Kisho's figure appeared at the boundary between District One and District Five, then stepped into the territory of District One.
The streets here were extremely clean, with almost no trash to be seen. The houses were neatly arranged on both sides of the road, and there were even shops with banners hanging outside.
Kisho slowly walked toward his destination.
It was hard to imagine that District One and District Five were clearly connected, with no visible barriers at all, yet they were two sharply divided, worlds-apart places.
Looking at those white-brick, red-tiled houses, he sighed inwardly, "…Social class really is everywhere."
...
"Although the White Eagle Association's power is in District Five and District Nine, as the chairman, Solzt still chooses to live in District One. After all, for him, even breathing the same air as the lowlifes in District Five would make him unbearably disgusted."
Kisho recalled what Amos had told him: "His residence is at the northwest corner of District One. You'll know it when you see it—you definitely won't mistake it."
"Solzt returns to his residence every night. After nine in the morning the next day, someone will bring the documents that need to be handled into the residence. As for him, he won't go to the White Eagle Association until noon. So at two in the morning, he'll definitely be at home, and at that time the guard is the weakest."
"My personal suggestion is that if you're planning to make a move, this is the best time."
"Solzt likes to drink something before going to sleep. If you can add a little something to his drink before he has it, then whatever you want to do next will be effortless."
Kisho pinched the pill in his hand, no bigger than a fingernail.
It was hard to imagine that after having just done something like "arson," he now had to immediately start "poisoning."
Kisho mocked himself, "This really is a straight path to life imprisonment."
However, regarding "Amos," who knew so much and could even provide poison, his true identity—
"Forget it. It's not important."
At least for now, he could still be considered an "ally," even if only an "interest-based" one.
Sometimes, the value of "information" far exceeded that of "force."
...
The moonlight tonight was quite nice. The moon had already climbed directly overhead, and the time was around midnight.
And Kisho also saw the residence of Solzt that Amos had mentioned. It was indeed extremely conspicuous—within a hundred meters around it, there was no building more luxurious than this one.
A guard was dozing in the guardhouse at the gate, and along the only path into the residence, there were also people hidden in the shadows.
But Kisho didn't find it troublesome. As long as he used "Gyo," he could see the ordinary people who were hiding—clearly, even in Meteor City, people with Nen were extremely rare. It wasn't like he had imagined, where even the gate guards would have Nen.
But Kisho thought of another possibility.
If the people hidden in the shadows completely suppressed their Nen, he wouldn't be able to see their "Ten." In that case, what should he do? And if someone maintaining "Ten" hid in a blind spot of his vision, where his eyes couldn't see, what should he do then?
Perhaps there were techniques related to Nen that he hadn't yet mastered, ones that could let him deal with these situations.
But that only made it more terrifying upon closer thought.
If he had a way to detect people who had suppressed their Nen, then likewise, even if he himself suppressed his Nen, he would still be detected by someone who had that technique—how was he supposed to avoid that?
"Ahhhhhh! This is so annoying! Why don't I have a teacher who can seriously teach me the whole set from start to finish?!"
"Everyone else who transmigrates just sails smoothly, but the moment I transmigrated I went straight from bad to worse. I finally managed to grasp a new skill, but only half of it, and now I have to cling to life with half-baked abilities. I'm really miserable. Truly."
"The only thing I have in common with other transmigrators is probably that there really are villains coming to deliver experience points to me—but compared to them, I feel more like the villain myself…"
Kisho let his thoughts run wild, using the rambling to relax his mind.
There was nothing more heart-attack-inducing than realizing, right before killing someone, that there were still so many things he didn't know.
If he didn't relax a bit more, he felt that before he even killed anyone else, he would go first due to an unbalanced heart rate.
However, thoughts were thoughts—what had to be done still had to be done.
Kisho pressed his lips together.
The moonlight shifted as a dark cloud drifted across the sky, covering the moon and blocking the light it cast.
Seizing that instant of darkness, Kisho suppressed his Nen and sprinted toward the luxurious residence.
Lowering his breathing and channeling Nen into his feet, Kisho moved extremely fast. In a single instant, he flipped over the courtyard wall and entered the yard.
All the guards he could detect in his field of vision were ordinary people. For now, he hadn't seen any powerful Nen users—which was a good thing.
He noticed something: for those who had already learned Nen, unless they deliberately suppressed it, they would subconsciously maintain their Nen in the state of "Ten."
The members of the Phantom Troupe were like this, and so were the Nen-using musicians he had seen at Whale Manor.
But that wasn't strange. "Nen" was formed by energy that overflowed from within the body and gathered together. Although he didn't know what this energy was, it was definitely good stuff—so of course you'd want to keep it.
Kisho circled the residence once to scout it out and found quite a few openings. In the end, he chose to break in from the second floor, where there were the fewest people and which was also likely closest to Solzt.
There was a window open on the second floor of the residence. Standing beneath it, Kisho gathered his breath and leapt up to the outer wall of the second floor, clinging to it like a gecko. Just as he was about to slip through the open window, he heard two people talking:
"Does the master have any instructions?"
"Prepare as usual."
"Understood. Once it's ready, I'll deliver it immediately."
After the conversation ended, the sound of footsteps followed—very light. After about ten steps, there came slightly heavier footsteps going upstairs.
On the other side, from the room to the left, came an extremely faint sound of glass objects lightly clinking together.
Kisho slipped through the window and stood in the corridor—the window didn't face a room, but a long hallway connecting all the rooms on the second floor.
He steadied himself, scanned his surroundings, and after confirming there was no movement, quietly moved toward the room from which the sound had come, stepping lightly.
"…It's the mixing room."
Kisho hid behind the door and peeked inside.
A bartender stood in front of a massive liquor cabinet that connected the wall and the floor. He took several bottles of liquor and other items from the cabinet and placed them on the worktable behind him.
The bartender then walked to a freezer, took out a small bottle filled with a dark crimson liquid, brought it back to the worktable, and began mixing drinks.
His movements were quick. Various bases and additives were added to the shaker one after another, including that small bottle of liquid. After that, the bartender grasped the shaker and shook it for about five minutes, then gently poured the liquid inside into a glass.
As the blood-red liquid flowed into the glass, an indescribable smell drifted out.
Kisho caught the sweet, metallic scent unique to fresh blood, and his pupils shrank.
—The bottle contained blood.
...
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