The next day Shinji woke up and quickly left the inn making sure that nobody saw him leave.
The reason in his mind for such action was that yesterday he had purposefully walked in the rain. Due to his hair still being blue, Shinji stood out among the people as they mostly had Black or brown hair from what he had seen. The rain and smoke had made his hair a bit darker.
So today he was out to get his hands on something close to hair dye and a change of clothes.
Shinji, having arrived in the vibrant city of Backlund, found himself amidst a labyrinth of unfamiliar and bustling streets Determined to acquire the necessary supplies for his transformation, he knew he needed assistance in navigating this unfamiliar territory.
Approaching a passerby, Shinji adopted a polite and amiable tone, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue as he inquired, "Excuse me, sir. I find myself in search of a particular shop—a place where one might procure black hair dye of high quality. Might you be able to guide me to such an establishment?"
The helpful stranger, momentarily taken aback by Shinji's request, offered a friendly smile and pointed in the direction of a narrow alleyway lined with shops. "If I'm not mistaken," he replied, "there's a quaint little shop called 'Midnight Tresses' down that way. They specialize in hair products and might have just what you need."
A glimmer of satisfaction danced in Shinji's eyes as he expressed his gratitude, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you kindly," he acknowledged, his tone betraying a hint of concealed excitement. With a confident stride, he followed the directions, weaving through the winding streets until he discovered the discreet charm of 'Midnight Tresses.'
Shinji entered a modest shop tucked away in a quiet corner of the bustling city, his heart calm. The bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped inside, a thin trail of dust dancing in the filtered sunlight.
His sharp gaze swept across the shop, assessing its dimly lit corners and the shopkeeper's weathered countenance. "I require a black hair dye." He said his tone entirely neutral with a hint of arrogance that was barely noticeable.
The shopkeeper, accustomed to eccentric clientele, arched an eyebrow but refrained from questioning Shinji's motives. With a knowing nod, the shopkeeper retrieved a bottle of black hair dye—a testament to the shop's discreet offerings. Shinji's lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as he exchanged money not more or less than it was required.
Shinji, fully aware of the persona he sought to portray, made his way through the bustling streets of Backlund in search of a shop that catered to the sartorial needs of the lower middle class. He intended to acquire attire that would seamlessly blend him into the fabric of everyday life, yet still exude a touch of dignity and refinement.
After some inquiries, Shinji was directed to a modest shop called 'Genteel Threads' nestled within a side street. Its unassuming exterior suggested affordability and a focus on practicality rather than opulence. As he entered, a bell tinkled softly, announcing his arrival to the attentive shopkeeper who stood behind the counter.
With a courteous nod, Shinji engaged the shopkeeper in a conversation that revealed his intentions. "Good day, sir. I seek garments that reflect modesty and respectability, without straying too far into extravagance." He inquired.
The shopkeeper, well-versed in the tastes and preferences of the clientele, nodded understandingly. He led Shinji to a section of the shop filled with neatly organized racks, showcasing a range of reasonably priced garments that would suit the desired aesthetic.
Shinji meticulously examined each piece, his keen eye assessing the quality of the fabric and attention to detail. He selected a simple, but well-tailored, charcoal grey frock coat with just enough structure to lend a sense of dignity to his appearance. Paired with it, he chose a plain white shirt and a waistcoat in a muted shade of brown, capturing the essence of practical elegance.
Moving on to the trousers, Shinji opted for a durable pair in a dark hue, ensuring their longevity through the demands of everyday life. He completed the ensemble with a pair of sturdy leather boots, both comfortable and unassuming.
Finally, he picked a top hat. Its colour, a deep shade of black lent an air of sobriety and versatility to the overall ensemble. The brim, gently curving upward at the sides and tapering slightly towards the front and back, providing a subtle frame for the wearer's face, accentuating their features with understated charm.
As the shopkeeper finalized the transaction, Shinji's demeanour remained calm and composed, a reflection of his confident demeanour. He acknowledged the shopkeeper's assistance with a gracious nod, expressing his gratitude for their guidance in finding the perfect ensemble for his desired portrayal.
--
Shinji cautiously made his way through the dimly lit streets of Backlund. His destination the brave heart bar. Someone had recommended it to him, with not having something to eat he decided he would go there.
Nestled on Iron Gate Street, this grimy den of vice was shrouded in an aura of secrecy and danger.
As he approached the bar, the muffled sounds of rowdy laughter and raucous disputes spilled out onto the street, accompanied by the unmistakable stench of alcohol and sweat.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Shinji pushed open the heavy, creaking door, and was immediately enveloped by a cacophony of sights and sounds that assaulted his senses. The dimly lit interior revealed a scene of chaotic revelry—a place where the line between legality and lawlessness blurred. The air was thick with tension and the distinct aroma of spilled liquor, mingling with the rough-and-tumble energy of those seeking refuge from the constraints of the outside world.
Navigating through the labyrinthine maze of patrons, Shinji caught glimpses of the dual stages, each showcasing a different form of raw entertainment. On one, the brutal spectacle of dog fighting unfolded before the bloodthirsty spectators, eliciting gasps and cheers. On the other, individuals engaged in primal combat, their fists clenched and muscles flexed, as they fought for dominance and the fleeting approval of the crowd.
He had never been more happy to have stolen the the Gun. It's cold nature kept shinji from feeling the heat of the bar.
Maintaining an air of detached composure, Shinji discreetly scanned the room, his eyes searching for the figure he sought. The bartender.
Sitting the bar shinji interpreting the bartender he said. "A bear and something to eat."
"10 pence" said the bartender as if he had memorized the prices beforehand.
Shinji immediately handed the man the coins after counting them. After a hour his drink the southville bear and grilled fish came. Eating it shinji quickly left the bar. With his clothes having a heavy stench of alcohol and fish.
Happy with how the day went shinji started to walk towards the inn when he heard something that shocked him.
As Shinji prepared to depart the murky depths of the Bravehearts Bar, his senses heightened by the constant vigilance ingrained in his nature, he overheard a hushed conversation among a group of patrons nearby. Their voices carried the weight of urgency, mingling with the raucous symphony of the bar.
"...did you hear about that bloke? The one with the bounty on his head?" whispered one voice, laden with intrigue.
"Yeah, word is, he's a dead ringer for that chap over there," another voice responded, casting a glance in Shinji's direction.
Shinji's heart skipped a beat as he strained to listen further, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected revelation. Did someone from the ship tell about him to the authorities? He discreetly adjusted his position, ensuring he could gather every morsel of information without arousing suspicion.
"The merchant ship attack, right? Ten pounds on his head! Quite the sum," a third voice chimed in, their tone conveying a mix of awe and admiration.
"Seems like a ruthless fellow, that one. A real troublemaker," a fourth voice added, laden with a hint of caution.
As the snippets of conversation reached Shinji's ears, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Someone from the ship had either part of the slaves or one of the crew members had survived and had a boss that was high up in the position of authority.
Though intrigued, Shinji maintained his composure, ensuring his face betrayed no flicker of recognition or alarm. His mind raced, analyzing the implications of this newfound information. Was this preplanned? Why was the ship dubbed a merchant ship and who was the the person that put the bounty on his head?
He discreetly observed the individuals engrossed in their conversation, noting their gestures and mannerisms, hoping to glean any additional clues that might shed light on the enigma before him.
As he turned to leave the Bravehearts Bar, the realization that his journey had taken an unforeseen turn settled upon him. With each step, he embraced the uncertainty, his mind consumed with questions and possibilities.