Chapter 89: Starlight Journey Scrapbook
The night was deep, providing him with the best cover.
Using the secrets provided in Jeff’s Illustrated Guide, he moved like a ghost through the shadows of Gray Rock Town.
He had already eliminated the few "Town Spies" and the "Hyenas" responsible for combat and ambushes.
Gray Rock Town was actually divided into two districts. One was the northeast district, where Adventurers were active, which was also the bustling commercial area.
The southwest district, on the other hand, was the residential area, and it was where administrative and patrol enforcement was strictest. The northeast district only had basic patrols.
Because the Adventurers were a motley crew and vendettas were common, the Patrol Bureau preferred not to get involved in matters there, which gave Lance his opportunity to strike.
As the names of those individuals were filled into the Illustrated Guide one by one, Lance had nearly grasped all the details of the "Ghoul Dogs" gang.
In the eyes of Jeff, that sheltered little thief, the Wayne before him was a mysterious senior from a large organization, possessing unfathomable strength.
However, after he pieced together the truth by combining secrets from other members, he realized it was all a complete joke.
This so-called "Gold Washer" was nothing more than a man who had fled here like a beaten dog after getting his hands dirty and stealing money from his former employer.
Years of alcoholism and debauchery, coupled with only being responsible for fencing stolen goods without needing to fight in a comfortable environment like Gray Rock Town, had likely caused his Attributes to degenerate until he was weaker than even an Ordinary Adventurer.
And so, Lance sat on the sofa with a clear conscience, quietly waiting for his prey to return to its nest.
But he never expected the man would be so dramatic upon his return.
First, he started taking off his clothes, then rolled around on the dusty floor, and finally, he threw a dagger and thrusted his blade behind that broken cabinet.
When Lance lit the kerosene lamp, he discovered that after doing all this, the man was actually flashing a crooked, victorious smirk at the empty air.
Lance was completely dumbfounded.
"You shouldn’t be..."
Wayne stared at the figure sitting in the lamplight, his mind completely short-circuiting.
’This made no sense at all.’
’This wasn’t the logical behavior of an assassin who had snuck into someone’s home in the dead of night.’
’Shouldn’t a normal person be hiding in the shadows, waiting to ambush?’
’Why would he light a lamp and just sit there watching the show?’
Lance sighed.
’Why? Because I’ve confirmed you’re a total scrub, of course!’
He was now one hundred percent certain that this man was exactly as the secrets from the others had described.
He was a bit nuts, suffered from severe persecution paranoia, lacked real strength, and was blindly overconfident.
Furthermore, from Lance’s perspective, the speed of the man’s earlier thrust was on par with a Goblin.
Now that he had confirmed the man was a good-for-nothing, there was no need to waste any more time.
"BANG!"
The floorboards beneath his feet exploded with a sharp crack.
Lance’s figure vanished from his spot in an instant.
The agility boost from the Dragon Hunting Breathing Combat Technique, combined with the unique power-generation skills of the Azure Dragon Extreme Intent Style, launched him forward like a cannonball.
Wayne didn’t even have time to react defensively; his vision was just a blur.
A large hand, like an iron clamp, had already locked tightly around his throat, preventing him from making a sound.
Lance wasted no words.
His arm muscles tensed instantly, and with a burst of precise force, he yanked the man’s head forward while simultaneously driving his right elbow into his chest like a sledgehammer.
"CRACK."
The crisp, sickening sound of breaking bones rang out.
It was the sound of his cervical vertebrae and sternum shattering at the same time.
The light in Wayne’s eyes swiftly faded in terror. Before he could even let out a scream, his body slumped limply to the ground.
[The group your defeated opponent belongs to has a certain level of local renown. Added to Illustrated Guide.]
As the notification flashed across his retina, Lance casually tossed the corpse aside and expertly opened the system panel.
The spies and thugs he had taken care of earlier were all poor bastards, with nothing on them but a few Silver Coins.
But this one was different.
As the "Gold Washer" in charge of fencing the gang’s goods, he had also just finished processing a half-month’s backlog of merchandise.
This man was a true fat sheep.
Lance crouched down and deftly pulled an exquisitely crafted money pouch from inside Wayne’s clothes.
He weighed it in his hand.
It wasn’t particularly heavy.
A thought struck Lance, and he pulled open the pouch to take a look.
A brilliant golden gleam shone dazzlingly in the lamplight.
Just as he thought—Gold Coins.
This must be the "public fund" from the recent transaction that hadn’t yet been turned over to his boss, Buck.
Lance unceremoniously stuffed it into his own pocket, then stood up and turned his gaze to the wall in the corner of the room.
According to the secrets in the Illustrated Guide, Wayne had a bad habit he couldn’t shake.
Petty theft.
Every time he handled a large transaction, he would secretly skim some of the money and hide it in a secret compartment in this room.
Lance walked over to the wall and tapped it gently with his fingers a few times.
"TAP TAP."
The sound was somewhat hollow.
He drew his Short Sword and pried hard along the seam between the bricks.
A few loose bricks came away, revealing a small hidden compartment behind them.
Inside lay a bulging leather bag.
Lance reached in and pulled it out. It was heavy in his hand.
He opened it and saw that it was, as expected, filled mostly with Silver Coins.
"All mine now."
Lance tucked both money pouches away in satisfaction. He’d glanced at them briefly; if he wasn’t mistaken, his haul for the day was 3 Gold Coins and 57 Silver Coins.
After looting all the valuables, Lance’s gaze fell upon the messy bed.
Besides money.
There was something else he was now extremely curious about.
According to the secret, this fellow seemed to have a rather... special collecting hobby.
Lance walked over and lifted the greasy pillow.
An exquisitely bound album lay quietly underneath.
A line of florid, hot-stamped gilt lettering on the cover read: [Starlight Journey Scrapbook].
Lance raised an eyebrow.
Based on the material and craftsmanship of the album alone, it could probably fetch a high price of 2 Gold Coins on the market.
He opened the album.
Inside were no pages, but rather palm-sized, transparent crystal wafers, as thin as a cicada’s wing.
Each one was carefully slotted into a special insert.
Lance recognized this thing.
It was a type of high-end collectible souvenir jointly released by the "Minstrel Association" and the "Cartographer Association."
Among the noble ladies and young women of the Kingdom, this thing was practically hard currency; it was their most frenzied collecting obsession.
If he had to find an analogy, it was probably the equivalent of the blind boxes from his past life that girls found utterly irresistible.
But its origins were steeped in the smoke of gunpowder.
The item first came into being during the third Hero’s war against the Demon King.
Initially, it wasn’t a toy, but a tactical tool developed by the Court Mage Corps called the [Miniature Landform Imprint Crystal].
Scouts would carry them behind enemy lines or into unknown Underground Cities to record complex terrain, troop deployments, and even dynamic changes in Magic Power concentration.
Later, after the war ended, shrewd Cartographers saw its commercial potential.
They sponsored the research of a certain Legendary Mage, using it to improve the original, cumbersome imprinting method and technology, miniaturizing it into single-use Trigger Cards.
The Tactical Crystals, which could originally only display black-and-white outlines, were upgraded into "Panoramic Cards" that included brilliant colors, sounds, and even the tactile sensation of ambient temperature.
The Association packaged these cards as high-end souvenirs and sold them across the continent.
As a result, they sparked a craze that has continued to this day.