Caught in the act

Did my cry of pain draw them here?

Ignoring the pain in his body, Lorry gritted his teeth and pressed himself against the wall.

Though he had moved carefully enough, the open space around the sewer outlet still caused a fairly distinct splash to ring out.

Another sharp shout immediately followed.

"Who's there?!"

Lorry heard footsteps drawing closer. Unsure who they were and afraid of the unknown danger, he dared not make a sound.

He held his breath and stared, his heart pounding like a drum.

Just then, another voice spoke. "Enough, Old Jack. You're always making a fuss. Who else besides us would willingly come to a place like this?"

"I feel like I'll be contaminated if I get even a little closer."

"Maybe some little animal came for a drink?"

"Goddess above, if you're worried, go in and check yourself. I'm certainly not going anywhere near that place."

"The sweethearts would turn their noses up at me!"

He laughed theatrically. Beside him, the short, skinny man called Old Jack raised his lantern and peered deep into the sewer outlet.

"You're right. Let's patrol somewhere else."

Old Jack lowered his lantern and glanced at his colleague.

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps sounded, and the two figures soon disappeared.

"Phew-"

Lorry exhaled forcefully. His muscles suddenly relaxed, and the headache he had been suppressing all this time caught up with him, making him hiss quietly in pain again and again.

"Sewer workers on patrol?"

Backlund was the capital of the Loen Kingdom. Known as the "City of Cities" and the "Land of Hope," it was one of the most prosperous cities on the continent.

Its advanced sewer and wastewater systems made Backlund one of the cleanest of the many cities.

But that cleanliness came at a price. The web of sewers eventually converged into several enormous pipes, which discharged into the lower reaches of the Tussock River.

To prevent pollution caused by collapsed pipes, the government hired workers specifically to inspect and repair them regularly, like the two men who had just left.

Lorry had gleaned all this from his predecessor's memories.

Of course, his predecessor had known more than that.

For instance, he also knew that these two men were most likely not official government employees, but laborers from the East Borough whom those employees had privately hired.

And the cost...

Was merely a tenth, or even a twentieth, of the wages.

Yet even a filthy, foul-smelling job like this had people in the East Borough fighting tooth and nail for it. Without bribing someone at the labor agency, they would never get a turn.

"So I'm on the outskirts of Backlund?"

Lorry's eyes brightened.

That was clearly good news for him.

Never mind his belongings-even his clothes had been almost entirely stripped away, leaving only a scrap of burlap around his waist. If he appeared on the streets of Backlund, he would probably be arrested as a lunatic.

It would have been one thing if he had a clean record.

The problem was that his predecessor had been a seasoned pickpocket with five years in the trade.

How was that any different from handing the police an easy arrest?

"Whatever happens, I need to get out and find some clothes first." Lorry looked down at his naked body, the corner of his mouth twitching involuntarily.

He was just about to step outside when two pale white dots of light reappeared in his field of vision.

A chill instantly shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

Looking carefully, Lorry discovered that the two sewer workers, who had clearly left just now, had extinguished their lantern and quietly doubled back!

They hid silently in the shadows beneath the trees, their eyes fixed on the pipe opening.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Lorry's scalp prickled, and he was overwhelmed with relief.

Thank goodness he had been sorting through his predecessor's memories instead of rushing outside. Otherwise, the two men might have caught him red-handed when they returned!

Though he was halfway to being a Marauder...

Whether he could beat two grown men alone, without a weapon-or even clothes-was still an open question.

After all, Marauders were not particularly outstanding in combat.

Besides, he had only just regained consciousness, and his head was still injured.

I really can't underestimate anyone!

Even... an ordinary person.

Lorry thought to himself.

Knowing he had become a Beyonder had left him feeling rather triumphant, but he had never expected two sewer workers to teach him a lesson so soon.

He slowly exhaled and pressed himself against the wall again.

This time, the two men did not linger for long. They soon relit their lantern and headed off in the same direction as before.

To be safe, Lorry did not go out immediately.

He waited patiently a while longer. Only after confirming that both men were well and truly gone did he crouch down and carefully crawl out of the filth-filled pipe.

"Good thing this isn't the Northern Suburbs. Though that makes sense. Those nobles would never allow sewage pipes to be built on their estates' doorsteps."

Lorry muttered to himself.

The Northern Suburbs housed the nobles' estates, while the Southern Suburbs consisted of endless fields. Though most belonged to noble-owned farms, there were also a few villages.

He was certainly happy with such surroundings.

"Grrr-"

Lorry's stomach inevitably began to growl.

According to his predecessor's memories, he had gone at least a full day and night without eating.

First, get some clothes. Then find something to eat.

Everything else can wait until I'm settled.

Lorry planned things out in his head as he cautiously made his way onward.

Fortunately, it was late at night, and there were hardly any pedestrians. Despite being barely covered, he would not immediately suffer utter public humiliation or be mistaken for a pervert.

Two hours later.

Lorry successfully acquired a set of clothes.

Still shaken, he glanced back into the darkness behind him. Seeing that the black dog was no longer pursuing him, he let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

"Dogs really are a thief's natural enemy..."

Lorry's thoughts wandered, leaving him rather speechless. He had never expected his first attempt as half a Marauder to end so ignominiously.

He had just passed through a village and spotted an isolated house. With a seasoned pickpocket's skills and the power of the Potion, he had naturally picked its shoddy iron lock with ease.

Unexpectedly, the household kept a large black dog, which had especially

deviously hidden in a dark corner, escaping his notice.

Catching a stranger's scent, it had immediately woken and begun barking loudly.

Left with no choice, Lorry had abandoned his plan to search the kitchen for food. He grabbed some clothes drying in the yard and fled in a hurry.

The large black dog chased him all the way.

Along with its barking came the homeowner's furious curses.

Fortunately, the Potion had greatly improved Lorry's physical condition. His nimble movements had saved him from being caught.

I didn't make any noise when I walked, so that dog probably noticed me because of my smell. That makes sense. I did spend a whole day soaking in filthy sewer water.

I'll have to watch out for that in the future.

Even as he hurried onward, Lorry did not forget to review what had happened.

And once I've earned some money, I need to repay that household as soon as possible.

He knew how difficult life was for the common people at the bottom of this world. Even the cheap cotton-and-linen clothes he had stolen counted as valuable property to them.

There had been an old saying in his previous life: even thieves had their code.

Though he was following the Marauder Pathway...

Lorry did not want to become the final straw that broke someone.

As these thoughts drifted through his mind, he spotted another isolated yard. With practiced ease, he picked the lock on the door. After carefully checking that this household had no dog, he crept inside.

Activating Exceptional Observation, Lorry quickly determined where the bedroom was and slipped soundlessly into the kitchen. After rummaging through an old wooden cupboard, he finally pulled out two rock-hard loaves of rye bread.

These things are hard enough to kill someone...

He silently grumbled, then turned his gaze toward a water jar nearby. It was ceramic and still in fairly good condition, apparently the most valuable thing in the kitchen.

Without hesitation, Lorry abandoned any thought of taking it. He picked up the dipper beside it and drank deeply, then carefully softened the rye bread in water.

Then he tucked the bread away and headed for the door.

The moonlight remained crimson, and the calls of nameless insects rose and fell.

Everything was quiet and peaceful.

Yet for some reason, Lorry suddenly felt as though someone was watching him. His heart tightened, and he abruptly turned to look toward the bedroom.

The wooden window stood half open. A pair of eyes watched him silently, their owner holding a double-barreled shotgun with an index finger resting steadily on the trigger.

In an instant, a bone-deep chill swept through his entire body.

Lorry wisely raised both hands, bitterness flooding his heart.

Perhaps... I'm not cut out to be a Marauder?