Lord of Mysteries: The Assassin's Dark Path

At seven in the evening, Varina returned home early, feeling unusually relaxed.

This should have been a mundane occurrence, but over the past week, his life had undergone significant changes, and this rare moment of peace was a welcome reprieve.

Still groggy from his restless sleep the night before, Varina decided not to study tonight. Instead, he planned to review the recent days' events, identify any overlooked issues, consider his next steps, and head to bed early.

First, he took stock of his gains from the past few days' ventures:

• A revolver with a holster and 30 brass bullets.

• A double-edged iron dagger.

• An anonymous bank check for 150 pounds.

• Roughly 100 pounds in cash.

He pocketed a small amount of loose change and carefully tucked the rest into a cloth pouch, which he rolled up and stashed in a corner under the bedboards. It wasn't that he didn't want to hide it better—his cramped living space simply left him with no other options.

With his belongings secure, Varina sat on the chair and reflected on the past few days.

Everything seemed fine overall.

The most nerve-wracking incident was being followed last night, but he had successfully shaken off his pursuers. If nothing unusual happened in the next few days, he could confirm his safety.

As for his plans:

After work tomorrow, he would head to the Braveheart Bar to check if the gathering hosted by the "Eye of Wisdom" senior was still on.

Hopefully, it would be. Better yet, he might be able to purchase the formula for the "Assassin" potion.

If he obtained the formula, he could try sourcing the ingredients from the flea market at the Blood Boil Tavern—assuming, of course, he first managed to acquire enough gold pounds.

Anything beyond that wasn't worth considering for now.

Life seldom followed plans to the letter; surprises were inevitable.

---

The next day, Varina, fully rested, followed his usual schedule and went to work at the factory.

Today's workload was predictably heavy—because it was Susan's day off.

All day long, even during their lunch break, he and John had their minds entirely occupied with the accounts, barely exchanging any small talk.

When the six o'clock chime of the clocktower echoed, they finally heaved a collective sigh of relief.

John stretched with an exaggerated motion and said, "One more day to push through, and then I'll have two whole days off!"

Like Varina, John had arranged a shift swap to combine his day off with his regular rotation, creating a rare "long" weekend.

Varina nodded. "Yeah, though Susan and I will end up just as busy as today when the time comes."

"Don't forget, when you were off a few days ago, Susan and I had to power through just the same," John added with a smirk. "And trust me, those two days will definitely be worse than today."

"Thanks for the hard work. Want to grab dinner together? My treat, coffee included," Varina offered with a smile.

"Too bad I have something at home tonight," John said regretfully.

After all, it wasn't every day Varina offered to treat someone. Who knew how long it'd be until the next time?

"No worries, we can do it tomorrow."

With more money in his pocket, Varina's generosity came more easily than before. If not for concerns about acting too differently from his usual self, he might've offered to treat John to dinner tonight as well.

"Sounds good. Tomorrow, then!"

With that, John slung his satchel over his shoulder and asked, "Heading out?"

"Of course."

The two left together but parted ways at the factory entrance.

Varina made his way to his usual café and ordered a meal of potato stew with beef, two slices of black rye bread, and a cup of plain coffee.

Today's meal was slightly better than yesterday's, and as he waited for it, he felt a small sense of anticipation.

That was when everything took a sudden and violent turn.

A man dressed as a worker strolled past Varina but abruptly swung a concealed rock at the back of his head.

The strike was fast and vicious.

Varina staggered but managed to stay upright, barely avoiding being knocked out cold.

He swayed on his feet, too disoriented to demand an explanation, when three other men rose from their seats in the café.

"This is Dead Eel business—stay out of it!" one of them barked, clearing the place.

For ordinary citizens, staying away from gang disputes was a natural instinct. Though they hesitated, reluctant to leave their meals untouched, the patrons quickly fled. Even the café staff crouched behind the counter, praying not to be dragged into the chaos.

"Kid, you've got a hard head. Most people would've been out cold from that hit," a tall, scrawny man with seaweed-like blue hair said smugly as he stepped forward.

"You think you're clever, huh? Playing Kirk like a fool? Let me tell you something—Kirk couldn't catch you because he's a complete idiot!"

The man's arrogance was palpable as he gestured expansively.

"You've read books, haven't you? Ever heard Roselle's famous saying, 'Wherever one treads, traces are left behind'? It took me less than a day and a few questions to piece together your description."

"Hah, it was child's play."

Varina, still battling the dizziness from the attack, finally understood how he had slipped up.

Seeing Varina clutching his head in silence, the man grew bolder and taunted, "You know, I should thank you. If not for you, the boss wouldn't have lost faith in Kirk. Once I bring you in, his spot will be mine!"

As the man boasted, Varina suddenly sprang into action.

Thanks to his incessant chatter, Varina had managed to shake off the worst of his dizziness.

He shoved the table beside him at his attackers and bolted for the door.

The thug guarding the entrance sneered and swung a heavy fist at him, confident it would knock the fight out of this scrawny man.

But to his shock, Varina dodged nimbly, sidestepping the punch and using the man's momentum to shove him toward the others.

Varina burst out the door and took off running, the gangsters hot on his heels.

He needed to find somewhere dark to lose them—or at least hold out until nightfall, when his chances of escape would improve.

Having walked this route to work for over a year, Varina knew the area better than the Greenfield Road. A few quick turns, and he slipped into a maze of dilapidated houses and alleys.

The area was a labyrinth for outsiders, but Varina's familiarity allowed him to navigate through the shadows.

Half an hour later, he emerged alone from the other side of the neighborhood, his pursuers left far behind.

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