The next day, Guilliman walked out of the attic and made his way down the stairs. However, this time he didn't head toward the forest area, instead opting to go to a market.
He had a job interview, so he needed clothes.
"Hello, are you open already?" Reaching an open area with a sparse population, Guilliman walked up to a shack hurriedly and asked.
From inside the shack, a young man poked his head out and walked toward him.
"We are always open for business… uhhh, are you buying?" The young man asked, skepticism all over his face. This kid basically had rags on—though a bit cleaner—he clearly didn't have a lot of clothes.
This was not a thrift store. The people who could afford wares from them were those with good jobs in the slums, not someone like him.
"Yes, I need a pair or two, standard clothes, flexible for battles, preferably black. Can I come in and take a look?" Guilliman spoke quite casually. They were running a business, and this kind of profiling was normal for them.
The rich dressed in a particular way, after all.
"Battle? Are you a slayer?" The young man was taken aback, but soon snapped out of it and broke into a wide smile. Slayers were usually massive spenders—something about putting their lives on the line daily made them want to spend a lot more on themselves.
"Yes," Guilliman nodded. In his past life, he had gone very far in hiding his identity when going around. But that was because of the level of power his family wielded. However, here? He had nothing to rely on except his talent and, to an extent, his status.
It was best to use it in contexts where it didn't bring him trouble.
"Ahh, I see. We are running a discount program, by the way. I just need to scan your license, then 10% off," the young man beamed, inviting Guilliman into his store.
After which, he collected Guilliman's license and scanned it through a black stone. Surprise soon shone in his eyes as he saw that, truly, this kid was a slayer.
Jackpot! His eyes gleamed.
A few minutes later, Guilliman walked out of the store with a new pair of clothes. Nothing too flashy: it was a pair of black combat pants, a long-sleeved shirt with a puffy neck, and a tactical robe that fluttered in the wind.
"Thank you for shopping with us. Hope to see you next time!" The shopkeeper waved at him, watching Guilliman fade into the distance.
This kid didn't seem to care about money like the usual slum rat. He just paid whatever he was told. Given that the shopkeeper didn't overinflate the price, he wasn't complaining. This, of course, wasn't to say Guilliman was some sort of fool.
He just didn't want to haggle so early in the morning. Plus, he had a surplus of money he'd gotten from slaying beasts alongside Victoria.
In all honesty, he could be considered rich in the slums. He could pay the rent for the house where he was staying multiple times over.
All that remained for him was to find an opportunity to move out. Of course, that was easier said than done, especially with those despicable people he called family.
But that wasn't his primary worry right now.
As he entered the shelter's main housing area, moving upwards through the stairs, Guilliman couldn't help but admire the difference between what was below and what was in front of him.
The shelter looked way more luxurious the higher one went. The stones used for building, the tiles, and even the colors improved significantly. Guilliman was going very high, so he got to see a lot of different things.
About an hour after he left the house, he came to a medium-sized courtyard inside the shelter.
"Hmm, this material feels expensive," Guilliman smiled. This Victoria was definitely stinking rich.
Yes, the job he had gotten was in Victoria's family house. Of course, it was but a farce of a job. He just needed to get out of that house for long periods so he could really focus on hunting.
Raising his hand to knock on the gate, Guilliman felt a change as the door slowly opened up, revealing a young lady with silver, wet hair and a long robe that barely covered her cleavage.
"You're early," Victoria smirked, using a towel to clean her ear. She then looked at his change of clothes and smiled. "Fancy clothes for a stable boy. You must really want this position."
She joked, then with a wave of her hand, signaled for him to come in.
Guilliman, standing there in a daze, suddenly woke up and walked forward. He hadn't noticed Victoria's frame before—she was extremely sexy.
'Why am I thinking about this?'
Shaking his head, he snapped out of it and continued walking steadily behind Victoria. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed two familiar individuals. One was Jemie, who was apparently leaving at this moment, and the other was the old man Hamdel.
He was seated on a rock in front of a small pond with a stick in hand, and at the top of it was a long string tied to bait.
The old man was fishing.
"Hmm." Guilliman didn't think much of it. Turning his head away and facing Victoria, they soon came to a stop in front of a gazebo.
There, they waited for a few awkward minutes, Victoria smiling weirdly and giving Guilliman several glances through the corner of her eyes.
He looked very handsome compared to before. Money really did change people, she mused.
A few minutes later, a tall shadow loomed over him from the gazebo as a man with a massive but fit build made his way down, looking at both of them.
All of a sudden, he broke into a smile and said,
"That's Guilliman, right?" His voice weighed down on Guilliman, carrying a majestic wave of excellence and unaltered power.