Not everyone in this world has a code of ethics. Take the woman in front of Sherlock, for example. She's got a sword pressed against his neck and is wearing a mask. The blade is barely an inch away from his skin, and it jitters a bit because her hand is trembling.
Come on, lady, if you've got the shakes, maybe robbing people isn't your thing!
Sherlock is genuinely scared. He's afraid that if her hand twitches the wrong way, she'll nick his carotid artery.
"R-r-robbery!" she says in a deep voice. She's trying to sound intimidating, but there's a hint of immaturity in her tone. She sounds young, and she seems way more nervous than he is.
The woman is petite, maybe 5'1". So when she points the sword at him, she has to tilt her head up to look at him, which makes the whole thing look a bit ridiculous and not very intimidating.
Of course, looks can be deceiving. In this world, a full-level goblin who's only 4 feet tall can be deadly. You can't judge by appearances alone.
"Robbery for money or something else?" Sherlock asks cautiously. With amateurs like her, you have to be extra careful.
Experienced robbers usually have some sort of code. Some only want money, some are just looking for a thrill, and some want both and don't mind silencing their victims. Newcomers, on the other hand, are unpredictable. Sometimes, one wrong move or the wrong word can get you killed.
Sherlock's hand, hidden in his sleeve, is already clutching a magical spell. It's a life-saving measure left by the original owner—a fourth-level instant fireball spell. At this close range, he's pretty sure he could turn her into ashes.
But this is his only ace in the hole. He spent nearly a thousand copper coins to buy this spell from Harry. If she's just after money, the materials in his package are worth only 1,500 copper coins. She might not even want them, and the two copper coins in his shoes are probably too small to notice.
"Hand over all the money you have!" she demands, her voice getting a bit louder, but she still sounds unsure of herself.
"I... I don't have any money on me," Sherlock says, raising his hands innocently.
"Give me the package!" Her sword is still pressed against Sherlock's neck, but her gaze falls on the package he's carrying.
"Are you sure?" Sherlock hesitates for a moment.
"Don't talk nonsense!"
The long sword moves forward, and the sharp blade causes a slight pain on Sherlock's neck, like it's nicked his skin.
Sherlock quickly hands over the tattered cloth package on his back.
Whoa!
The weight of the package is more than she expected, almost making her stumble. But a hint of delight appears in her eyes, like she thinks she's hit the jackpot.
She points her sword at him with one hand and opens the package with the other.
Ah...
A piercing scream echoes in the dim alley.
Sherlock looks at the woman who suddenly clings to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he's completely bewildered.
"Snakes! Bats! Frogs!" she cries, her voice shaking with fear.
Sherlock wants to laugh, but he figures it's not the right time, so he awkwardly holds her in a princess carry.
Fortunately, she's light, not much heavier than the package. Plus, she's soft, and it feels pretty comfortable holding her.
After a moment, she seems to realize how awkward this is and quickly gets off him.
Her face is covered, but the pink around her eyes shows she's embarrassed.
"Who... who are you?" she asks, pointing her sword back at Sherlock's neck, looking both embarrassed and annoyed.
"I'm just a wandering scavenger," Sherlock says, lowering his gaze and sighing. "This is my haul from the past half month. I was planning to trade it for some money to buy food for my daughter. She hasn't eaten in three days."
"You... you have a child?" Her sword droops a bit and moves away from Sherlock's neck.
"Yeah, her name is Anna. She's three years old, a well-behaved and sensible kid," Sherlock says, his eyes shimmering with paternal care. "Unfortunately, she had an accident when she was young and has a slight limp."
"You must have been forced into this. You don't need to explain, I understand. The Abyss is a tough place. I won't blame you. Take whatever you want, just please don't hurt me," Sherlock looks earnestly into her eyes. "The kid is still young and can't survive alone. She's terrified of bats and snakes."
She instantly drops her guard. The long sword in her hand hangs by her side and is concealed behind her back. Tears glisten in her eyes, and she can't meet Sherlock's gaze.
"You... you can go," she says.
"What about the package...?"
"I don't want anything. Sell it and buy food for the kid," she shakes her head and takes a step back.
"Thank you," Sherlock quickly crouches down, re-ties the package, and slings it back on his shoulders, preparing to leave.
"Wait!" she calls out again.
"What is it?" Sherlock's heart tightens, and he grips the magical spell in his hand again, slowly turning around.
The long sword in her hand has somehow transformed into a magic wand, and she's chanting something as she points it at Sherlock.
A faint green light falls on Sherlock's neck, cool and soothing. The cut from earlier heals instantly, and the pain disappears.
"A healing mage!" Sherlock is taken aback.
He's one hundred percent sure she just cast a basic healing spell. Her casting was incredibly smooth, and the effect was remarkable.
"Are you a doctor?!" Sherlock touches his neck, his face a mix of shock and joy.
But a mage capable of casting healing magic smoothly would be respected in any city. How did she end up in the Abyss, robbing people on the street?
If he could bring her to his clinic...
No, wait!
If she found out he was just acting, that he doesn't have a daughter at home, just a limping white cat, she'd probably kill him, right?
Unfortunately...
Sherlock keeps patting his thigh in regret.
"I... I'm not a doctor," she quickly waves her hand and then bows slightly. "I apologize for my reckless behavior earlier. You're a good father."
Now, Sherlock feels a twinge of guilt.
But this guilt only lasts for a second. In the Abyss, if you want to survive, impeccable acting skills are an important means of self-defense. His previous self escaped two crises by pretending to be dead.
Gurgle~
She straightens up, but her stomach embarrassingly growls.
Sherlock sighs inwardly. If it weren't for the circumstances, how could a healing mage be robbing people on the street with a sword?
"You can go now. Don't keep the kid waiting," she turns her face away.
"Good luck to you," Sherlock says, taking out the uneaten black bread from his pocket and stuffing it into her hand. He briskly walks into the mist, carrying his belongings on his back.
"This..." She holds the bread in a daze for a moment, then looks up, only to see the lingering mist in front of her.
The black bread is dry and hard, but for Vivian, who hasn't eaten in three days, the faint scent of wheat has a deadly allure.
She tears off her veil and takes a big bite, chewing with force, her cheeks slightly chubby.
After three days of drinking water, her dull taste buds finally regained their sense.
For the first time, she finds black bread to be so sweet and delicious!
As she eats, she suddenly bursts into tears.
Tears wet her long eyelashes and fell onto the black bread, tracing down her smooth cheeks.
"Vivian, how could you rob a father who is struggling to survive?! He's such a kind person, and what have you done?" Vivian grabs her hair, her face filled with regret and pain.
In just three days, she fled from the imperial capital of the Lance Empire to the Abyss, and in that short time, she was deceived five times, lost all her money, and almost sold to a lecherous goblin old man.
"This world is too dangerous, but Father said that only here can we avoid being captured by the Lance Empire."
She's starving, almost on the brink of death.
But she has to stay alive. Her father died to protect her, and her mother is imprisoned in the capital, waiting for her rescue.
So she abandoned the education she had received for sixteen years and chose a seemingly easy and wealthy target.
When the sword pierced his skin, she felt pain. A healing mage who had learned how to heal others since childhood, using a sword to harm others was a terrible torment.
But when she used magic to heal his wounds, she felt her soul redeemed, experiencing great satisfaction.
"I am destined to be a lousy robber. I must find a safe place to settle as soon as possible and strive to become stronger," Vivian wipes away her tears, her gaze becoming resolute. "But what can I do? Helping people is what I'm best at. But in this chaotic Abyss, do they need doctors? Besides, Father said we must act discreetly to avoid pursuit from the Lance Empire..."
...
Sherlock runs with his belongings on his back, only daring to stop and catch his breath after running for three blocks.
This world is truly too dangerous. Even young girls in their teens dare to come out and rob people on the street.
The social atmosphere is extremely poor!
Fortunately, she was just a fledgling, not knowing anything. He could casually deceive her and give her black bread to get by.
"But that was two copper coins, my dinner for today. It hurts!" Sherlock grumbles and walks away quickly.
The rest of the journey goes smoothly. Half an hour later, Sherlock returns to the clinic unscathed.
Confirming that the strand of hair tied to the door handle is intact, Sherlock enters the clinic and quickly locks the door.
"Phew... Going out is so difficult!"
Sherlock throws the package on the stone bed and slumps onto a chair, finally relaxing completely.
The white cat sleeping in the top compartment of the cabinet stretches lazily, sticking out its head to look down at Sherlock with a cold gaze.
"From now on, I'll call you Anna. Thanks to you today, I was able to escape safely," Sherlock says, taking out the last small fish from the drawer and throwing it in front of the white cat, smiling contentedly.
The white cat glances at Sherlock, then at the fish, and bites into it before retracting its head.
Sounds of joyful chewing quickly come from above.
After resting for nearly half an hour, Sherlock gets up and enters the study, taking out a journal. While flipping through it, he reads aloud, "Hemostatic Potion, ingredients: one Silverwing Bat, one dried Green-skin Frog, seven Blue Beans, three pieces of Grayrock Ore..."