A whorehouse

Once you step inside the sounds and smells overwhelm you, forcing you to lift your eyes from the floor. There's easily a dozen people in this first room, mostly black men but a few white women scattered around the place. Most of the men are sitting around in some chairs, chatting and drinking. However, some are fusing the women like whores. And not just one man to one woman, but in some cases two or three men to the one girl. The sight of it terrifies you, potentially spelling out your fate in the not too distant future.

The aroma of sweat, sex, booze and cigarettes fills the air, making the room a shrine to almost every vice under the sun. Shrill moans can be heard from the women unlucky enough to be getting fucked right now and guttural groans from the men using them. The women fortunate enough to not be getting fucked right now are either fetching drinks for the men or sitting on their laps, teasing their fingers over their chests.

The building seems to be some sort of pre-war hardware store (called hardware town if the sign above the counter is anything to go by) which has long since been abandoned and left to bear the burden of time before being repurposed by the Black Kings. The room you're currently in is the store itself, with a counter at one end and behind that another smaller room, with a door seemingly leading to some sort of stock room.

As you stand there stunned for a moment, taking in your surroundings, Darius tugs on your chain pulling you forward by the neck.