Amon took a deep breath, a disgusted look in his eyes, and tied the rope around his waist. Then he tore a small piece of cloth and made a makeshift mask.
He checked his equipment: daggers... present, the poison vial Liparik had given him was still there. Drugs, hook… Sun oil?
Why the hell haven't I thrown this away yet!?
Shaking his head, he got to work. He tied the hook, looked up, then spun it in his hand and threw it.
First attempt ended in bitter failure.
Persevere!
After four tries, he finally managed to hook it. But another problem remained: guards. They were down there too. Sure, they didn't seem to be Awakened like the ones deeper inside the temple… but it was still dangerous.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and jumped from the wall. Then, using his inhuman level of acrobatic skill and physical strength, he landed on the outer side and began his descent.
Still, he was just a Dormant human which meant he had limits. That's why he needed to be patient, slowly climbing down to avoid alerting the guards below.
Those bums were yawning in boredom anyway, so it wasn't too difficult. And honestly, who could blame them? They were guarding literal shit. Worst job ever, fr.
After a few minutes, he reached his destination. It was a dark, narrow hole, dripping filth into a shallow trench. The stench was so overwhelming that Amon would've rather slept beside a rotting corpse than be here.
He couldn't even breathe through his nose. Only through his mouth. Because if he did use his nose… the smell would somehow become even more revolting than it already was.
It was too much to endure. The stench was unbearable. Amon was just a normal human, he had never done anything like this before, and the sheer filth was pushing him past his limits.
His muscles ached from all the climbing, and his stamina wasn't anything great either.
At some point, he just couldn't hold it back anymore. He vomited, his body convulsing as tears welled in his eyes. His stomach twisted painfully, and his throat burned as he emptied its contents.
The guards below didn't seem to notice. Or maybe they did and simply chose to ignore it, perhaps assuming it was just another priest taking a dump. Either way, no one came to investigate.
He wiped his mouth, pulled the mask back over his face, and continued climbing. The shaft was narrower than he expected and the stone walls pressed against his shoulders as he braced himself and pushed upward through the sludge-slick chute.
Halfway through, Amon froze.
He spotted a rat chewing on... Ughh! He didn't want to know.
But then, thanks to his keen observation, he noticed something else. A pale, silver thread and he had almost brushed against it.
Slowly, he reached back, careful not to trigger it.
The thread was taut and thin, barely visible in the gloom.
"...They're really going all out," Amon muttered under his breath. "A mechanical trap in the sewage system? Pizdets..."
Amon looked up, noticing the wire stretching upward like a spider's web. Then he pulled out his dagger and carefully cut it. At that very moment, a faint click echoed from above. Amon had no idea what kind of mechanism had been used, but he gambled anyway. Judging by the sound, the trap had been triggered, yet without setting off an alarm. Somewhere higher up, the mechanism likely reset itself, completely unnoticed.
He glanced at the shit-eating rat and gave it a respectful nod of acknowledgment.
"You know what? You're the best, Jerry-kun."
With a grin, he continued moving but then he heard voices above.
"Why do we have to guard the damn toilet?!"
"That's how it is. Orders are orders."
Amon blinked, staring upward. What the hell? Why does a toilet need so many guards? What are they shitting? gold?!
Eventually, he reached the wooden seat above. Then, taking out a small vial from his pocket, he poured the liquid onto a piece of cloth.
He waited in silence as the guards continued to complain. From their chatter, Amon gathered that their shift would end in a few minutes. Soon, replacements would come to take their place.
Just as they were about to leave the toilet area, Amon slipped up from beneath the wooden seat. In a blink, he grabbed one of the guards from behind and clamped the cloth over his mouth. The man's eyes widened in shock, then dulled and rolled back as he slumped into unconsciousness.
But the second guard noticed.
"What the-!"
He reached for his sword, unsheathing it with a sharp metallic ring.
Amon's pulse spiked. In that moment, his [Superior Observation] kicked in, sharpening his awareness to the limit.
...Damn it.
Amon sensed the danger and ducked, narrowly avoiding the swing of the sword. The guard opened his mouth to shout, but Amon acted first. He threw a poison vial at the man's face. The glass shattered with a sharp crack, releasing a puff of corrosive mist. The guard staggered, choking, his scream dying in his throat.
Amon drew his dagger, his breath sharp, his eyes bloodshot. Adrenaline surged through his body. The guard clutched his burning face, disoriented. Amon lunged forward. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into the man's throat, twisted it, and ripped it out in a clean, savage motion. Blood sprayed on his face, hot and sudden.
Then... silence.
Amon froze, the dagger still in his trembling hand. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the ground.
What a...
His chest heaved. His breaths were shallow and rapid. Only now did he truly see the body, the lifeless eyes staring into nothing and the blood pooling beneath it.
The shock hit him.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud and all-consuming. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He couldn't hear the footsteps outside, couldn't feel the cold air brushing against his skin. Only the crushing rhythm of his own heart, hammering like it was trying to escape.
"It's fine... it's just a nightmare. They're not real. Just illusions conjured by a Spell..."
He muttered to himself, trying to hold his fraying thoughts together. As if words alone could make it true. As if saying it out loud could wash the blood off his hands.
The excuses came in waves, whispering in his mind, each more hollow than the last. It was self-defense... they would've killed me... I didn't have a choice...
But none of them silenced the truth.
He was a hypocrite. And maybe that was worse than being a killer.
But so what?!
Hypocrisy was the currency of power. Righteousness and convictions was for fools and corpses. Ideals were luxuries meant for people too weak to take what they needed.
Why should "He" cling to human ideals? Why pretend to be one of them?
"His" breaths slowed. The tremors in "His" hands ceased. The wild beat of "His" heart settled into a calm, cold rhythm.
And in that quiet... the fear died.
"His" eyes, once wide with shock, narrowed again, sharp and gleaming with cunning.
That's right... I'm a thief. There's no need to concern myself with all these morals and rules. I am the very erroneous nature of it all. I'm a pleasure seeker. Don't I enjoy pursuing thrills and cheerfulness?
In the end, doesn't it all boil down to one thing... fun?
"He" thought with a pleasant smile as "He" stood up but then he froze.
Wait a second... no way...
His eyes widened, realizing something that had been obvious from the start.
[Uniqueness of Error]-Attribute Description: "You were born naturally with a Uniqueness, which is equivalent to a Uniqueness coming to life and imbuing its very nature into you."
A Uniqueness... coming to life... and imbuing its very nature into me...
What the... When?! When did it start!? I'm not "He", I'm he... shit! What the fuck is going on?!
Ughh! There's no time for that. He would think about it later.
He shoved the thoughts aside, forcing himself to focus on the mission. Slipping out of the restroom, he dashed toward the west side, his Superior Observation buzzing louder than ever, sharper, more precise. Something valuable was close. He could feel it.
A wide grin spread across his face as he pushed open the door and looked down.
A spiraling staircase wound into the depths, and below it gleamed a luminous stone, shining with a soft bluish light. Inside it swirled vibrant colors, like a miniature galaxy trapped in crystal.
Amon nodded to himself, tying one end of a rope to a nearby pillar and the other around his waist. He didn't know if stepping onto the path would trigger any traps, so he went with the safer, sneakier option.
Without hesitation, he jumped from the balcony, descending with control. At just the right moment, he twisted midair, hanging upside down like a bat, and snatched the stone.
Jackpot!
But then, from the stone pedestal where the runestone had been resting, liquid silver began to gush out, erupting like a volcano.
Amon hissed under his breath, shoving the runestone into his pocket and immediately climbing back up with urgency.
Nearly half an hour later, he escaped the way he had come in. Circling around the temple, he entered through the front gates, blending in with the crowd. Avoiding the chaos of the ongoing riot, he swiftly tossed his filthy, reeking clothes into a ceremonial fire burning near the temple's center. Without hesitation, he changed into the clean set he had hidden earlier in the garden.
At the same time, he winked at one of the rioters, a man in ragged clothes. The man gave a subtle nod, then began shouting even louder, hurling profanities and accusations with wild fervor, escalating the already frenzied situation.
Amon slipped past the guards and entered the tower. Ascending the narrow staircase, he soon found himself at the top. He glanced at the massive bell above and smiled pleasantly.
And then-
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The bell rang out with a thunderous roar, echoing across the temple grounds and freezing everyone in place.
The Priestess of Passion looked up in disbelief, her eyes wide before she spun toward the guards with fury.
"Someone got into the inner sanctum! All of this... it was just a diversion! Go! Quickly!"
Amon chuckled, leaping from the tower. With a rope tied around his waist, he ran along the scorching stone ledge, his silhouette a fleeting blur before the guards could spot him.
But this wasn't just to draw them back into the temple.
It was also the signal, the sign for his friends to leave. The time had come to escape.
Everything had gone just as he envisioned.... Okay, not everything. Not the guards inside, not climbing through shit, nor killing the guards... And that bizarre silver liquid? Yeah, that hadn't been part of the plan either.
Still, he improvised. He adapted. That's what he did when things went sideways.
And he had to admit, his plan was solid.
Bribing the homeless to stir up chaos, distracting the Priestess of Passion until the riot reached its peak, Studying every inch of the temple for a week straight, just to find a way into the inner sanctum...
But there was one last thing. The final touch.
Because now, the Head Priest would grow very suspicious of Kaisarius and his companions. That's why Amon needed a distraction big enough… So overwhelming, so urgent, that the Head Priest wouldn't have time to investigate a missing runestone.
He grabbed the torch and dropped it onto the trail of Sun God's oil.
Flames burst to life instantly, racing along the slick path and trailing into the temple's warehouse where barrels of Sun Oil were stored in abundance.
With a slight, mocking bow toward the sacred building, Amon smiled in satisfaction and dashed away from the temple.
He had exploited every error in the Sun God's Temple.
Stealing was so much fun! Big thanks to the Priestess of Passion, guess I've found my life's work.
He thought that and-
BOOM!
A massive explosion shook the earth. Pillars, stones, and even sacred altars were sent flying from the heart of the temple as smoke and flames rose from the ground.
Amon froze mid-run, slowly turning his head to look back. His grin faltered, stretching into a strained, almost horrified expression.
"...Shit... Not that big!"