"Frederick, you're late!"
When Russell arrived at the entrance of Lloyds Bank, a line of guards had already formed.
He seemed to be the last one to arrive, so Tommy's attitude was very poor.
"Sorry... Mr. Tommy." Russell mimicked Frederick's tone and demeanor. "My apartment is a bit far from here."
"That's not my concern. If there's a next time, get the hell out!" Tommy said impatiently. "Alright, stop wasting time here—since everyone is present, let's make this quick."
He waved his large hand, and the guards began to move, following behind him.
The entire process went very smoothly.
Although there was the customary body search, he had nothing on him except for his baton.
Search all you want; if you find anything, I'll take your last name.
System Shop, son.
Russell followed at the very back of the team, patiently waiting for the people in front to complete their handover with the others.
He had already entered the underground storage room. The chill of outdoor London was cut off, replaced by a different kind of coldness.
The underground space was very dry.
Russell recalled that Frederick's lungs were not very good and that staying in such a place for too long would make him cough, which was why he disliked the underground shift.
So, Russell hunched his back and let out a few suppressed dry coughs, fitting the character profile.
Walking ahead, Tommy turned back impatiently and glared at him, but Russell paid it no mind.
He patiently observed his surroundings, connecting the environment before his eyes with the map in his mind.
"Everyone, look alive!"
In the empty underground, Tommy's voice was amplified several times over. "Your mission is to ensure that not even a single fly gets in here! Do you understand?!"
"Yes, sir!" The guards responded in unison, their voices hollow and numb.
Mixed among them, Russell's voice was neither too loud nor too soft, blending perfectly into the background noise.
Tommy nodded with satisfaction and began assigning tasks.
"Frederick, you're with Richard. You two are responsible for patrolling areas A-3 to A-5, once every half hour. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Russell and Richard answered simultaneously, then silently walked toward their posts.
Immediately after, the others also successively walked to their own posts.
The handover was complete, and Tommy left the underground.
Russell and Richard stood beside the iron door of a storage room, each allocated a revolver and a baton.
He leaned against the wall with a complete lack of professional attitude, looking absent-minded.
As for Richard next to him, he merely glanced casually at his colleague's lazy posture, then withdrew his gaze with indifference.
Tonight's operation was a game of patience.
He had to wait for Tommy and the other guards to get far enough away before finding an excuse to leave this spot.
As for what to steal, the condition given by the System was:
[Any item sealed within the storage room]
In other words, he just had to enter a storage room, open any safe, take any random item, and successfully evacuate to complete the mission.
This was actually the simplest part.
Next came the waiting.
Time flowed slowly in the silent underground corridor, as if encased in amber.
There were no clocks here; Russell could only rely on counting seconds in his mind to confirm how much time had passed.
Unknowingly, five minutes had gone by.
Richard was like a statue, standing dutifully at his post. His gaze occasionally swept over the empty corridor, his face written full of immutable numbness.
Russell, on the other hand, performed his lazy posture to the extreme.
He leaned against the cold wall, eyes half-closed, looking as if he would fall asleep the very next second.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a perfect excuse that wouldn't arouse any suspicion.
The patrol time was once every half hour, which meant that for the next twenty-some minutes, he and Richard both had to stand here like two pillars.
So he still had to wait.
Another ten minutes passed.
Richard seemed unable to stand still any longer; he shifted his posture, his boots making a slight friction sound on the floor.
Just then, a series of suppressed, violent coughs erupted from Russell's throat.
"Cough cough... cough cough cough..."
He bent over, coughing as if his heart and lungs were tearing apart. A sickly flush rose on that sallow face belonging to Frederick.
This sudden commotion caused Richard to frown.
"Frederick, you'd better keep it down," he warned in a low voice. "If Mr. Tommy hears you, you can forget about this month's bonus."
"Sorry... cough cough... old problem." Russell waved his hand, his voice hoarse and breathless. "This damn place is dry and cold, my lungs... cough cough... can't take it."
Richard glanced at him impatiently, but seeing his pitiful appearance, looking as if he were about to cough his lungs out, he ultimately didn't say anything more.
"I'm going to the restroom. I'll be right back." Russell straightened up, leaning against the wall, gasping for large breaths of air.
"No, it's not our turn to patrol yet." Richard shook his head. "What if something happens?"
"Please, do you really think it's possible... cough cough..."
"No means no, that's the rule." Richard took a stance of refusing to yield no matter what was said. "At the very least, wait until we patrol."
"Tsk... fine, fine." Russell clicked his tongue impatiently, then leaned his whole body against the wall, panting as he continued to count the seconds.
Finally, the time for the two to patrol arrived.
"Let's go, it's our turn to patrol," Richard said, then took the lead to step forward.
Russell froze for a moment, then immediately followed.
He exercised patience, accompanying Richard for a patrol round, letting out a few coughs from time to time along the way.
Finally, Richard seemed annoyed by him. He paused his steps, turning his head sideways to look at him.
"Didn't you need the restroom? Go quickly and come back," he urged.
"Thanks."
Russell responded gratefully, then turned around and walked toward the direction of the restroom at the end of the corridor.
After confirming he had completely left the other's line of sight, his sickly posture vanished without a trace in an instant.
Relying on his excellent understanding of the map, Russell tiptoed around path after path.
On the map display, there was a relatively remote storage room where very few things were kept, so the security force was very weak.
In Tommy's division of labor just now, Russell remembered that only one person was guarding that specific spot.
So when the time came, he just had to walk over and use an item bought from the System Shop to knock that guy out. Keep everything simple.
After all, the System didn't require him to bring out anything of value.
This mission wasn't as hard as he imagined.
Russell's pace quickened slightly.
Soon, he arrived at that remote storage room marked on the map—Section B-7.
Just as the map stated, the security force here was indeed weak. There was only a guard named Henderson, leaning boredly against the cold iron door, humming an out-of-tune country ditty.
His eyes were unfocused; clearly, he had already lost all vigilance in this dull job.
Russell reached his hand into his pocket. Accompanied by a deduction notification in his mind, a handkerchief appeared in his palm.
"Good evening, Henderson."
He walked up quickly, waving enthusiastically at the other party.
Hearing this, Henderson, who was bored out of his mind, instantly looked bewildered.
"Frederick? Why are you here? Is this your patrol area?"
"I'm going to the restroom, just happened to pass by." Russell walked up with a smile. "This damn place really isn't fit for humans. After we survive this month, let's go for a drink. Just go to that place from last time, Liangyou Ice Room, remember?"
"What Liangyou Ice Room... what on earth are you talk—"
Before Henderson's voice could fall, Russell had already arrived in front of him.
The cloth in his hand covered the man's face.
Henderson subconsciously resisted, but the sleeping agent took effect faster than imagined.
"Relax, take a deep breath. Dizziness is normal."
As Russell spoke, he slowly lowered Henderson's body, letting him lean against the wall.
Done.
After doing all this, he finally cast his gaze toward that heavy storage room door.
[Precision Lockpicking Tool—Purchase Successful, -50 Malice Points]
The System's notification sound rang out, and a slender iron rod appeared in Russell's hand.
Russell gently probed the keyhole with the slender iron rod, while his other hand skillfully took out several picks of different shapes.
The cold touch of metal was transmitted from his fingertips. He held his breath, cocking his ear to listen to the subtle sounds inside the lock core.
However, the precision of this door lock far exceeded his imagination.
This was no ordinary tumbler lock, but some kind of more complex Swiss mechanical lock with a double insurance structure.
Time passed minute by minute. Beads of fine sweat seeped from Russell's temples.
"Tsk... troublesome."
Russell withdrew the pick, finding that the tip of the thinnest needle had bent slightly due to excessive force.
His disguise time was only thirty minutes. Wasting too much time here would only increase the risk of exposure.
He had to end this quickly.
He had saved up so many Malice Points precisely for a moment like this.
Spend where necessary, save where possible.
[Skill: Sleight of Hand C+—Upgraded. Current Level: C++. Malice Points -600]
[Malice Points Balance: 1500]
[Skill: Listening C—Upgraded. Current Level: C+. Malice Points -300]
[Malice Points Balance: 1200]
After a brief moment of heartache over the cost, an indescribable sensation instantly flooded into his fingertips.
It was as if countless pieces of knowledge and tactile sense regarding precision machinery were forcibly poured into his brain and nerves.
A warm current surged into his fingers. Those internal structures that were originally obscure and difficult to understand instantly became clear and distinct in his mind.
At the same time, he felt that his hearing seemed to become more penetrating.
It seemed he didn't need to look at all; relying solely on sound, he could imagine the trajectory of the pick moving within the keyhole.
This time, his movements no longer had the slightest hesitation.
Accompanied by an almost inaudible, crisp, and melodious click, that heavy steel door opened in response.
The air inside the storage room was cold and dry. Rows of uniform safes stood quietly in the shadows.
Russell didn't waste time. He slipped inside and gently closed the door.
The mission requirement was [Any item sealed within the storage room].
He walked casually to the safe nearest to him, squatted halfway down, and pressed his ear against the cold metal cabinet door, preparing to crack the code.
However, just as his fingertips were about to touch the cold cipher dial, the sound of a mechanism turning rang out beside his ear.
That was the noise of some device being activated.
Immediately after, a muffled sound came from the distance.
Russell's movements came to an abrupt halt, and he looked up toward the outside of the door.
A faint, pungent smell drifted through the air.
It seemed to be the smell of ether.
There's another expert here?
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