They eventually found themselves in front of a modest inn called "The Siren's Rest." The building was old but well-maintained, with a warm glow coming from its windows and the sound of laughter and music spilling out from within.
"This looks promising," Yue said, her strength seemingly returning at the prospect of a proper bed.
Hajime nodded, reaching for the door. "Let's hope they have rooms available. And that they accept whatever form of payment we can scrape together."
As they stepped into the inn, the warm atmosphere enveloped them. The common room was filled with a diverse crowd - sailors, merchants, and what appeared to be visiting adventurers. The air was thick with the smell of ale, roasted meat, and pipe smoke.
The innkeeper, a portly man with a bushy beard and a friendly smile, looked up as they entered. "Welcome to The Siren's Rest, travelers! What can I do for you this fine evening?"
Hajime stepped forward. "We're in need of lodging for the night, and perhaps some information about the city."
The innkeeper's eyes twinkled with interest. "Ah, newcomers to Erisen, eh? Well, you've come to the right place. I've got rooms available, and there's no better spot in the city for gathering information than right here in my common room."
As Hajime began negotiating for their rooms, Satoru's attention was drawn to a group of rough-looking men in the corner. They were speaking in hushed tones, but his enhanced senses picked up fragments of their conversation.
"...shipment arriving tomorrow night..."
"...boss wants it dealt with quietly..."
"...could be trouble if the guard catches wind..."
Slave traders? Satoru's smile widened imperceptibly. It seemed that their arrival in Erisen might prove more interesting than he had initially thought. As Hajime finalized their lodging arrangements, Satoru made a mental note to share his observations later. After all, what was a grand adventure without a little intrigue and danger?
With rooms secured and the promise of a hot meal, the trio settled into a corner table. 
.........
......
...
As the moon climbed high over Erisen, casting long shadows across the sleeping coastal city, Satoru Gojo silently slipped out of The Siren's Rest. His movements were fluid, impeccable and refined, as he masked his presence with a level of skill that would have impressed even the most seasoned assassins. Neither Hajime's nor Yue's inhumanly sharp perceptions stirred as he vanished into the night.
The cobblestone streets, still damp from an earlier rain, reflected the moonlight in patches of silver. Satoru Gojo's footsteps were soundless as he meandered through the winding alleys and broad avenues of Erisen. 
To any late-night reveler or watchman who happened to catch a glimpse of him, he would have appeared as nothing more than an unrecognizable silhouette of a man, there one moment and gone the next.
Gone was the carefree smile and playful atmosphere that his companions had come to associate with him. In its place was an expression of emptiness—pure nihilism—a blank texture that revealed the true nature behind the mask he so often wore. His unseeing eyes were still hidden behind his ever-present cover of bandages.
His aimless wandering soon brought him to one of the seedier districts of Erisen. The smell of unwashed bodies, cheap alcohol, and desperation hung heavy in the air. It was here that Satoru Gojo's true purpose for the night revealed itself.