At 11 PM, Marcus donned the Mask of Metamorphosis and became Phantom. He made his way through the darkened city, avoiding patrol routes he'd memorized, moving through shadows like a ghost.
The artisan district was quiet at night—most craftsmen kept early hours. Von Drake's laboratory stood dark except for lights on the second floor, visible through the barred windows.
Phantom circled to the rear of the building where the drainage outlet was located. It was covered by an iron grate, but that was easy. A touch of his right hand and the grate became crystal, brittle enough to break with a single kick.
He slipped into the drainage tunnel, the smell of chemical waste immediately assaulting his nose even through his mask. This was the unpleasant part. The tunnel was cramped, slick with residue, and descended at a sharp angle. Phantom crawled through it, his actual weight making every movement laborious, trying not to think about what he was crawling through.
The tunnel opened into a basement collection chamber—a stone room with a large basin where waste drained before being magically treated and expelled into the city sewers. The room was lit by a single dim mana lamp.
And there, mounted on the wall, was the ward stone—a fist-sized crystal pulsing with Bronze Rank power. Phantom could see the magical lines radiating from it, spreading through the building's structure like a spider web.
He approached carefully, checking for secondary traps. Nothing obvious. Von Drake had been confident in his primary wards.
Phantom placed his right hand on the ward stone and pushed a trickle of his transmutation power into it. The stone began to destabilize, its magical matrix breaking down as it transformed into a non-magical crystal. The ward lines flickered, wavered, then died.
The entire building's ward system collapsed silently.
Phantom moved quickly now. He found the basement stairs and ascended. First floor was storage as he'd suspected—shelves of ingredients, preserved specimens in jars, raw materials for alchemy. He ignored them, continuing upward.
Second floor. The laboratory proper.
Phantom opened the door carefully and found himself in an alchemist's dream workspace. Three large cauldrons bubbled over magical flames. Workbenches covered in glassware, distillation equipment, crystallization chambers. Shelves lined with bottles of every size and color. The air was thick with the smell of various reagents and brewing potions.
And at the central workbench, Frederick Von Drake stood with his back to the door, carefully adding drops of some luminescent liquid to a beaker.
Von Drake was a thin man in his forties, wearing stained alchemist's robes. His Bronze Rank - Peak Stage aura was focused entirely on his work. He was muttering to himself, calculating dosages.
"Three more drops for optimal potency... yes, that's the addiction threshold... perfect..."
Phantom drew his Null-Steel daggers and moved silently across the laboratory. Von Drake was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice death approaching.
Phantom was five feet away when his boot touched a seemingly empty patch of floor.
Click.
A pressure plate. Hidden under a layer of stone dust.
The laboratory erupted with alarms. Lights blazed to life. Ward panels that Phantom had thought disabled activated—secondary wards, powered by a different source.
Von Drake spun around, his eyes widening. Then he smiled.
"Phantom. The famous assassin. I was wondering when you'd come for me." He pulled out a vial from his robes and drank it in one gulp. His aura suddenly surged, his Bronze - Peak Stage power amplifying dramatically. "Enhancement elixir, Silver-grade. I've been preparing for this."
Phantom cursed internally. Another target who'd been expecting him. His reputation was becoming a liability.
Von Drake threw the empty vial at Phantom, but it wasn't just glass—it exploded mid-flight, releasing a cloud of purple gas. Phantom dove aside as the gas ate through the stone floor where he'd been standing. Acid vapor.
"I've prepared so many surprises for you!" Von Drake laughed, pulling out more vials. "Years of alchemical research, all weaponized!"
He threw three vials in quick succession. The first released a swarm of crystallized wasps that buzzed through the air—alchemical constructs that attacked on command. The second created a wall of fire between them. The third splashed liquid that began transmuting the floor to ice.
Phantom activated one of his specialized smoke bombs, and it released a neutralizing agent that dissipated the acid vapor and grounded the crystallized wasps. But the fire wall remained, and Von Drake was already preparing more attacks.
This wasn't going to be a quick fight.
Phantom made a split-second decision. He activated his 100x Effect.
100X EFFECT ACTIVATED. DURATION: 30 MINUTES.
Power flooded through him, his Bronze - Peak Stage multiplying a hundredfold. The enhancement elixir Von Drake had taken was impressive—it had boosted him to roughly Silver Rank - Low Stage temporarily.
But Phantom's power had just jumped to what felt like high Platinum or low Diamond Rank.
Von Drake's confident smile faltered as he felt the overwhelming aura. "That's... that's not possible. You're Bronze Rank! You shouldn't—"
Phantom thrust out both hands, directing his transmutation power through the fire wall. The flames crystallized into beautiful, harmless sculptures of frozen fire. Then he pushed further.
The wave of transmutation energy swept across the laboratory. Every alchemical brew in progress crystallized. The walls began to turn to mana crystal. The very air seemed to solidify.
Von Drake threw up a barrier, a sophisticated Bronze Rank shield enhanced by his temporary boost to Silver Rank power.
The barrier crystallized instantly, then began transforming to gold.
"No! Wait! I have information! About other alchemists doing illegal work! I'll tell you everything!" Von Drake's voice pitched higher with panic. "I can pay! I have a fortune in rare ingredients! Please!"
Phantom said nothing. He simply directed more power toward the trapped alchemist.
Frederick Von Drake, Bronze Rank alchemist and dealer of addictive potions, became a perfect golden statue, his hands raised in futile defense, his face frozen in terror.
The transformation was complete. But now Phantom had a problem.
The laboratory was half-crystallized, and alarms were still blaring. The secondary ward system was broadcasting his presence to the entire district. City Guard would be here within minutes.
Phantom acted quickly. He grabbed Von Drake's research notes from the workbench—evidence of the illegal potion-making. Then he moved to the ingredient shelves and started taking everything valuable: phoenix feathers, dragon scale powder, purified mana crystal extracts, rare herbs worth thousands of gold.
His storage pouches filled rapidly. He took only the most valuable items—probably fifty thousand gold worth of ingredients stuffed into enchanted bags that held far more than their size suggested.
Then he heard boots on the stairs. Guards, already here.
Phantom ran for the window, crashed through it—his Guardian Amulet absorbing the impact and the glass shards. He landed in the alley below, his Shadowstep Boots cushioning what should have been a bone-breaking fall.
"Phantom's in the alley! Seal the district!"
Phantom ran. His 100x Effect was still active, making him supernaturally fast. He leaped between buildings, scaled walls, pushed his enhanced speed to the limit. The guards couldn't keep pace.
He was eight blocks away when he finally slowed, the pursuit lost behind him. His power buff had fifteen minutes remaining, but he didn't need it anymore.
Phantom made it back to his warehouse base, breathing hard, his mind racing with adrenaline. He removed his mask and became Marcus again.
That had been too close. Again. Von Drake had been prepared, had known Phantom might come, had weaponized his entire laboratory.
Marcus was starting to see a pattern. His contracts were getting harder because his reputation was spreading. Targets knew about Phantom, knew about his transmutation abilities, and were preparing countermeasures.
He needed to adapt. Maybe start varying his methods. Maybe take contracts in different cities. Maybe increase the time between jobs.
But first, he needed to evaluate his loot.
Marcus spread out the ingredients he'd stolen from Von Drake's laboratory. Even a quick assessment told him he'd grabbed a fortune:
Phoenix feathers (pristine): ten feathers, worth 3,000 gold each = 30,000 gold
Dragon scale powder: three vials, worth 5,000 gold each = 15,000 gold
Purified mana crystal extract: five bottles, worth 2,000 gold each = 10,000 gold
Various rare herbs and reagents: estimated value 20,000 gold
Total haul from ingredients alone: 75,000 gold.
Plus the 30,000 gold bounty from Starfall Guild.
105,000 gold from one contract. His most profitable night yet.
Marcus carefully stored everything in his vault, then added Von Drake's research notes to his collection of evidence for authorities. Tomorrow, they'd receive an anonymous package.
He was exhausted, but he still had his nightly cultivation routine. Marcus pulled out three high-grade mana crystals and began absorbing them.
IRON RANK - HIGH STAGE: 79% to Bronze Rank
Six percent progress in one night. Another three nights like this and he'd break through to Bronze Rank.
As the mana flowed into his channels, Marcus thought about his upcoming alchemy certification test in two days. Bronze Rank Alchemist. That would be his first official rank advancement, even if his cultivation rank remained Iron for public appearance.
And it would give him legitimate cover for selling high-grade potions. Another income stream to supplement his assassination work.
Diversification. Another form of paranoia.
Because the more resources he had, the more backup plans he could make. And the more backup plans he had, the better his chances of survival.
Marcus finished his cultivation and finally allowed himself to sleep. Tomorrow would be another busy day: classes, alchemy practice, scouting potential contracts.
The eternal cycle of his dual life.