, I saw a very dark section with droplets of water… I wiped it with a tissue."
"There's a lot of noise and chaos here, and all the smells mix together, so I'm not sure, but it does smell a bit like a corpse!"
Max's jaw dropped, his eyes wide, without the slightest trace of drunkenness, as he stared at Larry, waiting for something.
"We only came for the raffle! Did you seriously find a corpse inside the wall of this brand-new hotel?"