Preparations Before Running Away

"Aren't you afraid I'll tell the boss that you're stealing his money too?"

Watching the flush spread across the face of the previously aggressive boy opposite him, the thug suddenly felt his mood brighten considerably.

He fished a hand-rolled cigarette out of his chest pocket, then grabbed the money pouch and headed over to the nearby stove to borrow a fire, only to stroll leisurely back.

The man blew out a ring of smoke, watching the boy in front of him who was flusteredly swatting away the choking white vapor with his palm.

"Then why didn't you go tell on me before.

Besides, this suggestion was your idea in the first place. You tell me, if I go find the boss and have a little chat, do you still have a way out?"

"You..."

Heka's face turned completely red, making him look extremely angry yet utterly helpless.

"I won't fleece you too hard. I'll leave you five coppers at a time, and I won't hold you accountable for what happened before."

"I want an extended vacation, lengthened to three days a week."

The thug frowned. This was hardly a good thing; after all, if the donkey didn't work, how was he supposed to exploit it?

"No, that's too long. Every time like this, the boss will find out, and we'll both be dead by then."

Heka raised his chin, staring at the man holding the money pouch before him.

"I got caught last time and took two kicks, and I still haven't fully healed.

I need to rest for five days no matter what. Cover for me for the next five days while I go find someone to treat this injury.

After that, two days off every week, with thirty coppers per split.

Take it or leave it, otherwise we'll just drop all pretenses. I'll go find the boss, and I'll drag someone down with me before I die."

"Thirty coppers—can a little pickpocket like you use that much money.

Too much money isn't a good thing for you either. Fifteen, or you might not even make it to the boss."

By now, the thug already regarded the coins in his hand as his private property, so how could he bear to hand such things over to others?

Right now, he also sensed the benefits of these brats.

As long as he stood right here, the money could flow in endlessly. This was practically like the legendary alchemy.

Still, pressing too hard was no good either. In case he drove the kid to desperation in the end and the other party caused a scene with the boss, there was a good chance he would be in for a world of hurt.

The thug stepped half a stride forward, the short club in his hand dangling diagonally against his arm—the threat couldn't have been more obvious.

Heka glanced at the club, ultimately shrinking his neck back and nodding with resentment.

"The vacation starts today."

Heka took the money and turned to leave, while the thug had already sunk into fond anticipation of a bright future, completely failing to notice the boy vanishing into the alleyway.

Heka was a habitual thief on this street, but if he walked a bit further away, nobody would know him anymore.

Only, that was the territory of other gangs, and if he was caught with sticky fingers, his head would be chopped off directly and thrown into the sea.

Heka's goal wasn't to come here to make side cash.

After dodging a few gang members, he turned into a stall on the side. This was a place that sold food.

He would probably have to stay down below for a while later on, so getting food ready ahead of time could increase his chances of survival.

Dried fish, one copper per pound

Dried meat, ten coppers per pound

Cheese, eight coppers per pound

Black bread, one copper for two pounds

These were the prices for today, and of course, it had been the same before.

Right next to Seapeak Port was a large fishery; fish and shrimp were never lacking here.

The prosperous fishing industry yielded a massive amount of scraps, driving the prices of fish and shrimp down to the exact same tier as black bread.

An adult male working at the docks consumed roughly four pounds of black bread a day. Heka needed even less; maintaining a normal exercise routine, two pounds a day was plenty for him.

Thirty pounds of black bread, five pounds of cheese, and twenty pounds of dried fish—this was the food Heka prepared for himself.

Naturally, he couldn't buy this much food all in one place. Heka ran around to several shops, ultimately spending 78 coppers.

Right now, his purse had plummeted to 498—not counting that money pouch he hadn't examined closely yet, of course.

Every time he received his goods, Heka would immediately squeeze into the crowd, then use the cover of the people to stow everything from his pockets straight into his backpack.

Confirming that no one was behind him, the boy who had finished procuring the dried fish immediately turned into a side alley.

There was a sundry shop here. Heka chose them for a single reason: the goods here were complete, and the boss never asked too many questions.

"Are my goods here?"

The boss wearing reading glasses looked up.

Hearing the voice of a regular customer, his hand finally relaxed halfway from the heavy crossbow fixed beneath the counter.

A stack of coppers was neatly arranged on the tabletop, then pushed across to the boss.

Using the dim light, the boss quickly verified the luster of the coppers.

Only then did he completely withdraw the hand he had kept resting beneath the counter.

"They're here. Recently a crossbow came in too, though it's badly damaged. Do you want it?"

The old man gave the floor a light nudge with his sole, sliding along with his chair to the shelves in the back.

He retrieved the item with one hand, then took down a small box from the side.

From beginning to end, he never turned his back on this visiting customer.

"You really have everything here."

Heka sighed in heartfelt admiration. He possessed a damaged crossbow mechanism he had scavenged from the sewers, and he had constantly tried to repair it. The materials had previously been bought at a flea market, and after that, he had found this little shop.

He never expected that when he merely mentioned it in passing back then, the other party actually remembered the demand and truly managed to procure a broken crossbow mechanism.

"Thirty coppers for the crossbow mechanism, non-negotiable."

Just as Heka reached out to lift the lid of that box, the boss directly pressed his hand down onto the cover, his other hand once again returning beneath the counter.

Heka released his hand, which was about to touch the box, and instead set about counting the goods the man had prepared for him.

Inside were a fairly sharp flat-edged carving knife, a slanted carving knife that obviously didn't match the flat-edged one, a short piece of cord that could serve as a bowstring, as well as a few pieces of wood and a bit of leather that was clearly scrap material.

"Five coppers, settling the final balance."

Seeing that Heka had paid the remaining balance and was ready to leave, the boss immediately released his hand that had been pressing on the box and beckoned toward Heka's direction.

"Aren't you going to look at this thing?

You were the one who told me back then that as long as I had one, you'd definitely buy it."

Heka stood his ground, then gazed gloomily at the boss behind him who was treating him like a fool.

"You won't even let me look at it, so what kind of good thing could it be.

The most precious parts of a crossbow are the bow limbs and the internal parts of the mechanism; who knows what the stuff inside actually looks like."