Outwardly, he maintained a calm yet not entirely detached expression—a mix of worries, anxiety, and fear.

  Ulrich believed this reaction accurately depicted a young teen being questioned suddenly by an officer. If he were to act calm and completely indifferent, that would certainly be abnormal.

  "Alright." He nodded, his eyes glancing at Ulrich's satchel before turning away.

  Thud. Thud.

  Each step allowed Ulrich to take a deep breath of relief, knowing he just escaped the scrutiny of a harpoonist, of an officer.

  With the goal of studying Ancient Hermes before midnight, he did not want to encounter a complication. He didn't have the luxury that is time, and as such, each minute, each second must count for something.

  Ulrich watched as the officer walked away in a steady manner toward the receptionist, where Selena would greet him with a smile. Noticing Ulrich's eyes, she threw him a subtle smile before returning to interact with the officer.

  He murmured, his hand raised toward his left chest, and with a sigh, he tapped thrice. Ulrich was not a religious person by any means.

  However, facing uncertainty and a hint of guilt, he couldn't help but pray for her good fortune. The Night Mother, who was known to bless her believers, would certainly watch over Selena as she was a true believer of the Mother, like a certain someone.

  After obtaining the book on Ancient Hermes, Ulrich did not linger in the inner district. At the same time, he could not return to the outer district, his place of residence. Quite frankly, the bits and pieces of information revealed by Selena alarmed him. This revelation made him hesitant.

  Ulrich's eyes lifted toward the sky, and there, the sun, which hung in the sky, slowly merged with the sea. He lowered his head and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

  The mechanical arms of the clock continued to tick, and suddenly, he found the thin book hidden at the bottom of his satchel heavy. It was no longer just a book or a stack of papers strung together.

  It was his chance to uncover the secrets of his dreams, perhaps a clue to 'home'. At this moment, Ulrich didn't move carelessly. He remained rooted on the rooftop, falling into thought.

  The implications, pros and cons, as well as possible actions, appeared like tidal waves in his mind, quickly forming a clear picture. In the end, he smiled, the last ray of sunlight lit his face, and his mind gained clarity.

  Ulrich glanced at the time once more and looked past the street. He noticed some inconspicuous figures he had not paid attention to before—three to be exact.

  They spread across the street below, trying to blend with the evening crowd. One leaned against a lamp-post, another pretended to examine goods at a closed stall, and the third sat on a barrel near an alley entrance.

  He chuckled. It was too obvious for someone like Ulrich, whose experience far exceeded his age.

  His hand instinctively moved toward the folding knife in his satchel, fingers brushing against the rough-textured book. These people had maintained their distance throughout his journey to the library and back.

  No—an unnecessary question. He knew exactly how long.

  Since he left the library, these three had been trailing him. He noticed them immediately during his conversation with the harpoonist, but dismissed them as unimportant at the time. After all, he had more pressing matters. Not to mention, he didn't believe these three were in cahoots with the harpoonist.

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  His line of thinking was simple and clear. The harpoonist did not recognize him on their first face-to-face meeting, and had he done so, they would have only followed him after interacting with the harpoonist. This was a logical conclusion.

  it can only mean that they are working under someone else's order.

  The crucial question was: On whose order?

  In that moment, a subtle yet significant change had Ulrich toss the question to the back of his mind. Narrowing his eyes, one of the men by the lamp-post moved, his movement so natural that others wouldn't question it. Yet, it did not escape Ulrich's scrutiny.

  The man reached into his waist—not where a common worker would keep their tools or wallets, but where someone might holster a weapon. In the fading light, Ulrich caught the glint of metal.

  At the same time, the other two began moving toward his direction.

  Ulrich's face darkened, and subconsciously, his grip tightened on the bag. Should he be worried? Concerned about being surrounded? Perhaps. However, thinking about it, he let out a low chuckle.

  Although he was young in appearance, his mind was aged, sharpened from having lived a second life on Earth. Not to mention, for the past ten years, that extraordinarily lucid dream had unknowingly enhanced his physical skill. Mind and body, Ulrich lacked neither.

  Walking to the rooftop door, he passed through a series of laundry lines. Some were sheets and still wet, while others were dry—clothes of all kinds. As he grabbed the doorknob, the cold metal bit his fingers, yet his grip only grew tighter. With a twist, the metal groaned, but refused to turn.

  Seeing this, he sighed with relief.

  Since the door was locked, this entrance was cleared, and all he had to worry about was that side ladder that hung from the edge of the building.

  After checking the door, he examined his surroundings more carefully.

  The rooftop was sparse, except for the air vents and pipes that connected it from one building to the other. Following those pipes, his eyes flickered with astonishment. There was a small botanical garden, perhaps occupying just about a fifth of the rooftop's space. The plants varied in colors and shapes, with some unrecognizable even to him.

  He mused and shook his head. In his current condition, it was possible, especially using his savings. However, the 'change' that occurred in his dream did not allow him to enjoy this luxury.

  Just as that thought passed, he looked down and held the satchel in his palm, staring at the shut air vent.

  Ulrich took a deep breath and made his way to the nearest vent with silent steps. Standing in front of the square, metallic box, he placed the satchel on the floor.

  The air vent was held together by a few screws, and with the right tool, it was easy to pry open. Fortunately, he was always prepared for situations such as these.

  Quickly, Ulrich opened his satchel and revealed its contents: wrenches and turnscrews, various miscellaneous tools, and items. Even a handful of cash and coins.

  He focused his attention on the turnscrews. They resembled modern screwdrivers, but were more antique and crude. The handle was made of wood, smooth and round, with a metal shaft and flat tip.

  Immediately, he got to work. In just a few seconds, he unscrewed each piece holding the cover in place, then placed the metal vent on the ground. After which, he stuffed the satchel inside before sealing it back to its original state.

  With his belongings hidden, Ulrich walked to the edge of the building and glanced down.

  There were supposed to be three people, yet from the look of it, only one person was approaching the ladder. Could it be that the other two had entered the building and took a roundabout way to cover the other entrance? That was most likely the case.

  At this moment, Ulrich crouched against the wall at the edge of the building with a dagger in his hand. From here, no one could see his figure unless they had climbed the ladder entirely.

  Ultimately, Ulrich didn't plan to run away. That would be the easy choice, yet he chose not to, believing it was necessary to take the initiative to leverage an advantage against this 'unknown' third party. Only by taking the first strike could he gain an upper hand, especially against a hidden enemy.

  A cowardly individual will only invite further trouble; the courageous person will only meet their end sooner. Ulrich was neither cowardly nor courageous; he only believed in the results thereafter. And since the circumstance required him to act offensively, he felt no anxiety, nor fear in doing so.

  This sole thought set his blood ablaze and boiled his heart with an unquenching bloodlust. Even at this moment, when he glanced at the time on his watch, his hand quivered ever so slightly.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  He could hear the steps slowly approaching, one from below the side of the building. Perhaps it was the sound of a heavy leather boot clanging against the rusted metal ladder, but it was no less deafening to his ears. The silence of the surrounding alley only further echoed its thickness through the stone wall.

  Thud.

  It stopped.

  Thak!

  In that moment, Ulrich leaped from below, his knife glinting with a silver glow as it pierced toward the man's neck.