I guess this will do.
I had changed into my casual clothes. If I wanted to fit in around the Outer Rim, I had to make sure to look the part at least. Staring into the mirror, I wore a brown jacket and rough dark brown pants that were one size too big. My jacket stayed unzipped, revealing a cheap white shirt, and my signature flat cap rested on my head.
Staring into the mirror, I admired myself for a bit. Even though I had average looks at best, I still appreciated the casual style I enjoyed. I preferred to look laid back, unlike those uptight moles in the Inner Rim.
Airing out my jacket, I pushed the cap fully down onto my head to keep my fringe from blocking my view. It had been quite a long time since my last haircut, and my black hair was now reaching my eyes.
Still looking into the mirror, I wondered whether I should check out Charlotte's eyes again but vetoed the thought. I wasn't stupid, the Inquisition had probably tapped this room one way or another. Unlike the Church, the Inquisition wasn't afraid of technology and utilized it to a significant degree.
Its like they're a messed up version of the CIA. Well, you reap what you sow I guess.
Even if right now, it seemed like a net negative being a part of the Inquisition, the benefits could definitely outweigh the drawbacks. I wouldn't reap any of those so-called benefits at the start, but they'd only grow the more I proved myself.
Yet again, I'm climbing the corporate ladder. I have to balance both the Regent and Arthur's expectations - which isn't light.
But, if I could do everything right, it would be a major asset in later events. I needed knowledge and power. Everything else was unequivocal.
Well… maybe some money would be nice too.
Rubbing my chin while wondering about my paycheck, I reached for the door. I opened it slowly, savoring the nostalgic creak of its old rustic hinges, and breathed in the air of the hallway. I had to block the sun from my eyes, glaring out the windows.
Ah, I missed you sun. I'll never be a shut in again.
Basking in the sun, I continued on my way.
.
.
.
.
Hello, my people!
Walking past the disdainful looks from the guards now behind me, I outstretched my arms in a wide mock hug. The roads here were of lower quality, though they were still serviceable. The people wore simpler clothing, the women dressed in old housewife garments, often with children in tow. The men wore outfits similar to mine, either working or escorting their families.
Most people looked at me funny, and I felt the glare from the guards intensify behind me, but I paid it no heed. Unlike the people in the Inner Rim, not a single one here looked at me like I was something they'd scraped off their boot. It felt like a weight had lifted from my shoulders - like a kid who just finished his class presentation.
Freedom at last-!
With a smile, I walked along the footpath. Parts of it were cracked and disheveled, but still passable. The buildings were mostly made of old wood and stone, giving the place a more medieval feel compared to the Inner Rim. But unlike that pristine cage, I saw genuine emotion here.
Men laughed outside pubs, and families strolled through the streets, the kids giddy with freedom. It was a nice sight. It wouldn't be the same in the outskirts, where crime and desperation thrived, but for now, this was peaceful.
I kept walking, attention now a bit more focused as I tried to remember the way to the Industrial District. The city was known for its rubber factories, now even more vital with the Empire's growing military-industrial complex.
Well, seems I don't need a directions after all.
A thick funnel of black smoke rose in the distance. I sighed, already regretting the air quality I was about to subject myself to, and continued on.
.
.
.
.
Jesus Christ, no wonder I never came here.
Jumping over a decaying wooden fence, I landed on a patch of uneven rock and mud. I'd reached the rubber factory complex, a vast stretch of red brick, rusted iron, and coal smoke, and opted to sneak in rather than argue with the guards.
But the air...
It was foul. A sulfuric stench hung like a cloud, and the air was thick enough to chew. I pulled my shirt over my mouth, resisting the urge to gag.
It smells like rotten eggs.
I crossed a barren field full of industrial debris, old piping, broken crates, and puddles of black water that shimmered with oil. The factory itself was massive, with multiple buildings labeled in fading paint. The plan was to blend in, listen, and leave no trace of my presence.
I was now close, and I could see some people start to leave the factories. A loud ringing could also be heard, its shrieking noise lasting for five seconds.
Lunch time. Perfect.
I slipped around to the back and observed. The workers filed out in groups, some caked in soot and grime, others relatively clean. I decided to follow the clean ones. No way was I rubbing ash all over my face just yet.
I darted next to the moving crowd and slipped into formation, staying inconspicuous. We moved together toward a large mess hall at the far end of the complex, a worn sign above the door reading: Unit 7B.
Unit 7B huh. I guess that's where I'm from now.
There were hundreds of us, chatting casually. Coughs echoed throughout the crowd, and a few older men walked with a limp or hunched backs. It was sobering. The only pension here was the number of kids you managed to raise.
The mess hall was larger than I expected maybe even bigger than the mansion's ceremonial hall. Ten rows of long tables stretched down the floor, food already served. White-uniformed staff ladled stew and bread onto metal trays.
Wow, its pretty big in here.
The air was cleaner inside, oddly enough. The walls were dusty, but well kept. I followed the cleaner-looking men and slipped into an open seat, hoping nobody took issue.
The food was serviceable, a meat stew of questionable origin, some stale bread, and slightly unripe fruit. Not a feast, but definitely better than I expected.
You know what... It isn't even half bad. Maybe some salt? Still have no clue what animal this came from though...
I lowered my cap a little, hiding my face, and started eating slowly. Most of the men were older, though a few looked barely eighteen. The atmosphere was surprisingly warm. It reminded me of a rowdy pub. People laughed and argued, even with the hacking coughs in the background.
It felt like sort of a pub here, the same friendly environment. Though I could hear a lot more groans of pain and coughing, the men here seemed to be lively. I gave a silent wish that lung cancer wasn't a thing in this world. If not for them, but for my own health, as it seemed the biggest problem for me right now was trying not to cough hysterically. Even with my shirt covering my mouth, the taste of sulphar still touched my tongue.
I started to listen. Five minutes of eavesdropping turned up nothing interesting. Just men talking about wages, kids, pubs, the usual.
Then I caught something, not from my row, but the next one over.
"Rumor", "Unfair working conditions", "Hes on to something", "Screw those wankers".
A name kept being brought up, and my eyes lit up in revelation.
"Hallrigg" huh?
Bingo.
I guess I'll have to roll in soot after all.
Dipping my stale bread in the questionable meat stew, I started to chew on it, savoring the taste.
Even if I had to cover my face, I was smiling faintly. It felt good to do something I was skilled at, and the secrecy of it all made me feel like I was in a James bond movie.
Continuing to listen, I kept eavesdropping on conversations. I saw a clock at the end of the hall, which indicated that this was a half-hour break, and that there was fifteen minutes left. I prepared myself to eavesdrop for the next ten minutes, and than I'd exit the hall to prepare my disguise. If my guess was correct, "Halrigg." was in the men covered in soot's unit.
Hopefully he knows something I don't already know.
With that thought in mind, I continued my eavesdropping while keeping my eye on the clock. My ears perked again, this time on a whole other subject.
"Commoner", "Awakening" and unfortunately, "Damian" could be heard. I felt thankful that my face was almost fully covered, as my mouth was now agape in astonishment.
Oh, fuck off.
If my guess was correct, in an effort to divert information about the whole mansion incident, Mary and I's awakenings were probably leaked to the public. And if that's true, than that would mean I was a local celebrity, as could be seen from the lively faces of the men discussing it.
So much for discretion, I just pray they didn't add my portrait to posters.
In a bit more of a sour mood, I stared at the clock, which now showed six minutes left for the break.
Shoving the last piece of bread in my mouth, while leaving the slightly unripe fruit, I got up from my seat, while making sure my face was still covered up.
I hope the Inquisition provides soap.