The sheer contrast between Jakob and Sybil was something that was quite hard to ignore. A man of Jakob's caste was, simply, a mule for labor, in the eyes of the city itself. The Citadel of Viden had very little value in those that toiled without a particular trade, giving them such a damning title of 'Precariat'. That was their existence, after all. A precarious spiral, that perpetuates itself. There was no chance of escape, truthfully speaking. The only way out was through crime, or somehow getting an education that was greater than what the average man could afford, in the lower districts. Jakob, at the very least, didn't appear to Sybil as someone without means, someone who was damned by his birth or intelligence. The student's eyes slowly trace across his form, for a long few moments. He wasn't a Precariat. At least, if he was, it was only when it came to the legality of the matter. Some sort of gleaming intellect was behind Jakob's eyes.
One that set him apart from the other.
Sybil could see it. It was obvious by the way the man spoke, as he ate. His body, hardened by labor that was likely seen as beneath many people, but profited by all, was a vessel for something else. Intelligence was not something erupted from birth, after all. And even a savant, with all the natural intellect in the world in a given trade, could be completely senseless, and functionally useless. A slow nod, is given, thinking the man's words over for a moment. "Mm? Oh, a friend of mine helped me. Well, I say helped, but really, all she did was bring up a wagon for me to use. You hitched a ride with a corpse, from the time that you left the Devil's Advocate, to this room." Sybil makes mention of easily, scratching at the chin, as the words are spoken, as though details were being actively glossed over. Sybil wasn't going to be admitting that she was a connection to the underworld of Viden. But the student was a terrible liar, and trusted the man too much to directly speak falsehoods.
The student's eyes slide to the side, at the mention of judges and just punishment. Sybil wasn't ignorant, of Viden's inaccuracy when it came to the matters of the law. While ignorant to why Viden is so devoid of publicly conducted crime thanks to the Intelligence Authority, it was clear that the Court's rulings are not particularly tempered by sound logic at all times. Experience was key, to enforcing the law publicly, and it was something that the judges that Sybil had seen, simply, did not have. It was as though there was simply two responses to the ordeal on offer by the judges. They would either act too softly, swayed by the illogical, and the sweetened stories of the downtrodden. Or, they persecute in a way that is overbearing, going too far with rulings, and giving a punishment that was either damning for something that didn't particularly require it, or something that simply likely would have been better off to simply kill the criminal.
It's not long before the student's gaze returns to Jakob, as he asks about the nature of the word that was spoken. Indeed, it was slang, and the student wasn't entirely proud of knowing what it meant, but it was a useful word. And sometimes, one needs to utilize slang to convey very specific things without having to rely on the clunky conventions of the Common tongue. "Criminals tend to think that there is some unspoken code of conduct between them. Like a sort of Gentleman's Parley, or something. You don't confess the crimes of the people that you witness. Running to the authorities, typically, is seen as snitching." A shrug of the shoulders is given, as the student's gaze settles on Jakob, "But it can be minor things, as well. Like simply calling out a student who is using tutors, against the professor's judgement on the matter. It's just telling on people to anyone that can punish them, honestly." A slow cant of the head is given.