Following the Routine

"Where's your boss?"

The early morning sunlight streamed into the room, tracing out the patterns in the wooden floor bit by bit.

The light shifted sideways, then reached the two beds arranged side by side in the room.

The beds had soft pillows, white sheets, and somewhat hard yet dry bedboards raised off the ground.

Tuft of Hair opened his bleary eyes in a daze. At this hour, even the roosters had not begun to crow. Only the sun, which had risen a little early, was sprinkling wisps of sunlight through the east-facing window.

"He should already be downstairs."

Tuft of Hair rubbed his blurry eyes. On this warm bed, he could never resist sleeping a little longer.

Scarface glanced at the bed beside him, which had already been tidied, and curled his lips. He knew he had asked a pointless question.

The man lifted his foot and walked toward the balcony.

This was the Black Mountain Merchants' territory. Although there were no towering walls like those in the wealthy district, there were several four-story wooden buildings the merchants had bought.

This place lay on the outskirts of Seapeak Port, where land and housing prices were nowhere near as outrageous as in the core district. That had allowed them to purchase several buildings together, then set up covered passageways and checkpoints between them, creating a city within the city.

At that moment, down in the courtyard, a boy was swinging the wooden sword in his hand again and again. The short-sword-style toy sliced through the air in front of him time after time, then stopped at the exact same point.

Scarface furrowed his brow. The boy really seemed to have a knack for this. He should never have agreed to find him a swordsmanship teacher.

Fortunately, he had soon sent the man who had been serving as the boy's swordsmanship teacher away on assignment. Although the boy had decent talent, he had never systematically practiced swordsmanship. Surely he could not learn much in just a few short months.

Besides, other than that money pouch, everything on the boy—including his underwear—had been bought for him by them. He had not had the slightest chance to come into contact with weapons. He should not lose control.

Scarface suddenly chuckled, as if mocking himself for being so wary of a mere little brat.

"Boss wants to have breakfast with you. Come up, take a bath, change your clothes, and leave with me."

Heka, still standing at the boundary between light and shadow below, looked up at Scarface Man on the balcony.

He had not taken a close look at him at the bathhouse, but after more than twenty days of living together, Heka had discovered that the core members of the Black Mountain Merchants were all Black Mountain people. There were practically no locals among them.

The few locals in the headquarters were mostly laborers and peripheral enforcers.

The Black Mountain people looked very different from the local Valin people of Seapeak Port. Their skin was somewhat rougher, and their accents carried a touch of rolled r's.

Most of the time inside the headquarters, they communicated with one another in the Black Mountain language.

Heka nodded, then handed the wooden sword in his hand to an enforcer nearby.

The people of the Black Mountain Merchants were exceptionally wary of him. Although he still looked like a child—not even a teenager—and had never received systematic swordsmanship training, they would not allow Heka to carry even a wooden sword around.

Heka could only ask the stablehand at the headquarters for one whenever he needed it. Fortunately, the man had not made things too difficult for him; otherwise, he would probably have had to spend another sum of money to avert disaster.

He did not know whether this was because he had killed that Blood Crow member in a counterattack.

As Heka walked toward the second floor, he focused his attention and opened his status panel. He had not slacked off in the past twenty-odd days. Mastering new skills had been his top priority.

The 20% damage bonus from Slashing was wonderfully useful, but it was not enough.

If he could get another 20% damage bonus, bringing the total close to half again as much damage, Heka felt it should make up for his weakness in strength.

[Name] Heka

[Race] Lightfoot Halfling/Human hybrid

[Attributes]

Strength: 0.472

Constitution: 1.219

Agility: 1.281

Speed: 0.943

Intelligence: 1.178

[Skills]

Theft (7180/10000)

Slashing (Increases damage by an additional 20% when using daggers/short swords)

Sweeping Strike (3118/10000)

Sleight of Hand (796/10000)

Valin (1098/10000)

[Inventory] (10 slots)

Unactivated simple crossbow ×1

Six inferior buckets filled with water

Walin Copper Coins ×318

Walin Silver Coins ×52

Huika Gold Coins ×23

Sharp simple dagger ×1

[Challenge]

None

The only regret was that, perhaps because his constitution had already risen above average, Heka had still failed to increase it by even a single point despite eating diligently and getting plenty of rest these past few days.

His strength attribute, however, had leaped by 0.02 after his training. It was not much, but it was still enough to make him rejoice.

His greatest gain at that moment was the progress bar shooting upward. It was not rising as crazily as it had in the sewers, but as his only way to break through his current predicament, Heka had no intention of slacking off in the slightest.

If the swordsmanship teacher he had begged them to provide had not left so soon, he had even planned to find a way to develop a dozen or so skills first, then pile them onto himself here and turn into a sword god from Ten-Mile Slope.

Heka took one last look at the things in his inventory. He truly had not used it even once these past few days—and did not dare to.

Although he had suffered virtually no restrictions on his person inside the Black Mountain Merchants' headquarters, Heka could feel that several pairs of eyes were watching him intently at all times.

The moment he revealed even the slightest opening, they would rush out of the darkness without mercy and tear him to pieces.

After all, the story circulating outside about thirty gold coins was far too tempting. Only recently had Heka learned that the rumor outside claimed he had taken thirty gold coins.

He did not know whether the story had simply been passed along until it became distorted, or whether someone had intercepted several of the coins along the way.

During the first few days, the people of the Black Mountain Merchants had even prepared some convenient food for him. Those fellows thought he had not noticed, but no one knew his own stomach better than he did.

They probably suspected that he might have hidden the gold coins in his stool. After that, they waited a full three days before his meals finally returned to normal.

Whenever he thought of those people monitoring him, whose main task during those days might have been digging through his feces, Heka felt a little repulsed by everyone around him whenever mealtime arrived.

He only hoped they washed their hands thoroughly after finishing their work. He did not want to die of diarrhea from malaria.