Blanc crouched two blocks away from Alexandria's mansion. He'd been there for hours, watching the movements of the guards.
Occasionally, armored figures clad in the latest exoskeletons—powered by Gold-Tier Mana Stones—patrolled the perimeter. It was a noticeable upgrade since the last time he'd visited for his "bank withdrawals." And those were only the defenses he could see from the outside.
He couldn't accurately gauge the number of Awakened and Talented individuals present within.
When the assassins had come for his throat, his senses had failed him, feeding him false information—or none at all. Without his Gold Core, his extraordinary abilities were useless. To someone else in his profession, this would make the job impossible. But thievery was etched into the very fabric of his being, long before he'd gained power.
To bypass the runic defenses powering the intruder detection systems and barriers around the estate, Blanc had two options.
The first was to exploit the underground piping system that carried mana from the central processing unit. Since Emperor Eclisiaste's reign in 2177, the possession of an independent mana fusion box had been punishable by death.
This consolidation of power to the Imperial Rulers made outages common, thanks to constant remodeling efforts and the instability of mana-conductive materials. These outages were Blanc's entry point.
While the system ensured all power flowed to the Empire, it inadvertently made Blanc's task easier. Damaged pipes and disrupted mana flow left most defenses weaker than a breeze.
He knew, however, that there would be a backup generator within the compound. These were issued on loan for security reasons to individuals important to the state. Alexandria, being a minor noble, likely had one that could restore power in one hundred and twenty seconds.
During that brief window of chaos, Blanc would have his chance. Disabling the underground piping was straightforward—his tuxedo had enough charge to blast through military-grade defenses. But doing so would deplete the suit's advanced features, leaving him vulnerable against Gold-Tier Awakened.
This was where his second option came in. The underground piping had four main convergence points, and Blanc needed to target the one to the north.
A mana leak at that location would create an explosion and mana discharge equivalent to the full-force attack of a Gold-Tier Awakened. Since the buildings surrounding the convergence point all belonged to Alexandria's estate, two-thirds of his security personnel would rush to investigate.
At worst, it would be one-point-eight-thirds. A third of the guards—including two of the strongest Awakened—would escort Alexandria to his underground bunker. In that moment, Alexandria's room, containing gold bars and a moderate sum of silver, would be unguarded.
The remaining third would act as a diversion, and whatever fraction was left—perhaps 0.2—would be unpredictable. But the explosion posed another risk: it might draw too much attention.
For that reason, Blanc's primary plan relied on the first option. With the power out and one hundred and twenty seconds to spare, he could infiltrate the apartment directly from the bunker.
Alexandria's mistake was building his estate near higher-priority targets. Plan two, though valuable, overcomplicated matters. It gave him combat capabilities but left too much evidence under the rushed timing.
Plan one retained the finesse of his prime—silent, precise, and under the cover of darkness. The tuxedo's runes still worked, ensuring he remained traceless.
The suit's thin anti-gravity field prevented him from leaving evidence—no hairs, no footprints, not even a dent. After using the charge to disable the mana flow and induce a controlled mana leak, the suit's energy would last for thirty seconds—just enough.
Finally, Blanc pulled out a small syringe filled with a pale green liquid: a truth serum. Half a dose could knock out a Gold-Tier Awakened and lull them into a hypnotic state, ensuring they only spoke the truth. With it, the job would be quick and clean.
Blanc descended into the streets below. Despite the momentum of his fall, he feathered onto the ground, landing silently. Faster than a blink, he pivoted and darted through the bright streets, his expert body contortions keeping him within the shadows—whether they were as narrow as a pin or as wide as a building.
Catching a glimpse of his own shadow was a fool's dream; it blended seamlessly with the surroundings. His silhouette morphed into those of poles, dustbins, or the eaves of buildings. Not even time could track his position.
In less than a second, he reached an intersection a block away from Alexandria's mansion. The manhole below was his entry point into the underground piping system. With careful precision, he lifted the cover and slipped into its depths.
Blue light illuminated the subterranean world of massive tunnels and pipes that formed the mana grid of Lorton City. For the average person, two wrong turns were enough to get lost. But an old hand like Blanc knew the piping systems of every major city in Eglasia—and if he didn't, he had channels to acquire the necessary knowledge. The light didn't blind him as he raced through the tunnels, navigating with practiced ease until he reached the convergence point.
The convergence point was a vast underground hall with countless tunnels, large and small. Each tunnel housed myriad pipes, some transporting stable mana to households while others—burning red—carried unstable mana. All of these conduits connected to a gigantic orb of swirling mana at the center: the convergence point.
If Blanc targeted the correct focal points, the resulting discharge would halt the entire mana flow for a few minutes, plunging the surrounding blocks into darkness. A mistake, however, could trigger a catastrophic explosion capable of leveling the area.
Blanc spread his fingers and focused. The tuxedo recognized the gestures, lighting up in a pale purple hue. Streams of energy shot toward the mana fusion core at the center of the convergence point. Sweat dripped from his neck as he entered full concentration mode. Veins popped underneath the bland white mask he wore, a short struggle to maintain his focus.
His fingers moved with fluid precision, like he was strumming both a guitar and a piano simultaneously. The energy streams responded to his rhythm, striking precise points on the core.
It would take him more than a minute to induce stasis.