Lord of Mysteries: The Assassin's Dark Path

The lock on the president's office door was exceptionally sturdy. Despite Varina's numerous attempts, progress remained elusive.

Forcing it open?

No luck—his strength wasn't enough to break the lock.

Using the dagger to push the latch back?

The door frame protruded too much; the dagger couldn't even reach the latch.

Picking the lock with a wire?

It might work, but the problem was Valina had no idea how to do it.

Kicking the door down?

The part-time accountants would return soon, and the noise would surely alert the guards.

"I refuse to believe a living man can be defeated by a lifeless door!" Frustrated after his futile efforts, Varina couldn't help but scrub his head vigorously.

At this moment, he couldn't help envying Sequence 9 "Apprentices."

If he were an Apprentice, he could simply use the extraordinary ability Open Door to resolve the issue—or even bypass the door entirely by creating a mystical door on the wall itself.

Speaking of Apprentices, their abilities were incredibly versatile and effective. No wonder living low-rank Beyonders in this Sequence were so rare; they almost always ended up becoming mystical items instead.

Perhaps his frantic hair-tousling had jogged his thoughts, as a breakthrough idea suddenly came to him.

Why fixate on the door to enter the room? Just because the door doesn't open doesn't mean you can't get inside. After all, isn't that how he got into the building in the first place?

With his thinking expanded, solutions began to present themselves.

Recalling the building's structure, Varina devised a plan: climb the exterior wall to the balcony of the president's office and enter from there.

This idea was feasible but carried certain risks.

While climbing, his weight would rest entirely on a gas pipe narrow enough to grip with one hand. It was far less sturdy than the main pipe he had used earlier, which was as thick as a person's thigh.

Still, Varina decided to give it a try.

He moved to the corner opposite the restroom, carefully stepping on the edge of the wooden staircase to descend half a level until he reached a landing. There, he found a small ventilation window.

Varina opened the window and slipped his upper body through. Pressing his hands against the frame, he slowly shifted his posture from facing down to facing up.

He then grabbed the upper edge of the frame with one hand while using the sill as support with the other, lifting himself up and eventually sitting on the frame.

The next part was relatively straightforward. He pulled his legs up, standing entirely on the frame, one hand holding the top edge for balance and the other reaching for the gas pipe above.

Just as he was testing the pipe's strength, voices suddenly drifted up from the first floor—the part-time accountants had returned!

"Damn it, I've wasted too much time. They've already finished their coffee!"

Acting decisively, Varina swung himself off the window frame, hanging entirely by one hand from the pipe.

Before long, he heard the creaking of the wooden stairs as they bore the accountants' weight, the sound growing closer.

"Hmm, York, did you leave this window open when we left?"

The woman was observant and noticed the small oversight Varina had left in his haste.

"No, but are you sure it was closed before?"

"Well... not entirely sure..."

The two glanced outside briefly but, seeing nothing unusual, shut the window and continued upstairs.

"Thank goodness this pipe is sturdy. And thank goodness they didn't spot me…"

Varina stretched out his cramped limbs, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

Hanging from the pipe, he inched forward hand over hand until he reached the balcony of the president's office, where he vaulted over the railing.

The glass double doors separating the balcony from the office were locked with a simple latch—far easier to deal with than the main door.

Finally, the dagger came in handy.

Varina inserted the blade into the gap, lightly prying the latch open.

Stepping cautiously inside, Varina surveyed the layout of the president's office.

The space was simple yet elegant. Facing the balcony was a well-crafted wooden tea table, upon which lay a bookmarked novel.

How could he instantly identify it as a novel?

The answer was obvious—it was titled Storm Manor, none other than "Magician" Fors Wall's celebrated work.

A half-full bookshelf lined one wall near the tea table, though Varina suspected it was likely stocked entirely with fiction. He decided against verifying this for now.

On the opposite side stood a large, ornate desk, far more luxurious than those outside. Behind the desk was a high-back chair, and in the corner behind that stood a coat rack.

Varina decided to search the desk first.

Even without additional lighting, his extraordinary Dark Vision made the task straightforward. The only challenge was avoiding making too much noise to prevent alerting the accountants on the other side of the wall.

The desk had three drawers on each side. As Varina opened the first one on the left, he was immediately startled and quickly pushed it shut, the motion producing a small noise.

Inside was a black figurine—a large cross with a bloodied man hanging upside down.

It was a depiction of the True Creator.

"Calm down, it's just a figurine..." Varina patted his chest in an attempt to steady his nerves. "This is the dockworkers' union at the East Balam shipyard. Even though this is a year before the original story begins, it's perfectly normal for someone here to be a follower of the True Creator."

Pressing a hand to his racing heart, he finally managed to calm himself.

That scare had shaken him to the core—his face was probably pale.

He now fully understood the saying, "The more you know, the greater the danger."

If someone unaware of the True Creator had seen that figurine, they might have brushed it off without a second thought. But for someone like him, who was in the know, such discoveries could lead to nervous breakdowns if encountered repeatedly.

After mentally fortifying himself, Varina opened the second drawer on the left.

This time, he smiled.

Inside was something familiar and comforting: an image of a dignified man—none other than the Founder and Protector, William I.

It was a stack of grey-and-black-patterned 10 pounds notes.

Counting the cash, Varina found eight bills in total.

No wonder this is enshrined in law as a quick way to make money—it really delivers results!

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