Chapter 6 A change of clothes

Chapter 6: A change of clothes

_Crap, I forgot about my tuxedo_ Gift came to a realization. He kept his head down before taking a turn and heading into a dark alley.

_Pixel could you create for me a suitable attire, one that can help me blend perfectly with the locals here_

[Command Acknowledged: Creating medieval garments]

Gift could feel the nano-bots in his suit beginning to stir, shifting and reconfiguring themselves. The sleek, futuristic design of his tuxedo began to change, the material rippling like liquid as it morphed into something entirely different.

The black, seamless armor softened and the high-tech sheen began fading away as it transformed into the rough texture of linen and wool. A long, dark tunic appeared, reaching down to his knees, its fabric heavy and sturdy, perfect for the rugged life of a villager. Over the tunic, a thick leather belt cinched around his waist, securing the fabric and providing a place to hang a small pouch for coins or tools.

Next, Pixel fashioned a pair of trousers from a coarse, brown material, loose enough to allow for movement but tight enough to be practical. Leather boots took shape around his feet, scuffed and worn to give the impression that they had seen many miles of travel.

Finally, Pixel formed a pitch black cloak with golden edges, a long, hooded garment made from a dark, woolen fabric. The cloak was lined with a lighter, softer material for warmth, and it draped over Gift’s shoulders, reaching almost to the ground. The hood was deep enough to cast his face in shadow, providing a measure of anonymity.

As the last adjustments were made, Gift looked down at himself, turning his hands over to inspect the work. The transformation was flawless. His high-tech tuxedo was now hidden beneath layers of medieval clothing, the nanobots weaving themselves into the fabric to create something that felt real and solid, yet still retained the protective and adaptive properties of his original suit.

Pixel’s voice broke through his thoughts.

[The disguise is complete, You should be able to move through the village without attracting undue attention. Moreover, I’ve also integrated a few useful features as well, your cloak can still provide limited camouflage if needed, and the fabric will self-repair if damaged.]

Gift couldn’t help but smile at the thoroughness of the AI’s work. "You’ve outdone yourself, Pixel. This is perfect."

[I'm glad you think so]

_With this, I can at least rest assured that my appearance won't attract any unwanted attention_ Gift thought to himself.

He pulled the hood up, feeling the fabric settle comfortably around his face.

Gift left the hood of his cloak pulled up to avoid drawing attention. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he knew he needed information—anything that could help him find a way back to his world.

"Pixel," he whispered, and the AI embedded in his nanotech suit responded with a soft chime.

[Yes?]

"Can you help me find a place where people gather?, Somewhere I might overhear something useful." Gift inquired.

[Command Acknowledged: Scanning a 100 meter radius for any areas that fit such descriptions]

[Failure]

[Reinitiating Command: Scanning a 1km radius for any areas that fit such a descriptions]

[Success: Match Found]

A moment later, Pixel displayed a small map of the village in his vision, highlighting a building not far away.

[There’s a structure known by the villagers as a pub just ahead. It should be a good place to gather intel.]

Gift followed the AI’s guidance, weaving through narrow alleyways until he reached the pub. It was a low, sturdy building, its windows glowing with the warm light of a fire within and the sound's of banter and merriment coming from within.

He subconsciously pulled his cloak lower before slipping inside, the scent of ale and roasted meat hitting him as he moved towards a shadowy corner.

With one quick glance, he saw that the pub was filled with locals, their rough voices mingling with the crackling of the fire.

Gift took a seat at a corner table, his ears tuned to the conversations around him.

[Initiating Reconnaissance Feature]

Pixel silently activated its auditory enhancements, allowing him to pick up on snippets of conversation from across the room.

The dimly lit pub was thick with the scent of spilled ale and sweat, the wooden beams above creaking under the weight of years and the occasional raucous laughter. Patrons sat at rough-hewn tables, their mugs clinking and their voices rising in a cacophony of drunken conversations.

In one corner, two men slouched over their drinks, their cheeks flushed and their speech slurred as they discussed the latest rumors that had swept through the kingdom of Faeryn.

"Y'hear about them demons coming closer to the borders?" one of them, a burly man with a bushy beard, muttered as he took a long swig from his mug. "They say the village of Dunsmire was near overrun last week. Damn creatures, crawling outta the woods like they own the place."

His companion, a lanky fellow with a crooked nose, nodded grimly, his eyes bleary. "Aye, I heard. My cousin’s been packing up his things, thinking to head south, away from all this madness. Says the soldiers can barely keep the beasts at bay anymore. And the king, he ain't doin' much, is he? Too busy counting his coins to worry about us common folk."

The bearded man grunted in agreement, slamming his mug down on the table. "It’s always us that suffers, ain’t it? Them knights in their shiny armor don’t know what it's like to be at the mercy of those... those things. They say the demons are getting bolder, too. I even heard they attacked a caravan on the main road, not two days past."

"Bold or desperate, either way it’s bad news for us," the lanky man replied, shaking his head. "We ain’t got the means to fight 'em off. Hell, we ain’t even got enough to keep our bellies full most days."