Chapter 4: Playing with Poison.
It was late at night. Darin sat at his desk, writing a letter addressed to Barry and his sister, informing them that he would be leaving the estate for ten days and instructing them not to come looking for him. The letter was carefully worded—designed to prevent his sister from assuming control of the estate and to stop Barry from launching a search party to track him down.
He briefly considered taking Barry along but quickly dismissed the idea. Barry, bound by his sense of duty to the Meyes family, would undoubtedly impose strict protocols and limit Darin’s freedom to experiment. Darin didn’t want that. He needed to move without restrictions.
After placing the letter on his bed, he dressed in dark clothes, ready to slip away unnoticed. As a precaution, he took his usual dose of medicine—laced with poison—to avoid arousing suspicion. His servants were accustomed to him taking it, so no one would question his actions.
Quietly, Darin climbed out of his window, using a rope he had fashioned from sturdy cloth. He descended to the ground floor, careful to remain unseen, and made his way to the estate gate. The walls were high, but he had practiced this before. With agility, he climbed over the gate and landed on the other side.
Moving swiftly, Darin crouched low as he approached the trees lining the estate. He waited there, hidden behind the foliage, watching for the guards to change shifts. He knew his opportunity would come during the brief lull in their patrols.
Minutes later, the guards swapped their posts. Darin seized the moment, bolting through the shadows. It was deep into the night when he finally made it beyond the boundaries of his estate.
Once free, Darin navigated the quiet streets of the capital. The city, vast and teeming with life, seemed oblivious to his escape. It was past midnight but the city was raising with youth and enjoyment. His destination was clear—he needed to gather information, especially about the elusive inheritance that was key to his future.
After asking around for directions, he learned that only one guild remained open this late—the Guild of Asghar. The Asghar Guild had a notorious reputation, known throughout the capital for its ruthlessness and efficiency. Despite the risks, Darin headed straight for it, knowing that it was his best chance to uncover the knowledge he desperately needed.
His journey had only just begun.
Darin entered the guild quickly, noticing the stares from those inside. It was late, and not many people visited at this hour—only the regulars were around. He walked straight to the reception desk and requested to register himself.
The receptionist eyed him with suspicion and curiosity, taking in his calm demeanor. Darin maintained his composure, offering a respectful presence as he looked directly into her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, the receptionist handed him an F-rank adventurer card. Though it was a low rank, Darin was content. Instead of rushing off, he decided to mingle and gather information.
As he made his way around the room, making eye contact with different people, he could hear their thoughts. Some were focused on their next quest, while others were distracted by admiration for the receptionist. A few were grieving, weighed down by the recent loss of their group members. Finally, his gaze locked on a man whose thoughts revolved around poison.
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He observed the person a little. The man looked like a normal adventure but with extra-ordinary talent. A black pant with a belt carried knife and a pouch where the poison was.
Intrigued, Darin approached him and struck up a conversation. But the man was half ignoring him, Darin could tell from his thoughts. He quickly picked up a thought that startled him: The poison I made wasn’t strong enough. The more he continued the conversation, The man’s anxiety grew, and Darin realized he had been too direct. His approach had been clumsy, and the man a poison mercenary was already paranoid, aware of the stigma surrounding his deadly trade. Poisoners were despised because one mistake could mean death for anyone nearby.
Despite the man's unease, Darin quietly followed him back to his house. The moment the man figured out someone was following him, he speeded up and run. He didn’t even gave him a chance to explain or speak a few words.
When he knocked on the door, the man opened it abruptly and threw a powder in Darin’s face. Instantly, Darin’s eyes burned, and he struggled to breathe, gasping for air. He felt undying pain in his eyes and was unable to breath.
For a moment, the poison took hold, but just as quickly, it was neutralized within him, leaving him unharmed.
Darin took a deep breath, it was painful for a few seconds.
Darin smiled at the stunned man. “Oh, buddy, don’t worry. Poison doesn’t work on me.”
The mercenary’s eyes widened in shock, and he stepped back, clearly rattled. He retreated into the house, drawing his sword in defense. Darin, remaining calm, tossed a few gold coins onto the floor.
“I know you need gold for your poison research," Darin said, meeting the mercenary’s gaze. "I want you to keep researching, and in exchange for this gold, I need a supply of poison.”
The poisoner sheathed his sword, now more curious than fearful. He studied Darin, surprised that someone not only knew about his secret profession but wasn’t repelled by it. In the capital, poisoners were hated and disrespected, forced to live in the shadows.
After a tense pause, the man handed over several vials of poison. Darin looked him in the eye and asked, “How deadly are they?”
The mercenary grinned, his pride evident. “You’re talking to the most feared poison master in the entire kingdom. No one below the level of a Surpasser could survive these.”
Darin chuckled. “Well, I guess I’m not exactly human.”
The poison master’s smile faltered as the realization hit him—his poison had no effect on Darin. He stood in stunned silence as Darin, still smiling, turned and left the house.
The air outside was thick with a foul stench from the poisoner’s lair. Darin wrinkled his nose in disgust—he had come from a royal estate, after all. Even during his college days, his room had never been this messy or smelled this awful. Still, despite the unpleasant experience, he had accomplished what he came for.
Satisfied with the poisons he had acquired, Darin felt a surge of confidence. Now he had a new weapon in his arsenal. He could mix the poison into his enemies' meals, share dinner or lunch with them, and walk away unscathed while they succumbed to the deadly toxins. His plan was coming together.
Darin walked out of the poison mercenary's room, carrying several vials of poison. Now, he felt confident—certain that he could handle any warrior beneath the Surpasser level. As he strolled through the streets, he purposefully made eye contact with everyone he passed, hoping to catch a glimpse of information, a fleeting thought, or even the slightest hint about the inheritance he so desperately needed.
The streets of the capital were bustling as morning approached. Hundreds of people moved about, and Darin’s gaze swept across them, one by one. His mind filled with countless thoughts and conversations as he picked up on the minds of the passersby. Thousands of fleeting ideas and emotions flooded his consciousness, each one saved and stored, as he continued his search for clues that might lead him to his goal.
The capital was waking up. People were starting their daily routines—shopkeepers setting up stalls, merchants heading to their shops. The guard shifts were changing, and the general hustle and bustle of the city intensified. Though it wasn’t yet the busiest hour of the day, the streets were alive with activity as the city geared up for a new day. Darin, despite not having slept the previous night, felt no fatigue. In fact, he felt stronger, more energized than ever before.
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