Interrogation

After putting away the shriveled container, Lorry kept moving. He took a second one from his pocket and continued releasing its contents into the room through the metal tube.

Soon, he covered his nose and retreated into the building's shadow.

Lorry took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and told himself:

I'll go in after ten minutes.

According to the Fat Apothecary, the Hypnotic Gas took thirty seconds to take effect. A single breath would render someone unconscious for at least half an hour.

The weaker a person's constitution, the longer they would remain unconscious.

Conversely, the stronger they were, the sooner they would wake.

But even a strong man or a low-sequence Beyonder would not wake before that minimum time had elapsed-these were figures he had obtained from actual test subjects.

It had two characteristics: intense activity and instability.

The former referred to how efficiently the Hypnotic Gas spread through a medium; the latter meant that once exposed to air, it would rapidly dissipate within a very short time.

The entire process would take no more than five minutes.

To be safe, Lorry chose to double his waiting time, lest poor ventilation cause him to fall victim to it as well...

Amid the ticking of the watch hands, ten minutes passed in a flash.

Lorry put away his pocket watch and approached a stone pillar supporting the porch. Gripping the raised decorative carvings on its surface, he pulled himself up with alternating arms and easily climbed onto the second-floor terrace.

They didn't even close the window. Their awareness of burglary prevention is practically nonexistent... If thieves got in because of your negligence, your employer would probably fire you...

Good thing I'm the one who came today. You won't have an employer much longer...

Through the half-open window, Lorry could clearly see bookshelves, a desk and chairs, pens, ink, and other items inside, allowing him to identify it as a study.

He vaulted lightly inside, opened the door, and stepped out.

"Cyril and his woman sleep in the second-floor bedroom. The bodyguards and maids are downstairs." Recalling the layout he had observed yesterday, Lorry silently made his way down the stairs toward the ground floor.

He was worried that tonight's proceedings might take a while, so he intended to give them another dose.

Two minutes later.

Using a fork he had picked up in the kitchen, Lorry picked the locks on the two bodyguards' bedroom doors.

-This was knowledge bestowed upon him by half a dose of the Marauder Potion.

Even the most sophisticated mechanical locks were as good as nonexistent before Lorry. A single glance was all he needed to grasp their internal workings.

He approached the two bodyguards' beds, took out a vial of liquid Hypnotic Potion, and dripped a quarter of its contents into each man's mouth.

Soon, Lorry repeated the process, dividing the remaining potion equally among the two maids and the woman in the upstairs bedroom, then opened the bundle he had brought with him.

These were his purchases from the department store before attending the gathering.

Inside were candles, moon flowers, and other items.

-All were essential materials for performing the "Soundproofing" Ritual Magic.

Lorry took a deep breath and, following his memories of his previous successful attempt, placed the materials in their respective positions.

Obscure, tongue-twisting syllables emerged from his mouth.

"I beseech the power of Evernight..."

An invisible wind blew from the altar and soon enveloped the bedroom.

Crimson moonlight spilled through the window, silently illuminating the three people's faces. The room was deathly still, their breathing clearly audible.

Lorry dragged Cyril's woman into the small washroom and let out a soft, long breath.

"Tonight's preparations are complete...

"Now for the main course."

Candlelight flickered.

In his sleep, Cyril suddenly caught a foul stench.

His steady snoring stopped abruptly. An anguished expression crossed his face, and he retched groggily a few times before slowly opening his eyes.

Before he could investigate the source of the stench, Cyril felt excruciating pain register in his brain and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Aaaah! My arms! My legs! Somebody help!

"You two, get up here!

"There's an intruder!"

The agony brought him fully awake. Realizing that all four of his limbs had been broken and he was powerless to resist, he immediately began frantically calling for the bodyguards downstairs.

Sitting on a stool a short distance away, Lorry watched Cyril expressionlessly as tears and snot streamed down his face, a sense of absurdity rising within him.

You break the hands and feet of pickpockets whenever they disobey you or fail to meet their quotas. I thought you were cold-blooded by nature and had no fear of such punishments. Turns out you're afraid of pain too...

You're just an ordinary person too...

He suddenly felt something shatter softly in his mind.

-It was the instinctive fear of "One-Eyed" Cyril rooted deep within the original owner's heart through the Pickpocket Organization's relentless, day-after-day conditioning!

The boss can do anything!

Anyone who defies him will suffer the cruelest punishment!

That fear... had never disappeared, even after the original owner became an elite among the pickpockets and Cyril eagerly tried to win him over. It had only buried itself deeper.

Even Lorry, the body's current owner, had been unaware of this-he had only barely sensed it in the instant those emotional shackles shattered.

Perhaps I've been so cautious in dealing with Cyril because the original owner's lingering emotions were influencing me without my realizing it...

He pondered this and felt the conjecture was quite plausible.

Unfortunately, now isn't the time to study psychology... Lorry shook his head self-mockingly, stopped dwelling on the matter, and spoke calmly:

"It's no use.

"Even if you scream your throat raw, they won't hear you."

"Y-you killed them all?!" Cyril's agonized howls stopped abruptly. His single eye widened in terror as he looked up at Lorry.

Lorry smiled.

"That's not something you should be worrying about.

"I think you should be more concerned about yourself right now. For instance... whether you'll die today. Or perhaps... how you'll die today."

Perhaps the word "die" struck a nerve with Cyril.

He broke down at once.

"But I've never even met you!

"Did Calvin send you?

"Whatever he's paying you, I can pay double-no, triple! As long as I can afford it-no, no, I can even mortgage the bar and borrow the money!

"Friend, just name your price."

If I let you go now, I might be the one who dies. How could I be that stupid... And all this shouting-is it really just because you're

scared...

Or are you hoping to attract the attention of the neighbors, or even the Patrol Police... What a shame. Unlike the Seer pathway, Marauders can't perform Spirit Channeling. Otherwise, this would be much simpler...

Lorry sighed, raised a hand, and removed the False Face.

He thought revealing his real appearance might make their conversation more productive.

Sure enough, Cyril's body abruptly tensed.

"So it was you!

"You actually dared to come to Backlund!"

There seems to be more behind those words. Did someone warn him that I might be hiding in Backlund, but he didn't believe them? Lorry couldn't help frowning inwardly.

He exhaled silently and asked coldly, "What do you mean by that?"