Lord of Mysteries: The Assassin's Dark Path

Walking through the night, Varina's excitement over his unexpected windfall gradually settled.

At the same time, his vigilance heightened.

He was, after all, carrying a hefty sum of money, and the East Borough was far from a safe place. In fact, in this part of town, a missing person was little more than a footnote—rarely pursued or questioned.

Barely a fifth of the way home, an uneasy feeling crept into Varina's heart. He couldn't tell if it was real danger or just the pressure playing tricks on his mind.

He kept walking, his eyes darting around, occasionally glancing behind him in an attempt to catch sight of something—anything.

But there was nothing.

Unbeknownst to him, Kirk and his men, seasoned in both pursuit and counter-surveillance, far outmatched Varina's street smarts.

Kirk noticed Varina's growing wariness and decided to act before things got out of hand.

Signaling to his scattered crew, he got a series of affirmative nods in return.

The men spread out without needing further instructions. Each knew their role in this silent hunt—an understanding honed by countless operations together. Some rushed ahead to set traps, others closed the distance between them and the target, while one ascended a nearby building to track the target's every move from above.

Within five minutes, they had spun an invisible web, ready to ensnare their prey.

And that's when a scout signaled back:

The target was gone.

Kirk could hardly believe it. Two of his best trackers—one on the ground, one on the roof—had lost him at the same time.

These were his gang's sharpest eyes!

"He's got to be nearby," Kirk said to his regrouped men. "With Black Owl on the roof, he couldn't have slipped away without a sound. Start searching—focus on the area where he disappeared!"

The gang scattered again, each combing a section of the vicinity. Meanwhile, Kirk inspected the alley where Varina had vanished, carefully studying the surroundings to deduce his escape route.

The alley connected two streets, short and narrow. Aside from the occasional side door and uneven walls of adjacent buildings, there seemed to be nowhere to hide.

"Where could he have gone?" Kirk muttered, baffled.

Varina, however, was crouched not far behind him, hidden in the shadows of a corner.

In truth, Varina hadn't actually spotted any pursuers. It was just the lingering unease that had spurred him to act.

He devised a simple plan: disturb the grass to flush out the snakes.

If someone was tailing him, they'd be forced to reveal themselves when he disappeared. If no one was following him, he'd simply wait in hiding for a while before continuing home.

By hiding, Varina could take control of the situation—no matter what.

And sure enough, within ten minutes of hiding, five or six men began searching the area. If they weren't after him, he wouldn't believe it, even under torture.

But now that he'd flushed the snakes out, what next?

What if they decided to stake out the area all night? What then?

Cursing himself for his lack of foresight, Varina realized he'd chosen a terrible hiding spot—one that now felt like a trap for him as well.

He couldn't leave, either. What if they pretended to leave but stayed to ambush him at the alley's exits?

And so, the silent standoff dragged on.

After more than half an hour, the gang members returned to Kirk, reporting that their search had turned up nothing, even in the surrounding streets.

Kirk had no choice but to admit failure.

Counting the initial delay, their target had been missing for over an hour. If he wasn't hiding nearby, he could easily have fled halfway across the East Borough by now.

"Let's head back and report to the boss. He'll know what to do," Kirk said, leading his men away.

Varina remained frozen in place, not daring to move. He waited until the dead of night, when even he was on the brink of passing out, before cautiously creeping out of the shadows.

He stayed low, moving through the darkened alleys until he'd left the district. Only then did he straighten up and continue walking normally.

Despite the twists and turns, Varina eventually made it home, safe and sound.

---

Back at the docks, Kirk and his men arrived just in time to witness the tail end of the gang war.

The two gangs had reached yet another uneasy truce and were now retrieving the wounded and a few unlucky souls who hadn't survived.

Generally speaking, gang fights were brutal but rarely fatal. Most avoided targeting those already down.

That said, injuries and disfigurements were another matter entirely.

In the end, the Dead Eels emerged victorious, claiming half a street and establishing a new boundary of control.

When Kirk reported to his boss, Kent, he found the man in good spirits. Capitalizing on the opportunity, Kirk delivered his version of events:

He praised Kent's foresight, noting that someone had indeed slipped through the VIP passage. Then he shifted the blame for losing the target, claiming the alley must have concealed a secret escape route.

Having just dealt a blow to Eugene and restored his pride, Kent was no longer fuming with rage. He dismissed Kirk's report with a cryptic smile and waved him off.

---

The next day, an exhausted Varina was awoken by the tower clock's seven chimes. Dragging himself out of bed, he forced himself to get ready for work.

For the first time since he started his job, he treated himself to breakfast outside.

When he arrived at the workshop, Susan was excitedly gossiping with John about the Dead Eels' recent misfortune.

Apparently, Susan's aunt—like Mr. Luca—had been questioned by the gang, learning that their base had been burgled two nights prior.

And, of course, what Susan knew quickly became common knowledge in the workshop.

Since Varina arrived late, he was the last to hear about it.

To the common folk of the East Borough, gangs were fearsome but respected entities. Hearing that someone had dared to steal from them evoked a mix of amazement and admiration.

The entire morning, whenever they had a moment to spare, his coworkers couldn't stop speculating about the mysterious thief—blissfully unaware that he was sitting among them.

For Varina, it was pure torment.

On one hand, he had to join in their chatter, pretending to be just as awestruck as they were.

On the other hand, listening to their increasingly outrageous theories made him want to sink into the ground from sheer embarrassment.

Thankfully, the ordeal lasted only until midday.

That afternoon, an even juicier piece of gossip arrived: the Dead Eels and Gray Rats had clashed again, this time in an all-out brawl on the streets the previous night.

Varina could hardly believe it.

A single, seemingly small act of his had escalated into a full-blown gang war!

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