[You have gained a deeper understanding to the Sin of the Meaningless]
Glancing towards the System notification, Seth could not help but feel as though his emotions suddenly became calmer.
He was silent for a moment, internally testing this new state.
'Is this the Sin's influence? Or just me getting used to all this madness? I should ask Phoebe about this later...'
Pushing the thought aside for now, he finished discussing the final details with Matilda.
He gave her an advance payment, enough for a week's food and a cheap room, and promised to return with paper and pens.
The hope in her eyes was fragile, but it was real.
As they finished their meal and stood to leave, Seth noticed a few people in the cafe giving them strange looks.
They were staring at Matilda, their expressions a mix of pity and disgust, before their gazes flicked to him with open curiosity and judgment.
He was a well-dressed young man sharing a meal with a woman everyone knew was a prostitute...
Seth ignored them completely.
Their opinions were as meaningless to him as dust in the wind.
He and Matilda exchanged a final, quiet nod before heading their separate ways.
Now, carrying the heavy suitcase, Seth faced his next task: finding a place to live.
He couldn't stay at Phoebe's house forever...
A deep sense of shame prevented him from burdening her struggling family financially any longer.
It also felt inappropriate for a man his apparent age to be a permanent guest in a friend's house.
More importantly, he desperately needed a space of his own, a private place where he could process his thoughts, examine his system, and store his secrets—like the suitcase full of illicit cash—without fear of being discovered.
He walked towards the hotel district in the Linere District, an area Phoebe had pointed out as being close to her home.
It was a practical decision.
After discussing it, they both agreed it was better to be near each other.
It would make coordinating their investigations into his resurrection and her revenge much easier.
If she needed his help, or if he had a question about this world, the distance wouldn't be a barrier.
He remembered asking Matilda about these hotels earlier.
Her knowledge of the city's underbelly was already proving useful.
She'd told him this particular area didn't ask for identification cards, which was a massive relief.
He had no papers, no history, no identity to show.
The only requirement was strict, timely payment, with a minimum rental period of seven months.
For Seth, who needed stability and anonymity, the conditions were perfect.
Of course, if the hotel truly did need identification cards, he would just make Phoebe do the payment for him instead under her own identity.
The only loose end was his "sister," Rose.
According to Phoebe's telegram, she would be visiting soon.
Phoebe had assured him that Rose was an understanding person, but Seth couldn't help but worry.
How would anyone understand that their dead brother was back, but wasn't really their brother?
He decided not to dwell on it...
He would cross that bridge when he came to it.
He approached a hotel called "The Save Hotel."
It was a solid, unassuming brick building—not shabby enough to be dangerous, but not fancy enough to draw attention.
It looked quite clean and functional which was better than Seth expected.
He walked into a small, tidy lobby.
A middle-aged man with a bored expression looked up from behind a counter.
"Help you?"
The clerk asked, his tone neutral.
"I'm looking for a room to rent."
Seth said.
"What are your prices and what's included?"
The clerk gave him a quick once-over, seemingly assessing his ability to pay.
"Seven thousand bathalas per month. We have two available. One on the first floor, near the street. The other is on the third floor, at the back. It's quieter."
"I'll take the one on the third floor."
Seth said without hesitation.
Privacy and quiet were worth the extra stairs...
"You can see it first if you want."
The clerk offered, pulling a key from a board.
"That would be good."
Seth nodded.
The clerk led him up two flights of stairs and unlocked a door.
The room was simple but adequate.
A single bed with a plain blanket, a wooden desk and chair, a small wardrobe, and a door leading to a private bathroom.
The window looked out over a quiet inner courtyard, not the noisy street.
It was exactly what he needed.
"It's fine."
Seth said.
"What about electricity and water?"
"You have your own meters in the room."
The clerk explained.
"You pay for what you use. The bill comes monthly. Rent is paid upfront, on the first of the month. We require a two-month deposit upfront to secure the room."
Seth did the math quickly.
That was 21,000 bathalas just to move in.
A significant sum, but one he could now afford.
"I understand. I'll take it."
"Very good."
The clerk said, a hint of surprise in his voice, as if he'd expected more haggling.
"We can complete the paperwork downstairs."
Back at the counter, the clerk pulled out a simple rental agreement.
"Just need your name and signature here."
This was the first hurdle.
Seth kept his expression neutral.
"Is an identification card necessary?"
The clerk shook his head.
"No. We operate on trust and timely payment. The contract is binding, however. Failure to pay results in immediate eviction."
'Perfect.'
Seth thought.
He wrote down "Seth Arden" – it was, technically, his name now – and signed the paper.
"Now, the payment. That will be 21,000 bathalas."
The clerk said, his hand resting near a ledger.
This was the second hurdle.
He couldn't just open the suitcase full of money on the counter...
"One moment..."
Seth said calmly.
"May I use your restroom first?"
The clerk pointed to a small door down the hall.
"Right there."
Seth walked into the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against it, his heart beating a little faster.
He placed the suitcase on the closed toilet lid and clicked it open.
The sight of all that cash, neatly stacked, was still surreal.
He quickly counted out 22,000 bathalas—the 21,000 for the rent and deposit, and an extra thousand for his immediate expenses.
He tucked the money into his inner jacket pocket, closed the suitcase, and took a steadying breath.
Returning to the counter, he pulled the stack of bills from his pocket and placed it before the clerk.
The man's eyes widened slightly at the sight of so much cash, but he said nothing, simply counting it with practiced efficiency.
"Twenty-one thousand bathalas."
The clerk confirmed.
He handed Seth two keys—one for the room and a spare.
"You're all set, Mr. Arden. Welcome to The Wayfarer's Rest."
"Thank you."
Seth said, taking the keys.
...
The night was spent in a peace Seth hadn't known since arriving in this world.
The room was quiet, the bed was comfortable, and for the first time, he didn't have to worry about someone walking in on him or hearing him talk in his sleep.
The simple act of locking his own door and knowing he was truly alone was a luxury he hadn't realized he craved.
He slept deeply, his mind finally allowing itself to rest without the constant, buzzing fear of discovery.
The suitcase of money was tucked safely under the bed, a secret known only to him and the dust bunnies.
He woke up feeling genuinely refreshed, the morning light filtering softly through the window and painting stripes across the wooden floor.
He stretched, the joints in his shoulders popping pleasantly.
It was a new day, and for a single, blissful moment, everything felt normal.
Just then, a calm, unfamiliar voice cut through the quiet from the other side of the room.
"Awake now?"