Since he was currently hunkering down in a clothing store, there was no reason that Seth could find to stay in his current attire. For one, they were in absolute tatters after so many different fights, unfortunately built for conformity over combat. A clear design flaw.
Secondly, after wearing them for so long, even in his catatonic cocoon state, the ratty rags that had once been his work suit was absolutely soaked with sweat. Thankfully that was the only body fluid, as his cocoon had seemingly slurped up all the bloodstains for the pittance of nutrition it gave him. Yet despite the stains no longer being there, they still left a scar of psychological filth.
So, it was time for a little bit of shopping. Or would it be more akin to shoplifting at this point?
Shrugging off the inconsequential thoughts of a more civilised time, Seth perused through the clothing that he could find that wasn't half destroyed by the previous tenants or stained in the blood of Bob's kills.
