Early the next morning, Herag took a carriage to the western Mozambique Slums.

He lived in the east, quite a distance from the Mozambique Slums.

He changed carriages three times along the way, not because the driver was unwilling to go that far, but because Herag didn't want to ride directly from the east to the Mozambique Slums.

That would be too easy for others to trace back his origin.

To be cautious, Herag changed carriages after a certain distance so that at least the new driver wouldn't know where he came from.

In Silver Moon City, carriages couldn't run at full speed without interruption, so the journey took four hours to reach the vicinity of the Mozambique Slums in the west.

After getting off the carriage, Herag immediately felt that the scene in front of him was unlike any other part of Silver Moon City.

In other parts of Silver Moon City, even in the communal districts, the streets were at least clean and tidy.

The buildings were mostly tall, with clean exterior walls, which made them pleasing to the eye.

But in this place, Mozambique, the ground was already littered with trash before even stepping into the slum area.

When the wind blew, the trash would roll across the ground.

A faint stench lingered in the air, sometimes strong, sometimes faint.

There weren't many tall buildings around; most were low houses.

Even when there were tall buildings, they were often very dilapidated.

Seeing this environment, Herag had the illusion of arriving at a garbage dump.

The environment here was obviously unmaintained, either because no one was assigned to maintain it, or it was intentionally left this way to fit the slum's identity.

The people's mental state here was also very different from other places in Silver Moon City.

Herag looked around and found that many people wore expressions of worry, with permanently furrowed brows that seemed never to have been relaxed.

This expression suggested it was formed over many years, not something that appeared suddenly.

Many people were carrying garbage on their backs, some of it picked out to sell, some seemingly to keep for themselves.

The Mozambique Slums had the largest landfill in Silver Moon City, located right next to the slums.

This was one of the reasons why there was garbage everywhere on the streets.

Every day, a lot of garbage was dumped here, and many residents of the slums came to scavenge to sustain themselves.

Herag noticed that the people here were generally yellow-faced and skinny, never seeing a rosy complexion.

Moreover, there were many people with large bellies, indicating serious illness related to their usual dietary habits.

Only when even the most basic hygiene was lacking would there be so many people with distended bellies.

Walking the streets, Herag noticed that people around him kept glancing at him discreetly.

It dawned on him how out of place he was here.

Neat clothes, the obviously expensive fabric, and a healthy complexion.

Everything whispered Herag was a healthy, normal person.

But a normal person was abnormal here.

Herag realized that if he wanted to investigate something here, it would be almost impossible.

Because he stood out too much, an obvious target.

Perhaps before he could go far, news of him would have spread through the Mozambique Slums.

After some thought, Herag stopped a departing carriage and left.

The driver, though puzzled, didn't question him due to the money involved, assuming that this esteemed gentleman was merely curious about the place, only to regret it upon seeing the littered ground.

Occasionally, residents from other parts of Silver Moon City would come out of curiosity, but without exception, they all regretted it.

Just the smell lingering in the air was enough to be unbearable for many.

Herag chose to return, intending to come back once he was prepared.

Apart from changing his attire, he planned to alter his appearance, not wanting to show up looking the same.

Herag thought about a situation where if there were many Abyssal Cultists in the slums.

If he went to investigate and was noticed by these cultists, it would be easy for them to find out his identity, making it easy to target him.

Herag didn't want to risk endangering himself; it's impossible to guard against thieves every day.

If these people had him in their sights, it would be quite troublesome.

Herag himself might be fine, but with Reese by his side, he had to consider her more.

No matter what, he couldn't implicate Reese, and he had to be responsible for her safety.

Once back home, Herag quickly began preparing a Magic Potion called the Thousand-Change Potion.

This was a Tier One Potion that allowed the user to take on the appearance of anyone they desired.

But there was one limitation: it couldn't change gender.

Men could only transform into men, and women into women.

Preparing Magic Potions wasn't difficult for Herag, and the materials for the Thousand-Change Potion were easy to purchase as they were common Magic Potion Materials.

After five hours, Herag held a bottle of purple liquid, the successfully crafted Thousand-Change Potion.

"What are you planning to change into?" Reese asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter. However, the potion can't be used at home; I'll use it once I'm out, so you won't see what I turn into," Herag smiled.

If he changed his appearance at home, someone seeing him later would leave traces.

At least he had to get to the city center and find a secluded place to drink the potion.

There, no one would recognize him or know where he came from, making him untraceable.

"Alright, that's a bit of a pity."

Reese sighed slightly and then started to disguise Herag.

To make Herag appear more like someone from near the slums, Reese purposely bought some second-hand clothes of very poor material, with a bit of a smell.

Herag didn't mind these at all; in fact, he was pleased it fit the identity of the people there.

After Reese worked on his makeup for a while, Herag's complexion turned much more sallow, looking almost malnourished.

With his disguise complete, Herag left to head back toward the Mozambique Slums.

On passing through the city center, Herag found an inn to drink the Thousand-Change Potion.

Herag's form changed rapidly, becoming a bit shorter, with his features entirely different.

Staring in the mirror, touching his face, he had chosen a random visage from memory.

This face came from a past life, if he remembered correctly, it was someone named Leonardo.

Having consumed the potion, Herag changed into new clothes and left the inn when no one was paying attention.

He stood by the roadside and hailed a carriage, the driver looking at him skeptically: "To Mozambique? That's quite a bit of fare."

"Here you go," Herag hesitated briefly, then handed over five somewhat dirty Silver Coins.

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