The system asked Vorgath a dumb question. It was obvious that he would offer it.
[Unable to offer contract. Your Authority is too low for the contract terms.]
"Damn it," Vorgath cursed internally. His Authority status was basically non-existent, so asking for too much in the contracts wouldn't work. Vorgath rewrote the contract, changing the increase in attributes significantly—only 50 in each attribute.
It didn't work again.
He kept writing down the attributes until he reached the amount of 1 point in each attribute. The amount was low, so he was almost sure it would work.
[The Contracted Party cannot sign a contract without reading it, please translate it for blind people. Quick Note: you cannot cure her blindness with your current Authority level.]
Once again, the contract didn't work. Even when asking for a tiny reward. Seeing how troublesome it would be to write the contract for her at that moment, Vorgath just dismissed it entirely. It wasn't worth the hassle.
The young woman was sitting on the couch, waiting for Vorgath to finish whatever he was doing.
"Are you done? If so, please return the paper and the pen. I don't want to lose it," she said.
Vorgath did as she told him. Things didn't work out for him, but he still found a safe place to hide from the policemen outside.
"Are you buying any books or what?" the woman asked.
The couch was spacious, so Vorgath sat beside her.
"What happened to your eyes?" he asked.
A moment of silence passed between the two. She sighed.
"An accident two years ago with a beast from the dungeon," she explained, intertwining her hands. "I… I would do anything to get my sight back, but the powerful healers are just too expensive, so there's nothing I can do… This bookstore will never give me a stable income, so I'll just live with it."
Vorgath didn't say a word. He didn't know what to say to her. The only thing that came to his mind was a promise.
"I'll come back in the future and heal your eyes," he said. "What's your name? Mine's Alex."
To humans, it was better to use his human name. Vorgath had no idea if the people on Earth had any records about the demon Vorgath. If they did, well, then sharing his name while being such a weakling was just stupid.
"Yulla," she said, frowning. "Why are you giving me false hopes? This is not something you do to a lovely woman like me!"
There was just no way she would believe Vorgath's promise. She couldn't see him, sure, but she could feel he didn't have the presence nor the aura of powerful healers. So, if he wasn't a healer, how could he heal her?
"I'm not giving you false hopes," he said. "Mark my words, I'll heal you. I have to leave now. Take care, Yulla."
Vorgath left the bookstore. The policemen who were outside weren't there anymore, so he could leave without having to worry about being chased by them.
The very first thing he had to do was clean himself and change clothes. With his current looks, everyone would stare at him with disgust, and having any civilized conversation was akin to impossible.
The original owner of this body had a place to shower: an abandoned building where some other homeless people lived. For some reason, the water supply of that place was still running, so most of the homeless people in the region used the same building to sleep and shower. Vorgath was just one of many who didn't have anything to their names.
The building wasn't that far from that alley. All he had to do was move through a couple more alleys and he was there.
A man was in the front, close to the iron fence surrounding the abandoned building.
"Alex?" the man said when he spotted him. "What happened? You look like shit."
Looking like shit was a compliment to him. He was badly injured—so much that he actually died in the process.
"This is not something I want to share," Vorgath said. "If that isn't a problem to you."
"Not at all, young man. And you are lucky, the shower is free to use. Go there and clean yourself. I'll lend you some new clothes."
Alex's previous clothes weren't decent even if they weren't ragged by the blows he received, but after the attack he suffered, the clothes were just too ruined. He needed new ones.
"Thank you," Vorgath said. "I'll make it up to you."
"Don't mind it, kid. Go fast before someone else takes the shower."
Once inside the building, Vorgath went to the back area. The building was once a small gym in the neighborhood. The old owner didn't make enough money to keep it running, so he just abandoned the place.
There was just one bathroom with a shower at the back. It wasn't enough for all the homeless people living in the building. Fights for it were constant, so when Vorgath saw the shower empty, he really felt lucky.
"At least this is working for me," he thought.
Vorgath took off his clothes and tossed them to the side, then felt the cold water run over his body, giving him the chills. A bath like that wasn't relaxing at all, but it was good for the skin and the hair. It served its purpose in cleaning the dirt and the blood off his body.
Feeling refreshed by the end of it, he saw some clothes flying across the bathroom. It didn't have a door, so anyone could enter and see him there.
"There's your clothes," a male voice said.
Vorgath changed. His clothes were much better now. They weren't ragged, but were second-hand, old clothes donated by shelters.
"Better than nothing, I guess."
Back in the day, Vorgath dressed in luxurious clothing with jewelry more expensive than castles. But now, he felt better having that basic clothing on his body. It felt much more… deserving.
He looked around, seeing a few people sleeping on the floor or using drugs in the corners. He had to start making his contracts, but there was just no way in hell he would have intimate relations with any of the women in that place.
"I need to boost the benefits gained from the contract, so I must find a clean woman at least…"
Vorgath left the building—he thanked the man for the clothes before leaving. There was one person he knew his contract would work. The building he lived in was near one of the many universities in the city. A girl there was kind enough to always talk to him and give him some food when he needed.
Despite being in that situation, Alex was good-looking. Perhaps that was what the girl sought, or maybe she was just kind-hearted toward people who needed help. Either way, he knew how to help her.
He walked a few blocks, reaching a small river with a patch of grass close to it. The girl was there, sitting on the grass, her hair moving with the wind. When she saw him, she smiled.
"Alex, I was starting to get worried about you."
They met in the same place two days a week. Same place, same hour. This time, he was late.
When the excitement of seeing Vorgath there vanished, she realized he was in a bad shape.
"What happened to you?"
The girl got up and ran to Alex, grabbing both of his arms. "You have bruises all over your body!"
"A few thugs beat me up in the alley," he said, "nothing for you to worry about. Look, I need to talk to you in private. Can we do it?"
She had never heard him talk like that before.
"Are you in trouble? I don't know if I can help you... You know I don't have money, and my parents don't even know I have a homeless friend."
Vorgath wasn't upset with her. Their friendship really was strange.
"You can rest assured, I am in no trouble. I just need to talk about something important," Vorgath explained.
Even though it felt strange to go somewhere private with him, she went anyway.
"Alright. We can talk in the park. There's almost no one there," she said.
The park was close by. As they walked, a shadowy figure followed Vorgath, blending in with the busy crowd.