The boy's voice echoed in my head as I walked the bustling streets of Blacksteel. He didn't stop talking, sharing fragments of his life that I hadn't asked for, but I listened anyway.
"My little sister… she's all I have. I promised I'd take care of her," the boy's voice muttered, weak but determined. "We lost our parents to the plague years ago. Ever since, it's just been me and her."
It was hard to ignore the desperation in his voice, even if I wanted to. His body was frail, and now that I inhabited it, I could feel the burden of his struggle. Each step I took felt like I was walking in his shoes—not just literally, but emotionally. It wasn't like I suddenly cared, but something about his story stirred a faint sense of responsibility. Maybe it was his persistence. Maybe it was the way he still clung to life for his sister.
"I'll help you," I said quietly, almost against my will. The words slipped out before I could stop them.
The boy fell silent for the first time since I'd taken over his body. I couldn't tell if it was gratitude or exhaustion, but it didn't matter. I had promised him, and if anything, I was a parasite of my word.
I needed to blend in, and that meant getting new clothes. The ragged cloak the boy had been wearing barely qualified as clothing anymore—it was more like a tattered sheet draped over his skeletal frame. As I wandered through the city, I kept my eyes open for opportunities.
It didn't take long to find one.
In the crowded marketplace, I spotted a merchant distracted by haggling customers over trinkets and food. His cart was loaded with clothes—simple but functional. I moved quickly, weaving through the sea of bodies and slipping behind the cart. With practiced hands, I grabbed a decent-looking coat and a pair of pants, tucking them under the cloak. No one noticed, and I kept walking, not daring to look back.
A few alleys later, I swapped out the rags for the new clothes. They fit surprisingly well, considering the boy's gaunt figure. I found a discarded pair of sunglasses in a trash heap nearby and put them on to cover the unnatural whiteness of the boy's eyes. At least now I looked somewhat presentable, even if I still felt like I could collapse at any moment.
The Adventurer's Management Office was a massive building, carved out of black stone with intricate metal engravings framing the doorway. Inside, it was a well-organized chaos of people—adventurers, merchants, and clients rushing about, posting quests or taking jobs. A heavy scent of sweat and smoke filled the air.
I approached the counter, where a young woman with short, cropped hair and sharp eyes was busy scribbling something in a ledger. She didn't even look up when I spoke.
"I'm here to register."
"Need a silver coin to register," she said flatly, still not lifting her gaze.
I dug into the boy's pocket and found nothing but lint. Of course. "Can I pay later?" I asked, leaning on the counter.
Now she looked up, unimpressed. "No silver, no registration. Those are the rules."
I clenched my teeth. "Fine. I'll be back."
As I turned to leave, I bumped into someone—a human, tall and muscular, wearing shabby armor. He sneered at me, clearly not in the mood for politeness.
"Watch where you're going, kid," he growled, shoving me back. My stomach churned, already weakened from hunger. I stumbled but quickly regained my balance, the parasite inside me feeding off my growing frustration. Without a second thought, I grabbed his arm, twisted it, and flipped him onto the floor.
The entire room froze. Everyone turned to stare.
The man groaned, clutching his shoulder, and scrambled to his feet, glaring at me. Just as he was about to retaliate, a stern voice cut through the tension.
"Enough!" The receptionist had risen from behind her desk, arms crossed, her eyes blazing. "Both of you. Outside. Now."
I didn't protest. I'd already drawn enough attention, and that wasn't part of my plan.
Out in the street, she pulled me aside and sighed. "You're lucky. We don't need another brawl in here. But I'll make you a deal."
I raised an eyebrow. "A deal?"
She handed me a slip of parchment. "There's a missing person case we've been trying to close for a while now. No one's managed to complete it. If you take it on and succeed, we'll waive the silver coin for registration. Plus, the reward's… substantial."
I glanced at the parchment. Missing: Elara Voss. The name didn't mean anything to me, but the reward—500 gold coins—definitely did.
"Who is she?"
"Daughter of one of Blacksteel's noble families. Went missing about a month ago near the old mining district. No one's come back from there… at least, not alive. The family's desperate for answers."
I folded the parchment and slipped it into my coat. "I'll take it."
She nodded, her expression softening just a bit. "Be careful. The mining area… it's not just abandoned. There are rumors of dark magic. And worse."
"Thanks for the warning," I muttered, turning to leave. Dark magic didn't concern me. I had my own kind of magic—and a boy's body that could be discarded if necessary. What mattered now was the reward.
As I walked away from the Adventurer's Management Office, the city's looming towers and bustling streets seemed smaller in comparison to the dangerous path ahead. But I didn't care.
This was just another step toward survival.