Wizah led him to another nondescript shop, with a sign that advertised 'Lightspeed punch', which he knew was just Lightspeed diluted in some dubious liquid to make it more affordable to the locals of Gejuth. Several goons loitered around outside, and he had no doubt that at least a portion of them had some kind of weird powers—Wizah's Teeth, Glasses' Teleportation. Even then, with the advanced technology available to humanity, no abilities like these had been heard of before. Uari certainly didn't think he had any unless his fighting prowess turned out to be one of them. It didn't seem like anything special, but he really didn't know how these worked.
Aw, then Hykel might have had an ability too! Maybe it was the intimidating, terrifying aura. It would explain why he had felt like wetting his pants. It definitely hadn't been because he was actually scared.
He wasn't scared of Hykel, dammit! She looked like she could have been his mother. She wore an apron with paint marks or crayon marks or whatever it was on them.
Uari shook off his erratic thoughts and went back to surveying the building. People entered and left frequently, so it was likely he would be there for a minute. He backtracked some distance away, assaulted some innocent beggar in exchange for a cash fee, and took their clothes and bowl. Now newly-disguised (and with another unconscious person left in an alley), he repositioned himself as closely as he dared to the suspicious shop, and began to beg earnestly.
Wizah did not appear for some time. Wizah did not appear again, or at all, but there was another girl around the same age who stood by the counter inside the store. She answered questions, processed transactions, and looked otherwise harmless if not for the fact that she had zeroed on his unfamiliar presence immediately and was glancing at him every so often.
She was dressed appropriately for the heat in cheap robes that covered her from head to toe; only steel-sharp eyes were visible, and they passed over him frequently. When she moved, her robes outlined the shape of a short dagger by her waist, hidden underneath.
Uari wouldn't make the mistake of thinking she couldn't access her dagger because of her robes and hoped that she didn't suspect his new and (un)friendly presence.
By the time night fell, he had gotten into a scuffle with several other tramps who were unhappy that he had 'encroached upon their territory'. He decided to make more trouble by offering up all of his cash to only one person, and when they snatched it, took a step back, sat down again, and watched as they began to turn on each other.
He felt rather than saw the girl approach, and did his best to look every inch a miserable hobo, hunching down and making his physical footprint as small as he could get it to be. "Hey."
He looked up slowly, as if not daring and scared that further violence would occur. "Hi," he croaked out, parched from an afternoon of cajoling people to part with their money by making up stories about his experience in some far-fetched war no one had ever heard about.
She sighed and, ignoring the tumbling and screaming happening nearby, withdrew a bottle of water from the voluminous depths of her robe to pass to him. She then returned to her post and closed down the shop. The mooks left.
Uari continued to camp outside even through the night, as the shop's lights flickered off. He ate half of a cold can of beans under the cover of the night, aware that he was still being watched. The other tramps huddled in sleeping lumps nearby, adding to the miserable image.
The next day, she gave him a bottle of water and an apple.
He ate the mushy, yellow fruit ravenously because he was incredibly hungry after a measly can of beans, but it certainly presented the image he wanted because by the end of the day he had been ushered into the shop and given a hot bowl of soup in the back kitchen of the shop. Throughout the day, four more people had gone into the shop. Like Wizah, they had never left.
The girl had introduced herself as Valen, and he was now warily watching for unexplained abilities. If she displayed them in front of him, it would likely indicate that she was testing if he knew about them. He doubted she would, but anything would be helpful.
She was a pleasant conversationalist. Kind, even. He had no idea what she looked like underneath her robes, but she listened to his babbling, made-up tales and fervent thanks with grace, and sat him down in the dingy kitchen before serving him the soup.
When she left for a minute to close shop, he dumped the soup back into the pot in the kitchen. There was no way he was drinking that, but he pretended he had upended the whole bowl down his throat. When Valen returned, he demurely refused more under the pretence that he couldn't possibly accept more from her.
He had seen the doors in the hallway. All were sensibly closed; one was visible from the kitchen. His fingers itched.
She left again once more to take inventory or something, and Uari wondered if it was negligent or deliberate that she was leaving him alone so frequently.
He took the opportunity to walk into the hallway and began to carelessly open doors. "Ms. Valen, I'm sorry to bother but is there a bathroom?" He didn't bother masking his sounds with the excuse.
She didn't respond. He called out one more time, and when she didn't respond again, shrugged and continued opening doors. He could always pretend it was urgent and ask for forgiveness later.
Most of the rooms were storage rooms filled with inventory, but one door opened into a downward-leading staircase. This was dangerous; he could go down, but it was only one way and if he were caught...well, he could escape, but it would put them on higher alert even with his excuses.
He was contemplating his next move when a presence appeared suddenly behind him, and before he knew it, he had been pushed down the steep set of stairs.