Lord of Mysteries: The Assassin's Dark Path

As evening fell, Varina returned from the West Borough to the Backlund Bridge district.

He was here to locate the "Bravehearts Bar."

Of course, this time, his purpose was merely to scout the area in advance. He had no intention of making direct contact just yet.

Although his other set of memories provided some guidance, every step he took still felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Verifying things beforehand gave him a much-needed sense of reassurance.

Varina recalled that the Bravehearts Bar in the Bridge district was a gathering spot for the Beyonder community, but he couldn't quite remember which specific street it was on.

After wandering and asking around for a good amount of time, he finally found the bar on Iron Gate Street, identifying it by its black wooden door and the burly guard standing by.

"So, it really exists! But not today—I'll wait until I'm better prepared before going in."

Withdrawing his gaze, he pretended to be just passing by and continued walking down the street, soon exiting Iron Gate Street from the other end.

About two hours later, after grabbing dinner outside, Varina finally returned to his tiny sanctuary. After a bath, he lazily leaned against the headboard, his mind drifting over ways to make money. Before long, sleep overtook him.

…

The next day at noon, Varina found himself once again in the Backlund University dormitory area.

Though his usual break lasted only one day, he had pre-arranged with John to swap shifts, giving him two consecutive days off.

"…I don't know if this was your good luck or mine. Haha! Anyway, when I asked my classmates about Roselle's notes, it didn't take long for them to deliver."

Hearing this, Varina couldn't help but laugh as well. Gently pushing aside the plain cup of coffee in front of him, he brought the books his cousin handed him closer.

"Let me take a look…"

Two books lay there: On the Origins of Ancient Fusacian and Hermesian Basics. Between them was a slip of paper, which must have been the Roselle note Reyes mentioned.

Varina picked up the top book and casually flipped through a few pages, though his real focus was on the content of the slip.

Eager to confirm his dreamlike memories through Roselle's ciphered text, his impatience was palpable.

What met his eyes was a line of crooked, twisted, and exaggeratedly large Chinese characters. Varina quickly deciphered the content:

"March 6th—Damn it, the food here is making me constipated!"

His pupils shrank abruptly.

Shock!

Even though he had mentally prepared himself, Varina was left dumbfounded, his scalp tingling.

It was all true!

So Roselle really was a transmigrator!

"Then… so am I?"

Varina felt as if he was dragged back to the night when his memories had first awakened, once again confronting that seemingly mundane yet terrifying question: Who am I?

Previously, his skepticism of the dreamlike memories and the constraints of his external identity had barely allowed him to suppress the emergence of another personality. But with each verification—especially the decisive proof from Roselle's note—he found himself teetering on the edge of losing control again.

Moments later, Reyes noticed something was off.

He had been aware that Varina was daydreaming since receiving the books but had assumed he was studying or memorizing something. It wasn't until Varina's expression turned stiff and tense that Reyes began to realize something unusual was happening.

"Hey, cousin, are you okay?"

Reyes instinctively patted Varina's shoulder, concern evident in his eyes.

"Huh?"

Varina snapped back to reality. "Cough, I'm fine. I just… remembered something."

He quickly closed the book in his hand, pressing it down over the slip to hide the crooked Chinese characters. Then, turning to Reyes, he asked almost reflexively:

"Reyes, let me ask you—what kind of person do you think I am?"

That was a difficult question.

Reyes initially thought of brushing it off with a few jokes, but a strange unease stopped him. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, contemplated for a moment, and replied:

"In my eyes, you're a strong person."

Varina was taken aback. "That's it?"

Reyes raised a hand, gesturing for him to be patient before continuing:

"You never ask others for help unless it's absolutely necessary. That's why I'd say you're strong."

"Besides that, you're also kind."

"Maybe you come across as distant or hard to approach, but that's just a surface impression. Deep down, you're afraid of troubling others—a unique form of kindness."

At this, Reyes turned to look at Varina, forcing a faint smile. "That's about it. Anything more, and I'll have to start listing your flaws."

"No, tell me more!"

Varina's tone grew slightly agitated, as he found that Reyes's seemingly offhand remarks somehow lifted a weight from his heart.

"More?" Reyes was troubled but reluctantly added, "Your flaws are tied to what I just said."

"Someone like you will struggle to build a solid network of connections."

"In other words, if you don't change, you'll have to work much harder than most people to achieve a fulfilling life."

Reyes suddenly straightened, fixing his gaze on Varina's eyes as he asked:

"Cousin, why not try changing yourself for once?"

The question hit Varina like a jolt. It felt as though Reyes had sensed something deeper.

But this wasn't something Reyes could solve.

With that thought, Varina drained the cup of coffee on the table, then stood up, pretending not to hear the underlying advice in Reyes's words.

"Thanks for your evaluation, Reyes."

"That's enough for today. I should head back."

Reyes immediately got up as well. "Alright. See you next month."

…

At 7 p.m., Varina arrived at the Bravehearts Bar on Iron Gate Street.

Pushing open the door, he was immediately met with the thick smell of alcohol mixed with strange odors, alongside the clamor of noise.

The environment made him uncomfortable, but he frowned and searched for the bar counter, eventually pushing his way through.

"A pint of Southville beer."

Not familiar with alcohol, he could only mimic Klein's choice from his memories.

"Five pence."

The bartender glanced at Varina. "If it's your first time drinking, I'd recommend the 'Half-and-Half.' It's smoother than Southville beer."

"Alright, let's go with that." Varina accepted the suggestion.

"Four and a half pence."

After counting out the coins, Varina received a large wooden mug filled with pale yellow liquid. Taking a cautious sip, he found it surprisingly sweet, without the bitterness he expected from beer. It was quite palatable.

He raised his mug in acknowledgment. "Not bad. Thanks for the suggestion."

"Just doing my job. Glad you like it."

Varina smiled and nodded. "If you could help me with one more thing, that would be even better. I'm looking for Karspars Kalinin."

The bartender's smile immediately stiffened. He gave Varina a scrutinizing look before jerking his chin toward a corner. "There—billiard room number two."

"Thanks again."

Varina lifted his mug and made his way toward the indicated room.

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