Orion walked onto the street, his body aching from exhaustion.
The dangerous fight earlier, coupled with the after-effects of using Rampage, had overdrawn his already limited physical and mental strength.
The excruciating stomach cramps were gone; the moldy bread and the half of a dry bun given by Seele had barely dispelled the feeling of impending death.
But that meager amount of calories was nowhere near enough to help him recover.
He needed proper food, energy replenishment, and rest.
But where could he get these now? He had no place to stay, and no Credits on him.
Should he go back to rummaging through trash?
No, with the system, rummaging through trash would be a disgrace to a transmigrator!
And what could he find in a trash can? Moldy crusts of bread, or spoiled food scraps?
He didn't want to live that kind of life for another day.
Speaking of the system...
That's right, now he should simulate more to earn Villain Points and get more entries.
Entries are power, and with power, even if he had to rob, he would have something to eat!
Orion focused his mind and called out to the system in his head:
"System, I want to continue simulating. Start the second simulation!"
[Sorry, considering the host's young physical age and excessively low attribute values, the body cannot adapt to new entries.]
[Second simulation unlock age: 10 years old.]
[Third simulation unlock age: 15 years old.]
[Fourth simulation unlock age: 18 years old.]
[After 18 years old, one simulation can be unlocked per month.]
Orion froze.
"No way... This system has an anti-addiction system?!"
His current body was only six years old!
There were still four years until he turned ten! Four years!
He could only unlock the next simulation after four years?
Was this damn system trying to make him die in the Lower District?!
He asked a few more times, unwilling to give up, but the system gave no further response, leaving no room for negotiation.
Orion could only accept his fate.
Never mind, at least he still had the system and two entries.
As long as he could survive until the next simulation unlocked, there was always hope.
At least find something to eat first, don't starve to death...
Just then, from afar, Orion saw the smoke rising from a snack stall and smelled the aroma wafting over.
This morning, he had stumbled at that very snack stall, almost getting beaten to death by the owner.
That owner was a burly fellow with a mean face and fierce eyes, utterly merciless towards vagrants.
Though fierce, he seemed not very bright and was easily swayed by emotions.
Perhaps, he could try out the new entry on him?
Orion seemed to have thought of something and walked towards the snack stall.
He slowed his steps, hiding around the corner of a building, secretly observing.
He saw the owner with his hands on his hips, cursing loudly at a vagrant who tried to approach, saliva flying everywhere, and waving a meat cleaver in his hand, scaring the vagrant into scrambling away.
"So fierce," Orion thought.
He adjusted his expression from the side.
His face was still gaunt, no need to fake that; his eyes had lost their sharpness, becoming somewhat blank and helpless.
He deliberately hunched his back, let his left arm hang limp, and limped slowly towards the snack stall.
"Scram! Get lost!"
The owner caught sight of Orion from the corner of his eye and, without thinking, shouted again.
"Want a free meal? No way! If you want to eat, pay for it!"
Orion didn't stop, only moved even slower.
He walked to the stall, stopped, and raised his thin, dust-covered face.
"Boss, it's me... Don't you recognize me?"
The owner was busy taking money from customers and looked up impatiently at the sound.
When he saw Orion clearly, his brows furrowed even tighter.
This kid again?
He didn't get beaten to death last time, and now he's back begging?
He was about to burst into curses but froze the moment his eyes met Orion's.
Those eyes, in the dim light, seemed overly bright, yet filled with a child's innocence, and a helplessness that made one's heart ache.
"Last time, you hit me so badly... My arm can't even lift. I don't even have the strength to pick up trash..."
As Orion spoke, he cooperatively moved his left arm, making it appear very stiff.
He wasn't lying; those blows had indeed hurt him a lot, but now with his physical exhaustion, it looked even worse.
The owner looked at Orion's figure, so thin it seemed a gust of wind could knock him over, and a strange emotion suddenly welled up within him, one he himself found odd.
Half guilt, half pity.
This emotion came too suddenly, too intensely.
A blurry image flashed in his mind: his son, Turner, who had gone to the Upper District with his wife.
My son... he must be about this age now, too?
Looking at Orion's pathetic state, the owner felt a lump in his throat, feeling as if he had committed a terrible evil, completely unlike a man who had spent decades in the Lower District with a heart harder than iron.
"R-really?" the owner asked, inexplicably stuttering, "Did I really hit that hard?"
He didn't even bother to check if Orion's arm was truly that badly injured.
He just felt his heart ache as he looked at the pathetic, dust-covered little face before him, and recalled his son's appearance from memory.
Orion noticed the change in the owner's expression and knew the entry had taken effect!
He struck while the iron was hot, continuing to feign his pathetic demeanor, choking out:
"It hurts so much... Three days, I haven't eaten for three days, and then I get beaten by you... Boss, I'm already so miserable, shouldn't you compensate me? Anything will do..."
The owner looked at Orion's face and listened to his tearful words; his mind buzzed and completely short-circuited.
He didn't even consider whether this kid was lying to him, only feeling that the guilt in his heart was growing like wild grass, leaving him flustered.
"Compensate, yes, I should compensate..."
The owner mumbled, as if controlled by something.
He inexplicably turned around, grabbed a few hot, freshly grilled Belobog sausages from the stall, and took two sizzling skewers of grilled meat from the stove.
Then, he fumbled in his apron, pulling out a small handful of Credits.
"Quick! Take it!"
He shoved the food and money into Orion's arms in a rush, his movements rough, but his eyes held a frantic desire to get rid of something.
"Go! Hurry up! Don't come back again!"
Orion steadily took the food and money, feeling the warmth of the sausages and grilled skewers, and the cold touch of the Credits.
He looked up at the owner, whose face was somewhat contorted from his inner struggle, making Orion want to smile.
"Thank you, Boss."
Orion turned, suppressed the corner of his mouth, and quickly left the snack stall.
He didn't run, but only quickened his pace until he rounded a street corner, confirming the owner wasn't following, before letting out a sigh of relief.
The warmth in his hands seeped through his worn clothes, and Orion could no longer resist, devouring the food ravenously.
First, he took a bite of the sausage; the hot, richly spiced meat filling instantly burst in his mouth.
Then, he tore off a piece of meat from the grilled skewer, tasting the smoky char and the richness of the fat.
Although the taste was rough, even a bit greasy, to Orion, who was at the peak of hunger, this was the most delicious food in the world!
He chewed and swallowed in large mouthfuls; after one sausage, he quickly finished a skewer of grilled meat.
The emptiness in his stomach gradually filled as the food went down.
The burning hunger receded, replaced by a long-lost and intense feeling of fullness, even a bit of being stuffed.
Orion felt like he was alive again!
He rubbed his stomach, which had finally stopped wailing, and still had two heavy sausages and one skewer of grilled meat left in his hand.
Normally, this amount of food would last him several days.
But today was different; his physical and mental energy consumption was too great, he had to eat more.
Orion also counted the Credits the owner gave him: one 50-denomination coin, and three 10-denomination coins, a total of eighty coins!
Though not much, if he used it sparingly, it would be enough to keep him from starving for a week.
Suddenly, Orion thought of Seele.
She must be starving too.
Such good food, he had to share some with her.
Orion tucked away the money, took the remaining food, and walked towards the scrap collection point Seele frequented.
As he walked, he pondered the effect of the [Eloquent Speech] entry he had just used.
Indeed, it was remarkably effective against simple-minded people easily influenced by emotions!
That owner, usually so fierce, was actually moved to generosity, giving him food and money, just by a few words from him.
This entry was truly a divine skill!
Worthy of the system's careful selection!
The scrap collection point was on the other side of town, a massive dump where various discarded items were piled high like mountains.
Orion quickened his pace, eager to find Seele and share the food with her.
The wind grew stronger, stinging his face.
Orion looked up at the sky, the Lower District sky, forever a depressing gray, obscured by the thick dome.
The scrap collection point grew closer, and the stench of decay in the air became stronger.
Orion rounded a pile of foul-smelling garbage mountains and finally saw the familiar area.
However, as his gaze swept over the pile of scrap, his steps suddenly halted.
Something seemed off there.
Several figures were gathered together, seemingly arguing about something.
One of the figures looked rather thin and small, with dark blue short hair...
Was that... Seele?
Orion's heart sank abruptly.
He had a bad feeling.
He disregarded everything else and rushed towards the scrap collection point.