Creepy Uncle

The only sound in the sewer was the whistle of a blade slicing through the air. Heka gripped his dagger and swung it again and again without tiring.

It was the eighth day since they had come down here. Their food had not run out yet, but the two barrels of drinking water they had left outside had already been completely consumed.

Tuft of Hair had volunteered yesterday to tell Heka that he was going to go up and fetch some water.

Even the boy, slow-witted as he was, already knew that they had probably gotten themselves into trouble and had come here to lie low.

Heka rejected his suggestion, then left the shelter alone and continued practicing his Slashing around a corner for about two hours.

Afterward, he looked at the forty points of proficiency he had gained and, satisfied, went to the area beneath the shelter. He brought out two buckets of well water that carried a strange smell, then took Tuft of Hair and used the pulley system to hoist the stuff above.

Heka maintained his high-intensity training every day. He had considered that, under the circumstances, he should perhaps reduce his physical exertion, just like Tuft of Hair was doing now—spending most of the time spacing out and only a little time moving around.

But after thinking it over, Heka abandoned the plan. Even if he avoided the most intense period, the amount of money he had on him was still too large. He would remain a target for the gang to hunt for the next three or four years.

Waiting alone would not bring results. He also needed to look for a chance to break out of this situation, and the Slashing that was about to reach its limit on the panel might be his only opportunity.

By now, he could gain about two hundred points of proficiency a day while still getting in a normal training session the next day and retaining some energy to spare.

Although he did not know what reaching the proficiency limit would bring, this was still the only thing he could do at present. If he did nothing and simply waited for his food to run out before returning to the surface and taking a gamble, that would be true despair.

Heka rubbed his aching forearm and stopped swinging.

The boy focused his attention and summoned the panel.

To be honest, watching that progress bar rise bit by bit gave him a peculiar sense of satisfaction, even without the pressure of a life-or-death crisis.

Once he had more time, Heka would still try to push the progress bar upward, but he probably would not be so relentless.

Slashing (1996/10000)

Four more points. Let's make it an even number.

Heka summoned the panel again. Seeing that the progress bar had finally reached a round number, he let out a satisfied breath.

After the two barrels of water had been used up, Heka noticed that Tuft of Hair had begun reducing his intake of bread and water. He had previously consumed about half a loaf a day, but now he was down to a quarter.

Heka cut the bread open with his dagger, then handed it to Tuft of Hair, who sat in the darkness quietly watching the entrance in the distance, where the rain had draped a curtain of water.

The shelter's only source of light had nearly vanished behind that curtain of water. Fortunately, the two of them had lived here for eight days and could complete some basic tasks by touch, so they would not bump into things because of the darkness.

Heka sat across from Tuft of Hair, ladled out a scoop of water from the bucket, and swallowed it one mouthful of cold water and one bite of bread at a time.

Although the food did not taste very good, his stomach was growling after all the exercise he had done. When he was hungry, he could eat anything.

He consumed roughly two pounds a day, which was about one loaf of bread, or one pound of dried fish and two small pieces of cheese.

Tuft of Hair had reduced his consumption to half a pound of bread. He barely ate any dried fish or cheese anymore.

They now had seven and a half barrels of fresh water, fifty-three pounds of black bread, and had already consumed a full seventeen pounds of it.

Fortunately, Heka had prepared forty pounds of black bread in his backpack beforehand. They had slightly more dried fish—sixteen pounds—and had barely touched the cheese. Including the supplies he had previously stored in the food-filled chest, they had a little over eight pounds left.

At this rate of consumption, their food reserves would probably last about forty days. At their current pace, forty days should be enough to fill the Slashing progress bar. After that, they would have to take a gamble.

"Eat without worrying. I brought you down here because I had prepared ample supplies. If there wasn't enough food, I wouldn't have brought you down."

Heka split the piece of cheese in his hand in two and offered half to Tuft of Hair across from him.

Winter was approaching in Seapeak Port. Although winters in Seapeak Port were not particularly cold, they were in a sewer without enough fuel, so the cold was an unavoidable problem they had to face.

Heka had not anticipated this situation beforehand.

After the incident, Heka did not know when the truth would come to light. Returning to the gang's base was out of the question, so he naturally could not retrieve the bedding there.

With only the clothes on their bodies, the key to surviving the winter was to maintain sufficient fat intake.

Black bread could not provide enough fat. Only cheese and fish could do that.

"I'm not eating anymore. Big Brother needs to train, so Big Brother should eat."

Tuft of Hair shook his head, sat cross-legged on the stone platform opposite him, and tucked his slightly reddened toes beneath his tattered clothes.

"There isn't much fat in bread. Otherwise, your fingers and toes will freeze off."

"Big Brother, we probably don't have enough food anymore. I checked—we only have enough for a little over ten days."

Tuft of Hair shook his head, then cautiously looked at the boss in front of him. The food chest was right there, and Big Brother sometimes told him to retrieve food.

But in the eyes of the little pickpockets in the gang, food was the most precious thing in the world. Two partners could turn against each other over a bowl of watery gruel.

Tuft of Hair was afraid that Big Brother would take his words as prying into the food reserves, but this was the only way he could persuade him.

"You know how to do arithmetic?"

"A little. My father taught me some."

Heka raised an eyebrow. In truth, he had only known Tuft of Hair for less than three months. After all, he had only been in this world for three months himself.

Tuft of Hair had already been there when he arrived, but back then he had been at the very bottom among the pickpockets and was constantly bullied.

"Then can you read?"

Heka asked with a hint of excitement. He had tested several gang members he was familiar with, but not one of them could read. Not knowing how to read simply would not do.

It seemed that literacy really was a rather extravagant skill for ordinary people in this world.

"I can. A few... No, I can't. Don't hit me."

Tuft of Hair shrank his neck. The boy had initially intended to tell the truth, but the instant he saw Heka stand up, he cowered, apparently afraid that Heka would hit him.

"Teach me, and I'll make you a toy, all right?"

Heka brought his bread over to Tuft of Hair. After saying this, he paused. The words gave him the strange feeling of a creepy uncle asking a little boy whether he wanted some candy.