Once I'd reached Lady Vaughn, the proprietor of the filthy business, I began to put the pressure on. My shotgun had stopped making noises by this point, and so each blast appeared to be an elaborate, bloodless miming routine. Guards poured out of doorways, standing next to my soldiers before realising what was happening. Once we made it inside, the terrified girls began pawing at the wallpaper, trapped in an absurd, looping animation. So I ordered my demolitions expert to blow open the back entrance to the brothel, frantically whistling at him and my henchman to draw them away from the bomb, around which they were scurrying fervently. With that comes "perks", if you know what I'm sayin'? That's right! It unlocks the brass knuckles. If I Can reach and intimidate the owner of La Maison Rouge, New York's swankiest titty bar, then I'll be running the city's prostitution ring.
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