A Fragile Alliance

The damp chill of the alley clung to him as he pressed his back against the cold stone wall. His heart pounded in his chest, the echoes of his escape still fresh in his mind. He had survived the night, but barely. His ragged breath formed thin clouds in the frigid air as he tried to piece together his next move.

He couldn't keep scavenging like this. That much was obvious. The alley rats were ruthless, and next time, he might not be lucky enough to run. He needed allies. Or at least someone who wouldn't stab him in his sleep.

His thoughts drifted to the boy he had saved. The kid had vanished the moment he was freed, but in a place like this, no one disappeared forever. If he could find the boy, maybe he could learn more about this world—and how to survive in it.

His stomach churned. The half-rotten apple he had eaten last night wasn't sitting well. He forced himself to his feet, wiping the dirt from his clothes. The market district would be dangerous during the day, but if he wanted answers, he had no choice.

[Adaptive Growth: Minor Resistance to Food Poisoning Acquired.]

He let out a dry chuckle. "Well, that's one way to learn."

The streets were livelier now, filled with merchants peddling their goods and peasants haggling over scraps. He kept his head down, blending into the crowd as best he could. His tattered clothing helped—no one spared a second glance at a beggar.

As he moved through the market, he caught sight of a familiar figure. The boy. He was crouched near a fruit vendor's cart, eyes darting between the merchant and a pile of overripe pears.

Stealing again?

He sighed. If the boy got caught, he'd be beaten—or worse. His body moved before he could think. He stepped into the boy's line of sight, shaking his head subtly.

The boy froze, his hands hovering over the fruit. A tense moment passed before he reluctantly withdrew, slipping back into the crowd. He was smart enough to know when to retreat.

Satisfied, he followed the boy from a distance. The kid weaved through the streets like a shadow, eventually ducking into a crumbling building at the edge of town. He hesitated before stepping inside.

The interior was little more than a collapsed ruin, but a small fire burned in the center, surrounded by a handful of others—orphans, outcasts, those discarded by the city. The boy sat near the fire, chewing on a scrap of bread. His wary eyes met his own.

"You followed me," the boy said, voice guarded.

He nodded. "You owe me."

The boy frowned but didn't deny it. After a moment, he gestured for him to sit. He did, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into his frozen limbs.

"You new here?" the boy asked.

"Something like that," he said. "I need information."

The boy smirked. "Information isn't free."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last bite of his apple. Not much, but enough to buy a few words. The boy snatched it up, chewing quickly.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Fine. We're in Lowtown. It's the poorest district of Black Hollow. The guards don't care about us, and the nobles pretend we don't exist. If you don't have money or power, you're nothing here."

Black Hollow. The name meant nothing to him, but it was a start.

"What about work?" he asked. "Something that pays."

The boy laughed, a hollow sound. "You're not from around here, huh? Only jobs here are breaking your back in the mines or getting stabbed in the slums. Unless…"

He narrowed his eyes. "Unless what?"

"Unless you're willing to fight."

His stomach twisted. Fighting wasn't his first choice, but in a world like this, it might be the only way forward.

[Survival Instinct Activated: Potential Opportunity Detected.]

Opportunity? His system had never flagged anything like that before. Was it pointing him toward a path forward?

"How do I get in?" he asked.

The boy studied him, then nodded toward the door. "Come with me."

He followed the boy through the winding alleys until they reached a nondescript building with boarded-up windows. The boy rapped on the door in a specific rhythm. After a moment, it creaked open, revealing a burly man with a scar running down his cheek.

"New blood?" the man asked, eyeing him with amusement.

"He might be useful," the boy said. "Figured you'd want to see for yourself."

The man grunted. "Fine. Get inside."

He stepped into the dimly lit room, heart pounding. This wasn't just about survival anymore.

This was his first step toward something bigger.