After passing the intersection, Selena led Byrne down another street.
The atmosphere here was a stark contrast to North Whitepine Street; it lacked the stern gravity of government institutions and felt far more lived-in. The street was lined with various shops and residential buildings, their light-brown stone facades kept spotlessly clean.
Byrne looked up, noting unknown flowers and greenery perched on windowsills. Occasionally, well-dressed pedestrians brushed past them, walking with a composed leisure that was worlds away from the frantic survivalism of the Lower District.
While he observed the surroundings, Selena spoke as they walked:
"Rental properties in the Upper District generally fall into two categories. First, high-end apartments near the bustling commercial zones—comfortable, fully equipped, but very expensive. Then there are ordinary apartments in residential areas—simple facilities, but much more affordable.
"A few more minutes ahead is a housing agency. I've been there before with my family to handle some property matters. They're reliable and, more importantly, tight-lipped. They won't go prying into a client's personal business."
After another five minutes of walking, Selena stopped and pointed to a small three-story building. "We're here. This is the agency."
Three hours later, Selena sat on a bench in Emperor's Square, rubbing her calves. "Byrne, we've looked at five different places. Haven't you picked one yet?"
Byrne stood nearby, scratching his head.
"Sorry for wearing you out. It's just that none of them quite fit my requirements. You know our situation is... unique. We're Tax Collectors on the surface, but we have to handle Bureau business in the shadows. A place that's too secluded or too busy just isn't ideal."
Selena paused her rubbing and nodded in understanding. When she had mentioned earlier that she was thinking of moving too, she hadn't been lying. Even though her current residence was quiet and undisturbed, her family watched her every move. Trying to hide an investigator's identity there would be nearly impossible.
"You're right. I wasn't thinking broadly enough. There's one last listing from the agency; I remember it's on Wisteria Street, not far south of Emperor's Square."
Wisteria Street?
Byrne turned to look toward the southern side of the square. "What's the environment like there?"
Selena stood up, picking up the bag containing her uniform.
"Wisteria Street isn't exactly a 'hot spot.' It's mostly old-fashioned, two-story detached wooden houses with their own small courtyards. Plus, it's near the Old City district, so there are plenty of tenants and frequent foot traffic. It should meet your criteria."
"Alright then, let's go check it out."
They headed south, cutting through two alleys until the architectural style shifted abruptly. Unlike the orderly stone buildings they'd seen before, the houses here were aged. Purple vines clung to the pale grey walls—hence the name, Wisteria Street.
The street was narrow, barely wide enough for two hover-cars to pass side-by-side. The detached houses were staggered neatly, each enclosed by a waist-high stone wall through which neatly trimmed shrubs were visible. Passersby occasionally nodded simple greetings without being overly social—a peaceful, balanced atmosphere.
"So?" Selena asked. "The environment here isn't bad, right?"
Byrne nodded slowly. "Not bad at all."
A moment later, they reached No. 79 Wisteria Street. Byrne stepped up to the gate and rang the bell. Soon, the sound of slow footsteps approached from within the yard.
"Who is it?"
"Hello, we're here about the rental."
The gate creaked open, revealing a hunched old man with thinning white hair. He wore faded deep-blue cloth clothes, his face a map of wrinkles, but his eyes were remarkably bright. He looked Byrne and Selena up and down before stepping aside to let them in.
"Come in. I'm the owner, just call me Old Anton."
As Byrne entered, he took note of the lock—a high-end model, far more secure than the common padlocks found in the Lower District. The interior of the yard was even more elegant than the exterior suggested; neatly pruned flowers lined the walls, and the bluestone pavement was pristine, without a single weed in the cracks.
The wooden house was also draped in purple vines, and the timber doors and windows were impeccably maintained with no sign of rot. Stepping inside, Byrne saw that the furnishings were simple and tidy. The living room featured a light-grey carpet and a well-kept vintage sofa set against the wall, with a dining table situated near the window on the opposite side. A plate sat on the table; clearly, they had arrived right as Old Anton was about to eat.
"The first floor has the living room, kitchen, and a storage room. The second floor has two bedrooms and a washroom. Furniture and appliances are all included; you can move in whenever you like."
Old Anton led them through the house, offering brief, flat descriptions of each area without any hint of a sales pitch. Byrne inspected everything: the energy stove in the kitchen started up perfectly, the storage room's ventilation was smooth, the bedrooms were spacious, and the water supply was stable.
What pleased him most was a window in the second-floor bedroom that overlooked the back alley. It allowed him to monitor the outside world and served as a secondary exit in an emergency—perfectly meeting his dual requirements for secrecy and safety.
Selena saw the advantages as well, quietly tugging on Byrne's sleeve and signaling her approval with a look.
Back on the first floor, Byrne spoke up. "I'm very satisfied with the house. What's the rent?"
Old Anton walked slowly to the sofa and sat down. Once Byrne and Selena followed suit, he spoke unhurriedly.
"You don't need to pay a security deposit. The rent is 10 silver coins a month, paid monthly."
10 silver coins?
Byrne was taken aback. He wasn't surprised because it was high, but because it was suspiciously low. Before house hunting, he had checked the market rates in the Upper District. A house like this with a private yard, even an older wooden one, usually went for at least 15 silver coins, plus a deposit equal to two months' rent. Old Anton's terms were unusually generous.
Selena clearly sensed something was off too; she shot Byrne a subtle, warning glance.
"Um... no deposit and such cheap rent? Is there some other requirement?"
Hearing this, Old Anton stroked his sparse beard and spoke:
"Heh. Not exactly a requirement. It's just that this house has a special rule—as long as you can follow it, the place is yours."