Nikolai woke early, the weak morning light creeping through thin curtains. Memories from the body told him he had work, a small mechanic's shop not far from here.
The pay wasn't much. He remembered the number clearly now: about eight hundred Wallons a month. Barely enough to survive. The old Nikolai hadn't complained, but John, now living in this body, felt the weight of it immediately.
If he was going to rebuild, he needed more. More meant risk, but risk was something he understood.
Still, first things first. He needed to see the place, understand what this version of himself had been doing, and decide if it was worth keeping, at least for now.
He got dressed slowly, the bandaged hand stiff but manageable, then glanced around the small apartment one last time before heading out.
Nikolai slipped the knife into his jacket before leaving. After what happened yesterday, it would be foolish to think those three were done with him. If anything, retaliation was more likely than ever.
Outside, the morning air was cool and heavy with city noise. The area wasn't falling apart, but it wasn't safe either, cracked sidewalks, peeling paint, and the quiet watchfulness of people who'd learned to mind their own business. Everyone here seemed to be struggling just to get by.
It wasn't a third-world slum, but it was far from thriving.
₩800 a month had sounded like a lot when he first saw the number, but now it was obvious why the old Nikolai hadn't paid the debt. Rent alone swallowed most of it. Add bills, power, water, a little for food, and there was nothing left. The man had barely been surviving, let alone saving.
John understood now. That life had been a dead end long before he arrived.
Nikolai walked with steady steps, his injured hand tucked close.
The streets were uneven and cracked in places, lined with small apartment blocks and corner shops selling cheap goods.
Trash bins overflowed on some corners, and the air smelled faintly of smoke and oil from the main road. Old cars rolled past, loud and poorly maintained.
It wasn't chaos, but it wasn't clean or safe either.
After a short walk, he reached the mechanic shop, a squat concrete building with a faded sign and two wide garage doors.
One was half open, revealing a car on a lift and a man working under the hood. Tools clattered somewhere inside, and the smell of fuel and metal was strong.
Nikolai stepped through the side entrance into a small front room with a desk and mismatched chairs. A man in oil-stained coveralls glanced up from paperwork.
"You're late," the man said, frowning but not surprised.
Nikolai paused, pulling from the memories in his head. "Rough night," he answered.
The man grunted and waved him toward the back. "Get changed. Car three needs a brake check. Don't waste time."
Nikolai didn't argue. He headed toward the storage room where an old set of overalls hung, thinking carefully.
This job was temporary, just enough to keep suspicion away while he figured out how to survive and rebuild.
The man's name was Stewart.
He had worked at this shop for years and built a quiet reputation. Customers trusted him with their cars because he seemed honest and carried the kind of calm, reliable face people wanted to believe.
But Nikolai knew better.
From working beside him, he'd seen Stewart's quiet scheme.
The old man would fix whatever was broken but, when the chance came, swap a good part for one that was worn or cheap. It wasn't sloppy work, Stewart was careful.
He didn't do it to every car, only enough to keep suspicion low. He made sure the damage wasn't catastrophic, just enough that the car might fail later and bring the customer back.
It was clever and measured. Too many problems and people would call him incompetent. Too few and they wouldn't return.
Nikolai had been helping with this since he started. It was why he earned ₩800 a month instead of the ₩700 Stewart paid most helpers.
A small bell over the shop door rang. A woman stepped inside, mid-thirties, neat clothes, holding her car keys.
"Morning," she said. "My car's making a little noise. Thought I should get it checked before it gets worse."
Stewart waved her toward the garage without looking up. "Nikolai, take a look."
Nikolai wiped his hands and walked out front. "Pop the hood for me."
She followed him to the car and unlocked it. He leaned in, scanning quickly. The engine was clean, no leaks, nothing loose. Everything sounded normal.
He smiled anyway and let out a low "hmm."
"What is it?" the woman asked, worried.
He poked a harmless hose and made a small frown. "Your serpentine belt's pulling a bit, could cause tension loss on the alternator. Might explain the noise."
She blinked. "Alternator?"
"Yeah," Nikolai said easily, leaning in again. "And I'm seeing a slight misalignment near the throttle body housing. Could mess with airflow, cause a whining under load. Also your coolant return valve looks dry. Probably not a big leak yet, but it's starting."
Most of those words were half-true; the car was fine.
The woman hesitated, chewing her lip. "So… is that bad?"
He sighed like he hated giving bad news. "Not terrible yet. If we replace the tensioner and re-seat the housing, we're ahead of trouble. If we wait, the belt could snap and mess with your power steering."
She cut him off, worried now. "How much?"
He glanced at Stewart, then back at her, rubbing his chin. "If we go original parts… maybe ₩180. But I could use some spares, save you a bit. Bring it down to ₩120. It's your call."
He let out a thoughtful breath, acting like he was trying to help her.
The woman looked relieved but uneasy. "Fine. Do what you need to do."
Nikolai nodded, hiding the grin that wanted to form. "We'll take care of it."