Heka did not go for the master bedroom in the villa, choosing the maid's room instead.

This was mainly because the master bedroom was usually located in the spot with the best lighting, making it easier for people outside to see.

Although all the curtains in the house had been drawn, there were bound to be oversights.

Maid's rooms were usually converted from storage rooms. At the same time, to keep servants from using the master's bathroom, more particular households generally equipped the maid's room with a separate bathroom.

Heka turned on the water, then placed the empty bucket on the floor and began filling it.

He took a small piece of soap and a clean towel from the miscellaneous-items box.

His clothes had become stiff from repeatedly being soaked with sweat and then air-dried. Fortunately, he could still take them off without difficulty; they had not stuck to his skin.

After quickly washing himself, Heka put the full bucket back into his backpack and took out a second empty one.

Unlike the well water he had drawn in the city, this water came from much deeper underground. Heka guessed that they had drilled into an artesian aquifer.

In his backpack, it was labeled "inferior water bucket filled with water."

Heka lifted it and took a sip. Although it had not been boiled yet, the bitter taste found in the foul-smelling well water from before had disappeared.

After filling nine buckets of water, Heka changed clothes. He then carefully removed all traces of his presence from the room before putting on his cloak and entering the bustling street through the dog hole leading out of the wealthy district.

The fishing season had already passed, and the stalls lining both sides of the street had fewer fresh seafood offerings. In their place were vegetables grown in the surrounding area.

Heka stopped in front of a brick-and-tile house whose chimney had already begun belching smoke despite it not yet being mealtime. After hesitating for a moment, he walked inside.

It was a bakery. Several women carrying baskets were already waiting there, simply waiting for the day's bread to finish baking.

Heka bought a loaf of bread. After using the shop's bread knife to cut it in half, a faint grainy aroma drifted out from the soft holes puffed up by the yeast.

Heka pinched the springy crust. This was real black bread. What they had eaten before had all been specially baked, extremely dry rations.

That stuff was mainly provided to ships setting out to sea, as well as serving as reserve provisions for certain caravans.

Even so, in an environment like the sewers, even those specially prepared provisions could not be stored for very long.

Heka and Tuft of Hair had been able to hide away for more than a month entirely because of his backpack's preservation function.

Previously, every thirteen or fourteen days, Heka had to pretend to go out and bring back some food in order to keep their provisions fresh.

He had originally planned to say that a friend had given it to him when Tuft of Hair asked.

But Tuft of Hair had never asked about it.

Even so, their bread would become severely moldy during the final few days.

Heka seriously wondered how mold had managed to survive inside bread that had been dried to that extent.

Whenever that happened, they had to carefully cut away the moldy parts. The remainder was then cut into small pieces and ground apart with their teeth.

Huff... huff...

Heka blew on the heat rising from the bread and followed behind a housewife who was carrying the food she had bought and seemed to be heading home.

The big beggars on both sides paused their gazes on Heka, but once they saw the adult he was following step by step, they looked away.

Unfortunately, after reaching the next block, the woman turned a corner. Heka continued onward, finding another adult who was busy with his own work and had not noticed the child following behind him.

After switching targets for the third time, Heka finally reached his destination—a warehouse built at a street corner, though it was nothing special.

This warehouse belonged to Walin's naval supply merchant. In theory, it needed to keep a certain quantity of provisions in stock in case supplies were required.

However, most of what was stored here consisted of dried fish and black bread meant for long-term storage. Those things were truly unappetizing.

Even sailors aboard ships would never eat this stuff unless they were making an ocean voyage.

As it happened, Seapeak Port was not one of the regular resupply points for Walin's navy's ocean voyages, so this warehouse did not have much manpower devoted to its management.

Heka took out the valuable piece of paper and handed it to an old man sitting by the warehouse's back door, smoking out of boredom.

The man wore a sailor's uniform that had faded somewhat with age. A belt hung beside him, complete with a military saber.

The old man glanced at the paper in his hand, then stood and pounded his lower back before turning and entering the warehouse behind him.

Heka followed closely, but the old man stopped him just as he was about to enter.

"First time here? Don't you know the rules?"

The old man's gaze swept over Heka. After pausing for a moment, he turned and entered the warehouse behind him.

Before long, he came out pushing a crate.

"How are you planning to take the goods away? To be clear, you have to pay for the crate—five coppers each. The handcart isn't for sale.

"Someone is backing this business. There's no need to sneak around, much less send a child here to buy things."

Heka fell silent for a moment. He had not been exposed even at the black market, yet he had been found out here instead.

It did not matter how the other party had ruled out his being a dwarf or halfling. What mattered now was getting the goods away as quickly as possible.

With no intention of continuing the argument, Heka tossed five copper coins to the old man. He then opened the crate and confirmed that it contained enough food.

But just as he was about to push the cart away, the old man reached out first and pressed down on Heka's left hand, which was wrapped in a layer of cloth strips. At the same time, his other hand went straight for Heka's cloak.

Not good.

The alarm bells in Heka's heart rang out instantly. In the next moment, the short sword at his waist was already in his hand.

A flash of cold steel leaped out from beneath the cloak, striking straight toward the old man's palm as it reached for the cloak's edge.

The short sword pierced flesh. In the next instant, the old man released Heka's hand and raised both hands, backing away from him.

"I was only trying to help push the cart for you. Why get so worked up? If someone gets hurt and bleeds in the street, bringing the guards down on us, neither of us will have a good time.

"All right, all right. I was clumsy, that's all. The crate is yours."

The old man's gaze lingered on the arm that had flashed past for an instant, with no cloth covering it. He then placed the five copper coins in his hand atop the crate of food.