The mist was thickening, turning the alleys of Tingen into a labyrinth of dancing shadows. Fang Yuan wasn't just following the man with his body, but with all his senses, honed by centuries of survival. Suddenly, he noticed a slight change in the man's pace; it was no longer frantic, but suspiciously rhythmic—a silent invitation to follow him into a dark side-alley.
Fang Yuan stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in the shadows. "A trap?" he thought coldly. "This man isn't just a panicked fugitive; he felt my pursuit."
Despite his current physical weakness, his instinct was still as sharp as a blade. Instead of rushing after the man, Fang Yuan began to retreat slowly, stepping on his tiptoes to minimize sound. However, the person in question had no intention of letting him leave easily. Fang Yuan heard the swift friction of clothes against the air and saw a shadow leap from behind wooden crates, attempting to cut off his path.
"I've been exposed." Fang Yuan's heart didn't waver; instead, his mind began working like a calculating machine. He sprinted in the opposite direction, cutting through a narrow alley reeking of waste. He didn't run aimlessly; he maneuvered between solid objects, using blind spots to mislead his pursuer.
The chase lasted for minutes that felt like hours. The person behind him possessed superhuman speed, but Fang Yuan possessed "experience." He used a passing massive steam carriage to distract his stalker, then leaped over a low metal fence and vanished into the open cellar of an abandoned building, waiting in absolute silence.
Moments passed, and he heard footsteps racing overhead, heading toward the neighboring district. He had successfully misled them. Fang Yuan didn't emerge immediately; he waited another ten minutes in the pitch blackness, regulating his labored breathing. "A truly weak body... a simple sprint nearly made my heart explode."
He left the cellar, but he didn't head home. He walked in the complete opposite direction, moving miles away from his living quarters. He crossed an iron bridge and entered slums he had never visited before, intentionally walking in circular and complex routes to erase any trail he might have left.
"My first hour in this world, and I've already hit a snag," Fang Yuan thought, leaning against a cold stone wall in a distant neighborhood. "This world is more dangerous than I expected, and the knowledge the Weaver granted me isn't enough to protect me from the lack of experience in dealing with this world's physical laws."
Fang Yuan spent an entire hour moving between alleys, watching reflections in shop windows, ensuring no eye watched him from the shadows. His caution surpassed that of the prey. After confirming his path was clean, he returned to his dilapidated room with quiet steps. He locked the door behind him and sat on the bed in the dark, his eyes glowing with a strange coldness.
"I must wait for a while until the situation cools down, then I will begin moving again. Survival is the priority now... and then, it will be power's turn."
He settled on his creaky wooden bed, leaving the oil lamp unlit; in the dark, watching eyes are less capable of seeing. The sound of his exhausted breathing gradually faded, but his mind was racing against time.
"Money..." he thought, staring at the cracked ceiling. "In the Gu World, Primeval Stones were the currency and the power. Here, gold and silver are the keys to accessing supernatural ingredients. Based on this body's memories, I only possess a few Soli—not enough to satisfy my hunger for a week."
Fang Yuan was not one to lament his luck. To him, the world was a great feast, and the strong were those who chose their seats. "The person who chased me wore fine clothes, and his bag was heavy... I would have been caught if I hadn't sensed the trap." His eyes narrowed coldly. "But no matter, physical strength isn't my only path. Tingen City is teeming with nobles and industrial companies... they possess money, and they possess secrets."
A demonic smile formed on his face in the darkness of the room. He rose with silent steps toward a small table and began planning a "cleansing" of a nearby trade office—a coal trading office with an old iron safe. "I won't just steal money; I will steal their records. Corruption in this city is the true currency. He who owns the sins of others, owns their necks."
For the next three days, he didn't steal a penny. He went out at different times in ragged clothes, pretending to search for coal scraps, while his eyes scanned the "Coal Import Company." He noticed the night guard suffered from a chronic cough that forced him to rest every ten minutes, and that the lock was an old "Wheeler" model that made a distinctive creak. "The guard slackens at 3:00 AM, and the sound of the steam train will cover any noise of lock-picking."
He identified three escape routes and a sewer manhole to hide his tools. He set two failure contingencies: First, being caught by the guard—his solution was a bag of coal dust and pepper for 30 seconds of blinding. Second, the presence of a Beyonder—his solution was to abandon the mission immediately. Financial loss can be recovered, but the loss of the soul is final.
On the fourth night, amidst a thick mist, the time came. He slipped through the cracks of the shadows and reached the target window. He pulled out a metal wire, and his fingers began dancing with the lock. Click... The lock opened faintly, synchronized with a distant train whistle.
He slid inside like a shadow. He went straight to the main desk and, with eerie mechanical precision, opened the drawers. "Cash... bonds... and the safe key." He opened the safe quietly, but what caught his eye was a wooden box smelling of sandalwood. Inside was an "ancient leather manuscript" and a glass eye that seemed to be watching the room.
"Not just a coal company; this manuscript contains notes on the 'Tingen Black Market' and suppliers of supernatural materials."
Suddenly... his muscles tensed. He heard "awake" footsteps approaching. The creak of the door... the guard entered and raised a gas lamp that began sweeping the shadows. Fang Yuan didn't wait; he hurled the bag of coal and pepper toward the lamp. BOOM! The dust exploded and ignited, creating a suffocating cloud and momentary blindness.
"Aaaah! My eyes!" the guard screamed.
Fang Yuan seized those 30 seconds. He leaped over the desk, smashed a window with a chair to mask the noise, and rolled himself into the alley. He ran at full speed and jumped into the sewer manhole. He slid into the cold water and filth, ignoring the stench, walking underground until he emerged a full mile away from the scene of the robbery.
He reached his room soaked, but his features were devoid of emotion. He sat examining the loot under the moonlight. "The money is enough for the basic ingredients of the 'Marauder' potion... and this manuscript mentions the 'Two-Headed Dog Tavern' where characteristics are traded."
He smiled while touching the "Glass Eye"—a magical tool that enhances observation in the dark, perfect for his beginnings. "The pieces have begun falling into place. It won't be long before I stop being 'ordinary'."