Fortunately, Sam's injuries from the beating he'd received on behalf of Simon weren't severe, and he was able to make it through the night relatively easily. Even the twisted ankle worked itself out without issue.
Alfie had to admit that he was impressed with his host's resilience and adaptability. His acting skills were decent enough that he managed to fit in with Simon's coworkers smoothly, and he was even able to act skittish when one of the tavern patrons pinched his ass and suggested he join the man for a drink.
Still, Sam was so exhausted by the end of the night that he could barely help himself back to the small room that served as Simon's sleeping quarters. He really worked himself to the bone and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and he slept like a log straight until morning.
When the sunlight fell across Sam's sleeping face, he stirred groggily, pulled the thin blanket over his head, and rolled over, trying to go back to sleep.
However, after tossing and turning for a few minutes, he gave up the fight and sat up. Blinking to clear the fog of sleep from his eyes, Sam gazed blearily around the room and wondered aloud, "Where on earth did I fall asleep last night?"
The room was tiny, almost as small as a closet, and the slit of a window let in just enough light to illuminate the cracked plaster of the walls.
'Not on earth, for one thing,' a voice answered in his mind.
Sam jumped off the bed and spun around but almost immediately doubled over when a sharp pain in his ribs made itself known. Lifting his shirt, he saw that his torso was littered with bruises.
"Fuck," Sam cursed as the previous day's events suddenly manifested themselves. Looking at the bed, he saw Alfie in bunny form, trying to hold back a laugh.
'What?' he asked grumpily, giving the bunny a death glare.
'Sorry,' the system apologized immediately, looking remorseful.
Sam gave a humph and turned his attention back to the room. It was barely big enough to hold the bed, which was little more than a hay-filled mat placed on a wooden bench. A small hutch with a candlestick on top was shoved in the corner, leaving just enough room for a single person to stand by the door.
Rifling through the dresser for a change of clothes returned an unexpected find. From beneath a false bottom in one of the drawers, Sam produced a small leather bag that clinked when he hefted it.
'Seems like someone was saving up for a rainy day,' he commented, pulling a golden coin from within the pouch.
'That's right,' Alfie replied. 'Simon had been saving for the past four years, ever since Marybeth died. While he was grateful to William for sheltering him, he didn't want to be a burden on the man forever. Then later... Well, you can imagine why he wouldn't want to stay longer than he had to.'
Sam absolutely understood. 'Still, I'm impressed he started saving so young. When I was fourteen, all I wanted to spend money on was clothes and games.'
The little black bunny rolled his glowing violet eyes. What games and clothes? From the images that accompanied those words, he could clearly see that the things his silly host had been buying were dolls and accessories for dolls.
Putting the bag back where he found it, Sam pulled out a thread-bear shirt, a pair of linen drawers, and woolen breaches before turning back to the dresser and searching for something else.
The alpha system watched him poking around without finding what he was seeking for a few minutes, waiting for the realization to sink in. Still, he grew impatient after a while and wound up blurting, 'You claim to know so much about pirates, yet you still think you can just go, what? Take a shower?'
Sam's actions froze.
'What are you saying?' he questioned, thinking he must have misheard.
'You heard right,' Alfie sneered at the dumbfounded look on his host's face. 'People in this era didn't bathe. Their understanding of personal hygiene only extended to changing into clean undergarments.'
At this shocking revelation, Sam stammered, 'You're just messing with me, right?'
'Why would I do that?' the alpha system insisted, offended by the allegation. 'It's the truth. The theory is that the underclothes will soak up the sweat from the day, and then when you remove the dirty clothes, you also remove the filth from your body. Didn't you notice how bad it smelled in the common room yesterday?'
Sam pursed his lips in embarrassment.
Alfie: '...'
'I assumed it was the food,' Sam muttered in his mind, but of course, his thoughts were an open book to his system.
'Well, I suppose that's fair,' Alfie acquiesced. 'The storage and preparation of food in this era isn't exactly sanitary.'
"Ugh," Sam groaned audibly. 'Hanging out with pirates better damn well be worth it...'
'Is that really all you think about?' the alpha system accused, his tone laced with scorn. 'This is an important mission assigned by the creators. It is not to be taken lightly and definitely not ignored for the pursuit of some ridiculous fantasy.'
'I get it! I get it!' Sam brushed off the admonishment and started stripping. 'Anyway, what's the plan for today? Explore the town? Check out the port? Grease a few palms to get the intel?'
'What?' Alfie asked, blushing and turning away from the rapidly disrobing figure. It should undoubtedly take some time for him to get used to this person's lack of decorum and a sense of privacy. 'For now, you have to do your job and listen to the tavern patrons. Didn't we go over this yesterday?'
'But that sounds so boring,' Sam complained, fiddling with the hole in the back of the drawers.
'Hehe, easy access,' he grinned mischievously and waved them around in front of the bunny.
'Will you just get dressed already?' Alfie grumbled, having seen exactly what his host was thinking about using the hole for. Nudity wasn't the only thing he would have to get used to with this host.
For the first time in his long career, he thought about browsing the upgrade store. Maybe they had some kind of filtering program that could save him from witnessing every perverted thing Sam thought up.
Sighing sadly, Sam put on the drawers and pulled the long tunic-style shirt over his head. In spite of the apparent yellowing and somewhat threadbare appearance, it was clear that Simon had taken excellent care of his clothes.
This was yet another difference between the two. Sam had a tendency to just toss his clothes on the floor when he was done wearing them. However, since he was surrounded by people who knew his body's previous occupant, Sam knew that he would have to step up his game if he didn't want to be exposed.
The woolen breaches seemed like they would be scratchy against his skin, making him glad that the drawers extended down to his knees. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about his feet.
There were no socks, which caused Sam to wrinkle his nose in dismay, but he had no choice but to wear his shoes without them.
Finishing out his 'ensemble' with a vest of the same material as the breeches, Sam looked at himself in the small metal mirror hanging on the wall above the hutch and tidied his hair.
"Not bad," he said appreciatively.
Sensing that Sam was done getting dressed, Alfie turned around to urge him to get to work. The words stuck in his throat.
Despite the obvious disparity in appearance, the person in front of him still managed to indescribably resemble his host.
'Cat got your tongue?' Sam mocked with a smirk when he noticed his system's stunned muteness. 'Simon had quite the nice body. It's a shame he died a virgin. He would have made a fantastic bottom.'
'Shameless!' Alfie scolded, blushing once again at his host's sexual innuendo. 'If you're ready, then let's go.'
'Are you sure we have to stick around here? Didn't you promise me yesterday that you'd get me away from that creep that beat the shit out of me?' Sam prodded hopefully, making puppy eyes at the bunny. 'Thanks to Simon, we have money, and if we leave, I don't have to act like a blushing virgin anymore.'
'Just be patient for a little while,' Alfie coaxed. 'The research division obviously determined that this was the ideal point of entry, so leaving before we get any leads would just be wasting their efforts.'
'Fine...' Sam moped petulantly, slouching.
Just then, the door swung outward, and a gruff voice came from behind him. 'I see you've finally gotten up, lazy bastard.'
Flinching at the sound of the man's voice, Sam turned to look at William. Not wishing to relive yesterday's experience, he smothered his typically cocky attitude and bowed his head submissively.
"Yes, sir," he replied meekly, staring at the man's shoes. He shivered as he subconsciously felt the man's gaze looking him over from head to foot.
"And where is it you're planning to run off to this morning, all dressed up like that?" William mocked, his tone icy enough to freeze Sam to the bone. "Off to see that, Artie or whoever?"
"N-no, sir," he replied, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.
"Good," the older man pronounced, shoving the same bucket and filthy rag Sam had used on the floor yesterday into his hands. "See that you don't, or by God, I will sell you."
Sam shuddered at the thought. Although he had often been in a situation where he had contemplated selling his body so that he could have food to eat or a roof over his head, he was always able to squeak by in the end.
Thus far, Sam had avoided such a fate. However, if he was actually sold off to a brothel or human trafficker, he would have no choice but to let them use his body as they liked.
Sam: 'I know I'm promiscuous, but being a slut and a whore are two very different things. Whores get paid.'
Alfie: '.....'
Alfie: 'You know, I can tell that you're excited by the possibility.'
Sam: '.....'
William gestured for Sam to follow and walked down the hallway and out the back door. When they stepped out into the courtyard, William pointed to the shack at the far end and stated, "Go clean the latrine."