Habitual Offender

Two days later, having adapted to the changes brought by the potion and retracted the spirituality overflowing from his body, Cyril arrived at Owen's home once again.

Then, the two left together for the Backlund Bridge area, finding a shady inn that required no identity registration two streets away from the Black Wolf Gang.

Staying until about four in the morning, Cyril woke Owen, who was fast asleep on the bed.

The latter yawned and brewed himself a cup of coffee prepared in advance, thick enough to be viscous, then gulped it down like water before reaching up to slap his cheeks repeatedly, trying to wake himself up.

Seeing this, Cyril reached out and pointed at him; a pale, bluish light shot from his fingertip, shattering the moment it touched Owen and transforming into a layer of white frost that covered his body.

Hiss~

The sudden stimulation of cold made Owen gasp, his body shivering uncontrollably.

Cyril asked casually, "Are you more awake now?"

Owen nodded repeatedly with a resentful look in his eyes, "Awake, I'm awake, I almost caught a cold."

"Then let's go."

Cyril said this offhandedly, then reached out and pressed his hand against the wall near the window, opening a phantom door out of thin air.

This was a room he had specifically chosen; it was close to the street and only on the second floor, so they could just jump down when leaving without any danger or alerting anyone.

In a place where no one noticed, two figures passed through the wall one after another, dropping from the second floor to the ground.

Cyril looked back at the inn's ground-floor porter's lodge, went over to place the key on the front desk, and then left silently.

Throughout the process, the old man on duty was dozing off in a half-awake, half-asleep state, completely unaware of Cyril's appearance and departure.

Afterward, Owen took out the route map he had drawn in advance and led Cyril toward the street where the Black Wolf Gang was located.

By the time they reached their destination, they hadn't encountered a single patrolling officer, and the route map Owen had painstakingly drawn became useless.

Finding that he had done all that work for nothing, Owen was speechless, "No wonder they say the security in the Backlund Bridge area is on par with the East District; the officers here have an inescapable responsibility."

"Being an officer is just a job; it's not worth risking one's life for," Cyril shook his head slightly, not surprised by this situation.

Like the East District, the Backlund Bridge area was a place where various gangs, vagrants, and bottom-tier laborers congregated, so poor security was normal, and the Loen government could only choose to turn a blind eye in this regard.

Officers were merely low-level executors of government departments, and with the intentional indulgence from above, they wouldn't look for trouble for themselves, so the officers responsible for patrolling here at night basically only wandered on fixed streets and would not easily go to other places.

This was a tacit understanding between the officers and the gangs to maintain the appearance of order.

Where the streetlights couldn't reach, Cyril stood in the shadows, silently observing the place not far away where the doors were tightly shut but dim yellow light leaked through the cracks.

Beside him, Owen held a Citrine Pendant in his hand, whispering divination statements under his breath.

A few breaths later, the Citrine Pendant in his hand began to swing clockwise.

Glancing at his divination result, he reached out to grab the swinging pendant and then changed the question to continue the divination.

A few minutes later, having finished the divination, Owen looked at Cyril and said, "We guessed right; the Black Wolf Gang keeps a large amount of cash in the casino."

"There is a Beyonder inside, not a high sequence, and the danger level fluctuates, but the greatest danger doesn't come from him personally; it's highly likely he can call for support, so we must be careful and quick, trying our best not to be discovered."

Cyril nodded gently, "No problem, you lead the way."

As he spoke, he reached out and tugged at the air in front of him, creating a lightless curtain out of thin air to drape over them both.

Under the night, the "Black Curtain" of a Trickmaster had a decent concealment effect; of course, this only worked visually against ordinary people.

With the cover of the "Black Curtain," the two sleepy-eyed guards outside the casino door didn't notice their approach at all.

Of course, they didn't use the front door, choosing instead a wall far from the entrance.

After passing through the wall, Cyril heard the sound of splashing water, a pungent odor, and a figure with his back to him, head buried and trembling slightly.

The inside of this wall was a washroom, and a washroom with someone in it at that.

Cyril approached expressionlessly and, before the other person could react and turn around, clenched his fist and struck the back of his neck.

Zzzzt~

"Ugh..."

After a short sound of electricity mixed with a low, muffled groan, the man fell straight down.

This was an "Electric Shock" from a Trickmaster combined with a full-force punch.

The intensity of the current wasn't very high, but combined with his punch, it was enough to send an adult into a state of brief Paralysis and unconsciousness.

Cyril looked down at the man's gradually dampening crotch and felt that even if he woke up, he wouldn't make a scene for a while, at least not until he changed his pants.

Afterward, he locked the washroom door from the inside and asked Owen, who was standing to the side, dumbfounded and not yet recovered:

"Which direction?"

Owen, having come to his senses, looked at Cyril suspiciously; he suspected that this classmate and friend of his was a habitual offender, otherwise how could he be so proficient.

Pursing his lips, Owen, who suspected he had boarded a pirate ship, collected his thoughts, picked up a twig he had found on the street earlier, and tossed it.

As the twig landed with a pat, he turned and pointed to the wall behind him, "This way."

Under Owen's guidance, the two easily avoided those in the casino who hadn't gone to sleep yet, reached the third floor, and found the room where the safe was kept.

Just as Cyril pressed his hand against the doorknob, intending to use his ability for Door Opening, his movements suddenly paused, and an image of the surroundings being shrouded by a curtain of shadows appeared in his mind for no reason.

The entire casino was covered by an invisible curtain of shadows, and behind that curtain, it felt as if an eye was watching this place.

Shadow curtain, an eye—he almost instantly associated these with the True Creator worshipped by the Aurora Order.

Could I really be this unlucky?

Although he knew that gangs operating in Backlund more or less had some background, he didn't expect them to be connected to either Outer Deities or Evil Gods; he just wanted to earn some extra money...

With a sigh, he released his grip on the doorknob and looked back at Owen: "Perform a divination."

Although he didn't quite understand why Cyril was suddenly so cautious, Owen still obediently took out the Citrine Pendant.

Before he could even finish reciting the divination statement, the surrounding shadows suddenly came to life, transforming into an illusory, spike-filled maw that lunged toward the two of them.

"Close your eyes!"

Cyril shoved Owen, his other hand held across his chest, his pupils constricting sharply as they glowed with white light.

The next second, a flash several times more blinding than the flashbulb of an old-fashioned camera erupted from his body, illuminating the entire third-floor corridor so brightly that not a single trace of shadow or darkness could remain.

With the appearance of the intense flash, the illusory maw formed from solidified shadows instantly thinned, like paper thrown into a bonfire, and dissipated into nothingness in less than a breath's time.

Although the shadow maw had appeared and vanished in less than a second, the close-range ambush still left Cyril feeling as if his right arm, held across his chest, had been bitten; it was now completely numb.

At the same time the shadow maw vanished, he heard a muffled groan from behind the door in front of him; it sounded like an old man, seemingly suffering from the backlash caused by his spell being disrupted.

Without the slightest hesitation, Cyril took the remaining iron-black charm from his pocket and recited the activation incantation in ancient Hermes:

"Slumber!"

The iron-black charm turned to ash in his hand, and at the same time, the light that had dimmed following the disappearance of the flash grew even heavier, with the faint, illusory sound of a choir echoing in his ears.

Feeling the surrounding area, which had been restless due to the flash, settle down once more, Cyril breathed a slight sigh of relief; there was no need to worry about being ganged up on.

He then turned his head to look at Owen, who was painfully squeezing his eyes shut, holding a pistol in his hand but failing to disengage the safety after a long while.

Clearly, he hadn't listened to his warning to close his eyes in time and had been blinded by the flash.