Lord of Mysteries: The Assassin's Dark Path

Accompanied by the incantation muttered under his breath, Varina took four steps counterclockwise, completing the seemingly simple "Fortune Turning Ritual."

But nothing happened.

No anomalies, no whispers, and no gray mist...

"As expected. I knew it wouldn't be so easy to verify the existence of supernatural powers."

Having mentally prepared himself beforehand, Varina wasn't too discouraged by the failed attempt.

He quickly packed away the bread, lit the coal stove, and fetched half a pot of water from the washroom to set on the flame.

Once the water boiled, he chopped some potatoes and carrots, adding a pinch of salt and a dollop of lard. A simple pot of vegetable soup was done.

Vegetable soup with bread—it was his daily breakfast.

While waiting for the water to boil, Varina swiftly changed into a shirt and jacket, preparing to head out.

...

After finishing his simple meal, Varina donned a flat cap and left his home as the nearby clocktower chimed seven. He walked three blocks to the Sillen Textile Factory.

Greeting the gatekeeper, old Haniff, Varina made his way along the path to a small, flat-roofed house outside the warehouse.

This was where he worked daily.

Inside the small house stood a large table, cluttered with papers, pens, notebooks, and other such items. Varina and a few colleagues worked together here to ensure the warehouse operated smoothly.

Most of the time, Varina managed inventory intake, John oversaw dispatch, and Susan handled logistics. Then there was old Pat, who directed the workers in moving goods. Of course, these roles weren't fixed—anyone on leave had their tasks distributed among the rest.

It was still a little while before eight o'clock, and no one else had arrived yet.

Varina tidied up some scattered documents, and soon, John walked in.

"Morning, Varina."

He headed straight to his seat, slung his satchel over the back of the chair, and greeted with a smile.

"Morning to you too, John."

After exchanging a few pleasantries, another colleague, the brown-haired, curly-haired Susan, arrived and quickly joined their conversation.

"Hey, have you heard? Another protest broke out in the dock district yesterday, bigger than the last one."

"The one calling for the repeal of the Grain Act?" John asked with interest. "I really hope that demand gets met."

"Yeah, that would lower our cost of living by at least a third, maybe even half!" Susan said, her face full of hope.

John nodded in agreement.

Varina had shared the same opinion before, but this time he thought deeper.

"Have you considered," he asked, "that it might lead to the opposite outcome and make our lives harder?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" John retorted quickly. "Grain from Feynapotter and Lenburg is cheaper. We'd benefit directly!"

Susan didn't speak but looked at Varina with the same expectation as John, waiting for him to explain.

"You're right about the cheaper grain," Varina began, "but have you thought about what would happen to domestic farmers? If the Grain Act is repealed, they'll go bankrupt, sell their land, and end up working in factories. That means a flood of workers competing for jobs, driving down wages and making our lives even worse."

"Could it really be like that?"

John quickly accepted Varina's reasoning. "You make a lot of sense. But I have to ask—how did you think of that?"

"Maybe I dreamed it," Varina replied, his expression complicated.

John raised an eyebrow at the vague answer, clearly unimpressed.

Susan, after her own moment of reflection, countered with a laugh. "You're not entirely right. Most farmers are illiterate. Even if your theory is correct, it probably won't affect us much."

The two men exchanged glances but didn't reply. Susan came from a better background and couldn't fully empathize with their concerns.

"Dong, dong, dong…"

The clock struck, signaling the end of their idle chatter.

As the factory began its operations, their small office gradually grew busier, with more people coming and going.

---

In the afternoon, their supervisor, Mr. York Luca, suddenly appeared. He urgently demanded records from a specific day six months ago before leaving in haste, seemingly oblivious to the pressure his request placed on the team.

"Oh, Goddess, finding those damned records is impossible for one person!" Susan's complaint nearly caught up to Mr. Luca's retreating footsteps.

John sighed. "Complaining won't help. Let's figure out how to handle this."

"I'm not going to the dark room!" Susan shot back quickly. "And I can't handle everything here on my own either."

Her rapid-fire words left John momentarily speechless, and he turned to Varina for help.

Varina stood up. "I'll go handle it. John, you stay and assist Susan. Once things calm down, come help me."

John nodded. "Alright, that's the best we can do."

---

The outdated records were stored in a secluded, unlit section of the warehouse nicknamed the "dark room."

When John arrived at the entrance, he was surprised not to see any light inside. Confused, he called out, "Varina, are you in there?"

"I'm here," came Varina's voice from the darkness. "Hurry up and help. It's harder to find than I thought."

"Why didn't you light the lamp? Are you slacking off?"

Annoyed, John grabbed the whale oil lamp hanging by the entrance, lit it, and stepped inside. To his surprise, he found Varina diligently searching through the files without a hint of laziness.

"You... How can you even see in this darkness? I almost couldn't find you even with the lamp!"

The question sent a chill down Varina's spine. He realized the changes in himself went beyond the memories from his dream.

To John, however, Varina merely paused briefly before replying with a smile. "You'd get used to it too if you tried. I just didn't want to waste time fetching matches."

John skeptically nodded, setting the lamp aside before joining the search.

The rustle of papers filled the small room once again.

After a while, John couldn't help but speak up. "Varina, you've been acting strange today."

"Because I didn't light the lamp?"

"No, it's what you said this morning," John hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "When you talked about the Grain Act... It was like you'd turned into a completely different person. No offense, but it doesn't seem like something you'd normally think of."

"I know what you mean," Varina replied heavily. "Honestly, I don't think I'm that knowledgeable either."

He then shifted to a lighter tone. "But Emperor Roselle once said, 'A clever man might have one bad idea in a thousand, while a fool's thousand idle thoughts might yield one gem.' Maybe I just stumbled upon my gem."

"You're too modest," John replied, his hands still busy. "I get it now—you've improved through self-study."

"Well, if you want to think that, go ahead." Varina chuckled.