Ex-1 lifted the bar locking the exit. With a gentle pull, the door silently swung inwards on oiled hinges.

Pleased with this development, he moved over a solid wooden chair to prevent said door from closing. It would ensure an open escape route.

As a last resort, the piece of furniture could also be used as an easily accessible weapon or shield.

After a brief hesitation, he decided to sit on the chair he’d moved, instead of at the table with the boy.

So far, the mental manipulation had not made a re-appearance. He would not become complacent though.

The urchin watched all this with wide eyes, silently mouthing words. Coming to a decision, the boy sat down with a resigned shake of his head.

‘Marcus will bring us some food,’ the boy started.

What a strange designation. By now Ex-1 had concluded that some individuals had different names here. He was not sure how they worked though. They appeared to lack meaning. Maybe something is wrong with the translation skill.

The child was still gearing up to say something else, when the barkeep walked in.

‘Drinks and broth for you. I shall put both on his tab,’ the man growled with a barely disguised snarl. Swallowing any other words he had to say, he sent a challenging look at Ex-1, his left eye twitching in irritation.

‘I don’t think he has money, sir,’ the boy interrupted, turning to Ex-1. ‘Do you? What’s your name anyway?’

‘You don’t even know his name?’ the barkeep asked in bewilderment. Then he sighed. ‘Fine, this is on the house. We both know you can’t pay for it.’

He continued speaking to the boy, as though Ex-1 wasn’t there. ‘He better find himself some employment, because this charity will not be repeated.’

‘Actually, sir, I can pay!’ The boy was bursting with exuberance. ‘And I promise it’s from honest work this time.’

Ex-1 was relieved to see the flicker of panic crossing the child’s expression at that last proclamation. Not entirely senseless then. Seems there is a history there.

Seeing the question on the barkeep’s face, and recognising the increasing signs of irritation, Ex-1 decided to step in.

‘The lieutenant is paying the child,’ this did not seem to satisfy the man, so he elaborated. ‘For spying on me.’

It might have been the orders of the captain, but it was close enough.

The colour draining from the boy’s face would have gotten a rare laugh out of Ex-1; were it not for the looming threat Marcus presented.

‘You need a good hiding, boy! What if this stranger got angry instead of amused? You’d be dead and you wouldn’t even know it!’ the man thundered.

Followed by a barely audible grumble, ‘I’ll be having words with that man.’

The boy appeared suitably chastised, and lowered his head.

Ex-1 could still hear him muttering under his breath though and suspected the same held true for Marcus.

There was a short pause, before the barkeep swept his thunderous visage towards Ex-1. He, in turn, made a show of sighing in resignation.

‘I shall not harm the child. He will show me around the city, learn what he can of me and make his report,’ he preempted the threat. ‘I have nothing to hide.’

‘Don’t think you have me fooled, boy,’ the man grunted. However, he appeared content to leave it at that. I don’t think I’ve ever been called a boy.

With a last twitch of his left eye, the man turned around and stomped through the door. He paused briefly, on the other side, ‘I have excluded you from my skills this time.’

It was as much admission as Ex-1 needed to conclude the barkeep had been the perpetrator of the earlier attack.

‘What does his skill do?’ he asked the boy, curious to see if he knew.

The child was busy, sullenly staring at a knot in the wooden table. ‘Why did you have to go and get me into trouble with Marcus?’

Fine, don’t answer. I’ll try this broth instead; silence suits me just as well.

Grabbing one of the bowles off the table, he made his way back to his chair.

Slightly more at ease, yet still weary, he chose to remain seated by the open door.

Curious hands brought the food to his mouth. A tentative sip later, and the world was briefly forgotten.

Euphoria, completely foreign, and yet wonderful at the same time, consumed his whole being.

It took all of his willpower to stop himself from immediately taking another mouthful.

Inattention was dangerous.

Besides, the people in the tavern had seemed disinterested in their food. He was still trying to imitate the locals after all.

Intent on using the time wisely, he tore himself away from the food, turning his attention to other matters.

The interface was still having difficulty, even though the emotional manipulation had ceased. There were no people to observe. That left him with one option.

‘So, where would I find employment in this city?’ he hoped that he understood the context correctly.

‘Well, I doubt anyone will want you. You made a bad impression by walking around naked and then again in the bar. I mean, you even managed to piss off Marcus. If you can’t act normal, why would anyone want you to work for them?’ The boy was still offended by the turn of events, if his attitude was anything to go by.

‘You’ll end up having to take jobs in the sewer and get yourself eaten by monsters,’ there was a hint of vindication in his voice. Looking Ex-1 in the eye he continued, ‘That’s all you’ll be good for anyway. Monsterfood! You insensitive brute!’

‘That sounds stimulating,’ Ex-1 appealed to the urchin’s excitable nature.

This simple sentence was enough to snap the child out of his bad mood.

A few further clever remarks and the boy was gushing about the adventures to be had. That is, if you were brave enough to hunt monsters in the sewers or the lands around the city.

Ex-1 was perplexed by the urchin’s animated flailing of arms and wide eyed expressions as he talked.

Picking out the important information, he concluded that this employment would suit his skills well. Adventurers appeared to hold a high standing with the local populace and revelled in fighting.

‘Finish your food and you can show me where to go - I intend to fight in the sewers,’ he eventually interrupted the boy.

‘What do you mean? You cannot work there!’

A short discussion later, and it turned out that there were many other forms of employment. The child even made a valiant effort of explaining them.

Though it was clear from the start that Ex-1 would not be as suited to these.

A little pressure mixed with persuasion, and both found themselves back outside - the boy reluctantly leading the way.

‘Look, why do we need to go now? I can show you a place to sleep and you can go hunt monsters tomorrow, I didn’t mean what I said! I am sure there are better ways to get money,’ the boy had not stopped with his attempts of dissuasion since leaving the tavern.

The truth was that Ex-1 believed the child’s initial assessment of his abilities. Violence was something he was good at. If it protected the city and gave him a means to blend in, this was the way to go.

‘Just show me the way, urchin.’

The child really was a great source of information, even if he did talk too much and lacked common sense.

Whilst grudgingly leading the way, the boy continued listing arguments why his chosen form of employment was a bad idea. Ex-1 let the noise fade into the background.

The walk through the city was pleasant and he thoroughly enjoyed his newfound freedom now that he had a plan for his immediate future. He tried to mask his expressions of wonder as he witnessed the city’s way of life once more. The boy would not pick up on his emotions, but you never knew who else might be watching.

Ex-1 hadn’t thought it possible, but the streets were even busier than earlier in the day.

The individuals they met avoided eye contact and moved on.

Larger groups of people were unreasonably excited - laughing and talking, completely unaware of their surroundings.

A brief inquiry, aimed the urchin’s way, revealed that the men would have recently finished work and were on their way to taverns. Supposedly to spend their money on food and ale. Some of the people were drunk, a word the child used for men with slurred speech.

There did not appear to be as many women or children around this time of day, though both groups were still present. He chose not to ask about this. Better to spread the questions around a little.

‘Steer clear from groups like that, they are strong adventurers. Like the people I was telling you about earlier. Not sure what they are like where you come from, but it's better not to annoy them. They’ll chop your head off before you can blink!’ The boy interrupted his rant about the sewers with a warning.

‘It’s supposed to be against the law, but they keep the city safe, so they can get away with murder if you provoke them. We learn early on not to pick their pockets. No matter how expensive their gear - it’s not worth it. Stick to wealthy merchants or nobles without magic!’

Then he added under his breath, ‘And don’t try it where Marcus can see. How was I supposed to know he can observe the whole place with his stupid skills.’

There’s part of the history I was wondering about. Although it does not explain how the boy has such influence over the man, nor why Marcus should choose to protect the urchin from me.

As they neared the main entrance to the sewers he spotted some more adventurers walking around in small groups. The soldiers’ presence was also more prominent.

In fact, the entrance to the sewers turned out to be even more heavily guarded than the teleportation platform had been. Maybe the place presented a greater risk to the population than the boy had let on.

Or, more likely, the boy is ignorant. He does not question enough.

Confident strides brought him closer to a group of three guards. Two were equipped with swords, the third with a bow.

He would have preferred to experiment with his new skills before entering, but the walk had required all his attention. There were too many dangers on the streets to get completely absorbed in his interface.

Besides, he would hesitate to trust in any new skills. He would work with his current abilities, which he knew and could rely on.

‘How would I go about gaining entry to the sewers? I wish to earn my keep by killing monsters,’ he stated.

Two of the men were shooting looks at each other. The third assessed Ex-1, letting his dark eyes slowly travel over Ex-1’s body and clothing. He started with the flimsy shoes, travelling upwards, past the thin pants and vest, before finally settling on his face.

‘You lack the necessary armour and weapons. Come back properly equipped and I will re-assess you,’ with those words he turned to move away.

‘I lack the funds to buy more equipment, I am willing to risk entering without. I am a proficient fighter. The creatures closer to the entrance should not be a problem for me,’ Ex-1 was quick to reassure the man.

The boy did warn me this would happen, I just refused to believe him. What is it to them, if I get hurt or die?

One of the other soldiers stepped up and nudged his companion. They murmured some words, the second soldier indicating towards his injured arm and the child.

Finally, they separated and the first soldier spoke up again, ‘My friend recognises you from this morning. Did you kill the beast that was at your feet when you arrived? If so, we may be able to make an exception. The child will not be accompanying you.’

‘Believe me, I have no intention of throwing away my life, sir!’ the boy exclaimed. ‘I shall wait over there.’

With that, the urchin turned on his heels, stomping to a nearby tree. With a huff, he threw himself on the ground and stayed there, content to wait out the foolishness of his newfound friend.