Because of the whistle, the girl named Firefly did not explain what she meant by "because we are different from the children outside."
She left, but she did not take the white down jacket with her. It seemed she meant to leave it for you.
After she left, you put on the white down jacket. You treated the many wounds on your body with the medicine she had left behind, then buried the metal box containing the medicine beneath a conspicuous oak tree. You knew that even if you brought those supplies back to the slums, they would likely be snatched away.
After bandaging your wounds, you picked up the Dolin Oranges wrapped in your outer coat and began walking down the mountain. As you descended, you carefully memorized the path.
You reached the town at the foot of the mountain before dusk. There were seventeen Dolin Oranges in total, and the vendor was only willing to buy them at the lowest market price: fifty-one Copper Shields.
As for the white down jacket, you did not dare bring it back to the slums. Fortunately, the outfit made the soldiers patrolling Samoa-do Town think you were some household's mischievous child, so at sunset, they did not drive you away like they did the other refugees.
But Samoa-do Town enforced a nighttime curfew. That night, you rented a basement room at an inn.
The basement lights had long since broken. It was used only for storing junk, filled with insects and rats, and reeked unmistakably of rot.
Still, there was at least a battered old sofa where you could rest. You used the down jacket as a blanket, barely managing to find a place to sleep. You paid the basement rent for an entire week in one go, ten Copper Shields in