Exiting the alley, a far more complex smell assaulted his nostrils.
The thick smoke of burnt coal, the sharp stench of horse manure, the warm aroma of grain drifting from nearby bakeries, and the sweat of countless passersby blended together, creating the unique atmosphere of an industrial metropolis of the nineteenth century.
Arthur stopped at the street corner, slightly dazed as he took in the scene before him.
The street wasn't wide. It was lined with three- and four-story buildings of brick and stone, old in style, their walls blackened by coal smoke. The gas lamps still cast a faint yellow glow, forming blurry halos of light and shadow in the early-morning haze.
People dressed in vastly different clothing hurried back and forth. Gentlemen with top hats and canes, noble ladies in long dresses with parasols, pale and poorly dressed workers, and beggars and street urchins like him, wandering aimlessly.
Carriages were the main means of transport here; wheels clattered clop-clop over the cobblestones, and the sound of hooves mingled with the shouts of coachmen, creating a chaotic yet vibrant scene.
All of it made Arthur feel both disoriented and reborn, as if he were watching a perfectly detailed movie… with himself as the main character.
"Grrrr…"
His stomach growled embarrassingly loud.The physical-enhancing tonic had healed his body, but it hadn't filled his stomach. A sharp hunger twisted his insides, reminding him what his immediate priority was.
Food.
But his pockets were emptier than he was: he didn't find a single copper coin.
Steal? Mug someone?
Arthur pushed that thought away instantly.The previous Arthur — the dead boy — had been beaten to death for stealing bread. He wasn't going to repeat the same mistake right after being reborn. Besides, as a modern person from the 21st century with compulsory education, he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.
"I need to earn money with my brain," he told himself.
He began studying his surroundings carefully, trying to spot a business opportunity in this old city.
His gaze was immediately caught by several barrels of grease stacked outside a general store. It was animal fat recycled from butcher shops and taverns, giving off a greasy, nauseating smell. It was used to make cheap candles or low-grade lubricants.
Seeing that grease, an idea flashed in his mind.
Soap.
He remembered clearly that although soap existed in the nineteenth century, it was extremely expensive — a luxury for nobles and the wealthy. Ordinary people, especially the poor in the slums, used plant ash or soap pods… and their hygiene was terrible.
But he still remembered the formula from middle school:
Fat + Alkali = Soap + Glycerin
A simple saponification reaction.
The alkali? Plant ash had plenty of it. Boiling it with water and filtering it produced crude lye — not pure, but good enough.
"Perfect!"
Arthur's eyes lit up.It was an almost zero-cost business, a true blessing for a penniless beggar like him.
He got to work immediately.
He collected ash behind bakeries, found a torn jute sack, and filled it halfway. What others saw as trash, he saw as gold.
Then he headed to the general store. Bowing slightly, he said to the Fat Boss:
"Good afternoon, sir. I see these waste oils out here are dirty and smelly. How about I help you dispose of them?"
The Fat Boss glared at him with disgust."Get lost, brat. Don't bother me."
Arthur didn't get angry.
"Sir, I don't want money. I'll clean them up for you. You just have to let me take one small barrel."
The man hesitated, then jerked his chin toward the smallest, filthiest barrel.
"Clean them, and that one's yours. Try anything funny and I'll break your legs."
"Perfect!"
Arthur got to work, and after two hours he left pushing a handcart with a barrel of foul-smelling animal fat. With a few pennies he begged for, he bought two hard rye loaves — his food supply.
All he lacked now was a place to experiment.
He found a half-collapsed shack on the outskirts of the slums. It was perfect.
For two days he barely slept. When he got hungry, he nibbled on the hard bread; the rest of the time he experimented.
He boiled the ash, filtered the lye, melted the fat, and stirred it constantly.He failed several times, but kept going.
Finally, on the third day, he obtained a thick paste that he poured into a wooden box.The next morning, he had real handmade soap blocks in front of him.
They were ugly, yellowish, with a greasy smell, but… they produced an incredible amount of foam.
Arthur washed his face and almost moaned at how fresh and clean it felt.
"I did it!"
He cut the soap into about thirty pieces, then picked the twelve best ones.
Now came the hardest part: selling them.
Sell to the poor? Impossible.
He needed someone who could afford them.
His target was still the Fat Boss.
He entered the store and placed a piece on the counter.
"Sir, I'm not here to beg. I'm here to offer you a deal."
"You? A deal?" The Fat Boss laughed.
Arthur pointed at the dirty rag and the soap.
"Use this to clean the counter. You'll see for yourself."
The man snorted but obeyed.He rubbed the soap on the rag and dipped it in water…
…and the rag exploded into foam like he'd never seen.
He wiped the counter.With a single stroke, a clean, glossy stripe appeared.
The Fat Boss's eyes widened.
He had never seen such a powerful cleaner in his life.
"What… what is this stuff?" he asked, trembling.
Arthur smiled calmly, his face illuminated by his blue eyes.
He was tall — a full 1.85 meters — slender but incredibly handsome, with tousled blond hair and a clear, sharp gaze.That appearance — like a fallen angelic prince — made his words even more convincing.
"This is a cleansing soap made with a secret method.I still have a dozen bars.If you're interested… we can discuss the price."
He knew this was his first real step toward no longer being a beggar.
And toward beginning a new life.