Around eight o'clock in the evening, Varina returned to the East Bayron Dockyard in the dock area.
He planned to target the dockworkers' union.
In the darkness, the building belonging to the dockworkers' union, devoid of the daytime crowds and hustle and bustle, exuded a sense of tranquility under the crimson moonlight.
Several slightly drunk gangsters were on guard, having recently taken over from the Workers' Union Tavern.
They leaned against the lampposts of the gas streetlights or sat on wooden crates of packaged goods… only occasionally glancing up at the empty street.
This wasn't negligence on their part, but rather because night watch was more of a formality than a substance.
Varina hid in the shadows of a corner, observing and searching for loopholes in the guards, then, combining this with the information he had gathered during the day, planned his infiltration route.
In the past, he would never have dared to do such a thing, not even considering it. But now, he was not only doing it, but progressing rapidly.
With the aid of his dark vision, Varina's gaze gradually shifted from the street to the main building of the union, finally settling on a half-open window on the second floor facing the street.
The route was clear.
Next, Varina started from scratch, re-checking and clearing the path he had just traversed.
This time, he was far more meticulous than before. The
first time, the key was finding an entry route, focusing on feasibility; the second time, building on the first, primarily considered accessibility.
Simply put, the first time, Varina's focus was on "whether it's passable." To exaggerate a bit, as long as it was theoretically possible, even if the required maneuver involved a triple somersault followed by a handstand split, it didn't matter—as long as it was passable.
The second time, however, was different. Varina needed to consider his physical abilities, minimizing obstacles as much as possible, and finding simpler maneuvers to overcome unavoidable obstacles.
Time passed amidst the guards' casual conversation, and Varina finally found an excellent infiltration route.
Now, the real adventure was about to begin.
This scene resonated with certain scenes from another part of his memory, and Varina grinned, feeling a strange thrill.
"Ha, Ghostly Stealth, challenge begins."
Following his pre-planned strategy, Varina carefully moved through the shadows of lampposts, debris, and signs, quickly approaching the guild's two-story yellow building.
He avoided the first-floor entrance and went to the side of the building. Between the building and the adjacent building, there was a gap about a meter wide, where a large iron trash can was placed.
Varina tested it and found it stable enough, so he climbed onto it as planned.
Using the large trash can as a springboard and a wall-jumping maneuver, he successfully grabbed the gas pipe mounted on the exterior wall, then used his hands to pull himself up onto the pipe.
Such an action would be difficult for an ordinary person to do silently; Varina could only barely manage it thanks to his superhuman abilities.
Only after he had stabilized himself on the pipe did Varina let out a soft breath.
"What's that sound?"
A guard sitting on the steps by the door heard some slight movement and turned to look.
"What else could it be but those damned rats?" another guard spat. "Those stinking rats only deserve to eat garbage!"
The first guard nodded, abandoning his plan to get up and check.
Varina crouched on the gas pipe, feeling a slight tremor run through his body. This reaction was caused by both the tension of being discovered and the excitement of the novel experience.
"This is much more exciting than a game!"
Varina tried to calm himself down, carefully moving his feet, inching closer to his target—the half-open window.
Soon, he reached the windowsill and heard the scratching sound of a pen scratching paper inside.
Varina didn't know what was going on inside and dared not peek out, so he continued to stay in the shadows under the windowsill, listening for any sounds from inside.
After a while, the chimes of a clock came from the nearby clock tower, nine chimes in a row.
"Oh dear, it's already nine o'clock. Have you finished organizing your ledgers, York?"
It was a woman who spoke, and she seemed to be stretching. "The accounts are a mess today, I'll be back
in a bit," another steady voice said, clearly York's reply. "I still have some," the woman said, then suddenly suggested, "Why don't we go get some coffee, rest a bit, and come back to continue?" "Sure, let's go." After the sounds of chairs being moved and footsteps fading away, the room fell completely silent. Varina waited several more minutes before cautiously peeking in. Sure enough, the room was empty. "What a shameful waste…don't they know to turn off the lights?" Looking at the new gas lamp that had been burning steadily in the office, providing bright illumination—his dream lighting tool—and being wasted like this, Varina felt quite angry. He wanted nothing more than to drag the two women back and give them a lecture on thrift. Angry as he was, business was more important. Varina quickly slipped inside and found himself in a large office with more than ten desks. Just as he had seen during the day, the office entrance was directly opposite, connecting to a corridor that led to a washroom and a wooden staircase to the first floor. He weaved through the gaps between the desks, intending to first check the purpose of the rooms on both sides of the corridor, and also glance at the ledgers on the desks the two men had just left. Ha, just as Susan had described, Varina felt his head was spinning after only a few lines. The rooms on both sides of the corridor were labeled, indicating their respective uses: the chairman's office, the archives, the storage room, the tea room, and the washroom. The chairman's office was the largest of the rooms, occupying the entire right side of the corridor along with the archives. The other rooms were relatively smaller, distributed on the left side. Clearly, the chairman's office was the most worthwhile to explore. Varina circled each door, finding, as he expected, that the chairman's office was locked. Besides this, he made some other unexpected discoveries. The first was the archives. He had initially estimated that the document room should also be locked, with the key supposedly found in the main office. But in reality, it wasn't locked at all, suggesting that the contents of the so-called document room were of even lower value than he had anticipated. Then there was the storage room. This storage room was a misnomer; it should more be called an armory.
Aside from the common household items displayed in front, Varina also found various cold weapons such as daggers, iron bars, and wooden sticks, placed on a shelf in the corner like ordinary odds and ends.
He took a double-edged iron dagger and then planned to find a way to enter the chairman's office.The lock on the chairman's office door was quite secure. Varina tried many methods, but to no avail.
Force it open?
It wouldn't budge; clearly, his strength wasn't enough to break the lock.
Use a dagger to force back the bolt?
The door frame was too wide; the dagger couldn't fit.
Use a wire to pick the lock?
That should work, but Varina didn't know how.
Force it open?
The two part-time accountants would return, and the noise would alert the guards.
"I refuse to believe a living person can be blocked by a dead door." After several attempts, Varina couldn't help but rub his hair vigorously.
At this moment, he couldn't help but envy the Sequence 9 "Apprentice."
If he were also an "Apprentice," his extraordinary ability "Open Door" could solve the problem, and he could even open a mystical "door" in the wall to enter the room without going through the door.
Speaking of which, the "Apprentice" sequence's abilities are truly useful, and applicable to everyone. No wonder even low-level Extraordinary individuals rarely appear in this sequence; they mostly appear as magical artifacts.
Perhaps the act of rubbing his hair had an effect; Varina found a breakthrough.
The room was so large, why fixate on just one small door? Just because the door couldn't be opened didn't mean he couldn't get in. Otherwise, how had he entered the building? With his
mind clear, a solution followed.
After recalling the building's structure, Varina devised a plan—climbing the outer wall to the chairman's office balcony and entering from there.
This plan was feasible, but risky.
During the climb, his weight would be supported only by a single, easily gripped metal pipe—a gas line—which might not be able to support a person's weight.
This was unlike the main pipe he had previously traversed, which was as thick as a thigh.
Varina decided to try it.
He walked to the opposite side of the washroom, descended half a flight of wooden stairs, and reached the corner.
He had noticed two things during the day: the stairs made a sound when he stepped on them, and there was a small ventilation window at the corner.
Varina opened the window, peered out, placed his hands on the windowsill, and carefully used his strength to slowly lift himself from a prone position to a supine one.
Then, gripping the top of the window frame with one hand and bracing himself on the windowsill with the other, he sat up on the windowsill.
The rest was easy. Varina lifted his feet up as well, standing fully on the windowsill, using one hand to maintain his balance and the other to reach the gas pipe.
Just as he was about to test the pipe's strength to support him, he heard voices coming from downstairs—the voices of two part-time accountants.
"Damn it, I've been too long! They've already finished their coffee and are back!"
Varina acted decisively, using a single effort to free himself from the windowsill, hanging entirely from the pipe with one hand.
Soon, the staircase creaked under its weight, growing louder and louder.
"Hey, York, did you open this window when you left?"
The woman was clearly more observant; she noticed the small oversight Varina had made in his haste.
"No, but are you sure it was closed before?"
"I'm not so sure…"
The two walked to the window, glanced out casually a few times, and finding nothing amiss, closed it and continued upstairs.
"Luckily, the pipes are sturdy enough; luckily, we weren't discovered…"
Varina stretched out his curled-up body and quietly exhaled.
Hanging from the pipes, he moved forward, alternating his hands, and quickly reached the balcony of the chairman's office,
vaulting over the railing. Separating the inside from the outside of the balcony was a double glass door.
Through the glass, he could see that the two doors were locked with a simple flip-lock, much easier to open than the doors in the corridor.
This time, the dagger would come in handy.
He took out the dagger from his coat pocket, inserted it into the crack in the door, and then gently pried it open.
Stepping inside, Varina could see the layout of the entire chairman's office.
It wasn't complicated. Facing the balcony was an exquisitely crafted wooden coffee table, on which sat a novel with a bookmark.
Why could he tell at a glance it was a novel?
The answer was simple: the book was *Stormy Mountain Villa*, the famous work of Fors Wall, the "Magician."
Next to the coffee table, against the wall, was a half-full bookshelf, and Varina suspected that all the books on it might be novels.
Of course, this was just a suspicion; he had no intention of confirming it yet.
On the other side of the room stood a large desk, its materials and workmanship appearing far superior to those outside. Behind the desk was a chair, and further back in the corner was a coat rack.
Varina decided to search the desk area first.
Even without lighting, his extraordinary "dark vision" made searching relatively easy.
Varina's only concern was not making too much noise, lest he disturb the two part-time accountants on the other side of the wall.
There were three drawers on each side of the desk. He pulled out the first one on the left and was startled, quickly pushing it back down.
His haste even created a small, noticeable noise.
Inside the drawer was a completely black statue—a huge cross with a blood-soaked man hanging upside down on it.
It was a statue of the "True Creator"!
"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, it's nothing, just a statue..." Varina patted his chest. "This is the dockworkers' union at East Bayron Shipyard. Although it's a year earlier than the original story, it's perfectly normal for people to believe in the 'True Creator.'"
He pressed his right hand to his chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart gradually calm down with self-reassurance, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. He
had been quite frightened just now; he estimated his face must have turned pale.
Now he truly understood what it meant to "know more, the more dangerous."
If an unsuspecting person saw this upside-down statue, wouldn't they just let it pass by uneventfully? Someone as easily startled as him, if it happens too often, would at least develop neurasthenia, if not madness.
Having mentally prepared himself, Varina reached out again and opened the second drawer on the left.
This time, a smile immediately appeared on his face, for he spotted a familiar portrait, a figure exuding authority—the venerable "Founder" and "Protector," William I.
It was a grey pound note with black stripes, a single pound!
Varina reached into the drawer, pulled out the banknotes, and counted them, finding eight in total, all ten pounds.
Truly a money-making method enshrined in the law; it worked fast.