The time was still early morning.

The worn-down wooden shack sat in the chaotic rows of the slums, where the air was characteristically stagnant. Nevertheless, the shining rays of the morning sun managed to make everything feel a bit better.

Although the men had ordered Rio to wash himself, there was no proper bathing area in the slums. He needed to leave the area and walk to the closest well if he wanted to clean himself. The capital of Beltrant was split into multiple blocks by walls that surrounded the castle in the center. Entering the city required both a permission form and an entry fee. Naturally, living within the walls was safer and more comfortable, but that was only possible for the rich and powerful; it was a sign of greater wealth to live closer to the castle. Meanwhile, travel between districts outside of the walls was completely free. The people who couldn’t live inside the walls could be found in these areas instead. Although they weren’t as safe, they showed different growth compared to the districts inside the walls. The slums were located in the outskirts of the district outside the castle, and while there was no entry fee, the state of law and order was the worst of all the districts outside the castle walls. They’d fallen out of reach of the government’s supervision and become a lawless area left to its own devices as a result. One never entered the slums willingly, unless you had no choice but to live there.

Rio left the slums and headed for a nearby district with a well, then quickly washed himself and his clothes. Since it was still early, there were barely any people walking on the streets. Thanks to that, he was able to use the well in peace. Of course, there was no proper soap or warm water that could be used, but he did the best he could.

After thoroughly washing himself, Rio stopped by a street stall on his way back and filled his stomach with some cheap, hard bread and sludge-like broth. Then he made his way back to the entrance of the slums. He found a sunny spot and sat down, staring at the ground as he waited for his clothes to dry.

It was early spring, but it was still too cold to be outside half-naked, and he was still recovering from his sickness. Fortunately, Rio was used to life in the slums, so it wasn’t unbearable. At this early hour, the red-light district neighboring the slums was gradually emptying out. Both the women that sold their services and the men that bought them were making their way home. Barely any of them headed home towards the slums, though. The only ones that did were ruffians that had struck it rich for the night. Rio had no particular interest in them, so he sat and thought about what to do next. In all honesty, he didn’t think he could live with the men in the shack for much longer — sooner or later, he’d be run into the ground if he did.

That being said, the world just wasn’t kind enough to let an orphan live on his own without any plans. The only chance an orphan had of survival in the slums was by scavenging for leftovers, stealing from others, or being used by violent gangs, like Rio was. There were no other options.

Stealing is out of the question. I’d prefer some kind of job, if possible...

He knew his chances were bleak. It wouldn’t be easy to find someone willing to hire someone like him in this dismal society. Orphans from the slums were already considered to be at a high risk of committing theft in marketplaces and such, making people all the more wary of them. Not to mention, if it were that easy to find a job, orphans wouldn’t exist. Even if they did manage to find one, they’d be exploited and underpaid. Since that was the case, Rio wondered if he had any useful talents he could use to his advantage. The only special skills he had were the ones he obtained in his previous life: a university-level education, the ability to do housework and other life skills obtained from living alone, as well as a myriad of other know-hows from his family home and part-time job. He searched his head for a way to apply these skills in a useful manner, but it was nearly impossible without the right social connections.

This meant that the only options left were the less-than-legal methods, but Rio — no, Amakawa Haruto inside of Rio — was extremely reluctant about turning to crime, which was a weakness that Rio himself had long since thrown away. Really, there was no point in avoiding criminal activities anyway, considering how often Rio had been forced to act as an accomplice for the men that used him. The realization of how dirty his hands were rose within him, overwhelming him with guilt. It was too late for him. The corner of Rio’s mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating smirk as he stared at his palms with a furrowed brow.

At that moment—

“Hey, you there. Little... girl?” a stern, womanly voice said to Rio.

He raised his head to see four people of various ages standing before him. They all wore nice, clean robes that hid their faces and covered their bodies, so Rio couldn’t tell their genders from their appearance. Looking at their heights, the one who addressed Rio was probably the oldest in the group. Judging by how young the person sounded, they were most likely in their late teens. Behind the one who spoke was a figure who looked to be the size of an early teen and two child-sized figures — they were probably around Rio’s age.

Apparently, the one who spoke to Rio was unsure of his gender, too. His face had always been rather androgynous, and his hair had grown long and scruffy, making it easy to mistake him for a girl.

“Stinks...” one of the small children muttered under their breath in disgust.

The voice sounded feminine, like a little girl. It was a melodic and cute sound, which ran contrary to the blunt and scathing words.

“It would be best to avoid breathing in too much. It might be bad for your health,” the other small child said.

This one also sounded like a little girl.

They sure are saying whatever they please...