Tali staggered along the sidewalk.
She was a child prostitute, sold years ago to a Russian Gang in Boston, turned into their money-making tool.
In a sin-soaked America, perverted so-called celebrities, politicians and tycoons are everywhere.
Among them are plenty of sickos who like children.
And Tali had been trained and groomed by that Russian Gang precisely for that purpose—to serve, to lure, even to help gather blackmail on those powerful men.
In Moscow Nights, girls like Tali are a dime a dozen.
Most are poor immigrant descendants who have no idea where they came from.
Others are bought by traffickers from the under-developed corners of Southeastern Europe, the Middle East and North Africa, then shipped to America.
Tali, though, is special.
She can barely remember anything before the age of seven or eight.
She only vaguely knows she should be American.
Her father had apparently been a cop.
And there seemed to be a younger sister at home.
The nightmare began one night.
Some bad men broke in while Dad and her sister were away.
Mom was shot dead; Tali was tied up, gagged and blindfolded.
She was terrified.
She lost track of time until the blindfold was finally removed.
Then she saw a group of people sizing her up as if buying merchandise.
After that, a tall, burly man raised a paddle.
Soon Tali was blindfolded again.
When the cloth came off, she was in Boston—another money-spinner for the Russian Gang.
Day after day.
Every day felt like hell, like despair.
Four evenings ago she met a man she couldn't forget.
A rare asian in America.
He looked young—at least Tali didn't think he was much older than her.
And he was strikingly handsome.
He made an instant impression.
To get close he even laughably called himself the Magician and promised to take her away.
For a moment, under the spell of that handsome face,
Tali almost believed.
Trapped in that den of monsters, escape was all she dreamed of.
Yet in the blink of an eye,
just hours later, Tali and another girl were ordered by the gang to entertain clients.
She went numbly, only to find, in a Moscow Nights hotel room, the same prince-faced young asian who had dazzled her.
The last flicker of hope in her heart died the instant she saw him.
She was disappointed—utterly.
That night Tali hated herself.
She loathed the young asian who used her half the night.
But what she hated even more was that, for once, she had actually felt pleasure.
As it turned out, the next day arrived.
Something even more hateful to Tali happened.
All day long, right until evening,
she felt soft and weak all over, her legs especially sore and powerless, to the point where she couldn't even stand steadily.
By the third day, she felt slightly better.
However, the swelling in the bruised areas still hadn't subsided.
But the Russian Gang that controlled them was not one to show tenderness to the fair sex.
In the evening, a perverted City Councilman who was obsessed with Tali arrived and requested her.
But Tali was unwell, so she refused to serve him.
The result was predictable; she received a beating afterward.
Even though Tali was the most profitable money-maker at Moscow Nights, as long as she dared to disobey the Russian Gang that controlled them,
what awaited her was still a beating and torture.
Today, Tali felt miserable all over.
She was sent to a small clinic controlled by that Russian Gang and stayed there for a day.
By evening, Tali, who hadn't eaten for nearly two days, was granted two hours of relaxation time.
She planned to go to a family restaurant she frequented to get something to fill her stomach.
Consequently, just as she was staggering along, about to reach that family restaurant,
accompanied by the low roar of a motorcycle engine, Tali, her eyes vacant, looked toward the sound.
She saw a motorcyclist who looked like a hippie; he was riding a motorcycle and stopped beside her.
Tali thought the man had recognized her identity and wanted to take advantage of her.
Just as she was about to speak out in annoyance, she heard a voice, both familiar and strange, come from the motorcyclist's mouth.
"I've been waiting for you for three days. Get on the bike quickly; I'm taking you away from here."
Tali was stunned, and she couldn't help but recall the young asian man she had met nearby four evenings ago.
Just as she was about to take a closer look at him, he urged her again, "Hurry up, Tali, we don't have much time."
"Do you want to be controlled by them for the rest of your life, selling your body forever?"
Tali's body trembled; these words instantly caused ripples in her deathly silent heart.
Along with that, this motorcyclist, who looked like a hippie,
seemed to transform into a ray of sunlight in the darkness, gradually illuminating her heart.
"I..."
Tali hesitated for a split second, but finally gritted her teeth.
Enduring the pain from the beating, she climbed onto the back seat of the motorcycle.
"Put this on, and hold me tight!"
Hunter took out a helmet and handed it to Tali behind him.
Tali obediently put it on, then reached out her arms and hugged his waist.
Hunter immediately started the motorcycle and sped toward the outskirts of Boston along the route he had scouted a few days prior.
*Vroom!*
Whether it was the roaring engine of the motorcycle or the wind whipped up as the bike sped along, Tali soon realized what she had done.
After only a moment of silence, she quickly asked loudly,
"Who are you exactly?"
"Do you know what you've done?"
"They've installed tracking software on my phone."
"And a few years ago, they surgically implanted a tracker inside my body!"
"Every five minutes, the tracker automatically reports my current location."
"Once they discover I'm trying to move away from the Moscow Nights hotel,"
"or if I get close to a station, a pier, or even move too fast, it triggers an alarm mechanism."
"Then someone will call to warn me, and if I don't answer, they'll send a car to take me back by force."
"We're finished!"
"You're finished too!"
"We can't escape!"
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