Souma watched, impressed, as Galina gracefully scaled the wall before him. Like Galina, he had traded robes for rough-made tunic and trousers, his straw hat beaten and worn from years of weather. Torn boots of cloth and hide matched his gloves, but as he slipped his cane through his tunic and scaled the wall after Galina, they proved to be more than patchwork clothing.
Curved, metal spikes secured with cloth around his hands and feet dug firmly into the wall, finding even the smallest purchase and turning them into easy steps for the practiced Yakuza. He scaled the structure with ease, muscles pulling and pushing him up swift and sure, right behind his partner. Quickly undoing the cloth ties that held the claws in place as he reached the top of the wall, Souma stashed them in a small pouch at his side, before drawing his staff once more and bouncing down from wall to low roof to ground.
He hit the ground in a crouch, legs collapsing swiftly to absorb the shock with only the barest whisper of sound. His staff touched earth shortly after, and was then his cane once more, supporting a tired, hardworking man on his way back home.
Or that's what he would be, save for the myriad of tricks and traps stored in pouches and pockets on his person, and for the wicked grin he returned to Galina as they made their move.
Side-by-side, they moved slowly towards the warehouse in question. Souma's need for a cane kept his steps short, but it meant they had more time to watch their surroundings. Where others might be, how they walked or where they were looking. Openings in buildings or walls that might serve as lookout posts, or guards who might have the misfortune of deciding to accost them.
There was the terrain as well, to consider. Hard-packed earth, worn down under thousands of footsteps, were hard as stone underfoot. Their steps -soft as they were- still kicked up wisps of dust and sand, and those who stomped across, or who's horses clopped by, were easily heard across the expansive compound. Good ground for running, for fighting, for horses, not for hiding oneself, a trap, or a body.
But there were gardens, too. Small pockets of life carefully cultivated away from buildings. Copses of bamboo hugging shrines or statues. Tenderly-trimmed cherry trees or arrangements of flowering brush. There was even a small pond nearby, the steady echo of it's fountain keeping time with them as they made their way. Beauty to be seen from the structures where these people lived and worked, but set far enough away to not be used against them.
At least, to some extent.
"We enter, see setup..." Souma whispered the words as they walked, face angling slightly towards Galina. A conversation between family at the end of the day, spoken in a place where privacy was at a premium. Those who lived here found time to share quiet words and sacred moments alone when they could. "How well led. How supplies kept. How well watched. Let us know where walk, what take, when leave."
He likely didn't need to tell Galina any of this, but the words rose from years of repetition. How many times had he heard similar words from his father or mentors? How many times had he said the same to Daisuke or Goemon? The one in charge shared the information, the ones following found how best to use it. Souma didn't doubt Galina, of anyone he had worked with, Ai or Daisuke were the only ones he might trust more... simply because of how often they had worked together. But Galina wasn't a simple hired hand, she was a master in her own right, bearing a skillset that both overlapped his own and moved beyond. She would know exactly what she needed to do when they stepped inside.
And as they stepped inside, they found themselves greeted by a maze of crates, sacks and leather cases. Some form of organization was there, maybe by type, stacks and piles separated by narrow paths on the floor. Only the center was bare, a loading area for the carts that were brought it, people weaving their way back and forth to load and unload as needed. It was a busy scene, everyone moving to their own purpose, weaving fearlessly among the supplies as they vanished and other reappeared.
Souma had to pause and pull his hat down, shadowing his eyes from the flickering lights that illuminated the interior... and hiding the wide, gleaming grin that was growing on his lips.
"Perfect." The words dripped from between his teeth with feral excitement, Souma gently nudging them towards one side and the piles of supplies scattered around there. "Now, to find our share..."