Chapter 26

Lock was just about finished with his workout, which he'd transmuted into more of a warm-up once he knew for sure they were entering the dungeon, when one of the twins jumped into his room through the open window. She completed a roll on the ground ending up in a crouching position just as Lock finished thrusting his hips into the air, completing and holding the bridge move.

She stumbled a bit, and stood up to stare at him with a cool gaze.

Suffice to say the situation was fairly awkward.

But not as awkward as it would have been had he been doing the exercise in front of the window, and she'd jumped straight onto him. Thank god that he avoided windows out of principle. Counter-sniping procedures save the day once again.

“So, which one are you.” Lock asked, trying to ease up on the tension permeating through the small room. Absent-mindedly stopping his exercise routine and starting to gather his adventurer gear, which he put into a sack he then slung over his shoulder.

“Tia.” his subordinate grunted out, hiccuped, and then elaborated further. “You can tell us apart by the colour of our hair bands,” she gestured at her ponytail. Well to be more precise, she pointed at the green hairband holding it up, “I wear green, my sister red.”

“Alright, thank you, I'll be going then.” Lock said, glad to have a way to differentiate the two and made to leave. He exited the room, and closed the door behind him, feeling that even that simple act was awkward.

If he'd stayed behind and put his ear at the door, he would have heard someone stomping their foot onto the ground and cursing the existence of heels.

Making his way past Dog Breath, the third time today, Lock continued onwards in the direction leading away from the dungeon. To an abandoned alley where he could change his clothes covertly. The area around the beginner dungeon was always a bit busy, the action of switching out disguise within its vicinity therefore being unwise.

Which begged to question how Tia had managed to enter his room without arousing any attention?

What had her skillset been again? Something about illusions?

Fitting for moving unseen in broad daylight Lock guessed.

Safely absconded within dark alley after another minute or so of walking, Lock started -seemingly lethargically- changing his clothes. The cause for his slowness was mostly the complexity of the gear involved, a small part however was also the fact that he was enjoying himself. He had bought himself some effective stuff with his drug money. The fact that it was cumbersome didn't make it any less enjoyable. The only comparison he could really think of was to be made with driving a new sports car. One needed to savour the simple process of getting in for the first time.

Leather soled and sanded steel greaves running up to his knees, which then made way for a set of hard-boiled leather breeches. These were however slightly covered up by a chain-mail shirt which ran almost down to his knees. It had been the most expensive of his purchases, mostly due to the effort needed to encase every ring of the thing in a casing of leather.

He was an Assassin after all, couldn't have him clanking up a storm whenever he walked.

Outside of the doublet underneath the chain-mail, and the dark red rock almost completely covering it, the only other piece of equipment covering his upper body were the wicked looking gauntlets covering his arms.

The fingers were filed into incredibly sharp points, and within the gauntlet itself was a small mechanism he could press to make the points excrete poison.

You know, to add insult -more like poison- to the injury if he ever managed to rake his fingers across anyone's skin, or if he just straight out buried his hand in their gut. The poison currently in residence within the gauntlet was one that had been inspired by a hemotoxin in his last world. The way it worked was that it rapidly turned the blood it came in contact with gelatinous.

A brutal poison, or should he call it a venom? What he had now was the human made replica though... Whatever.

Lock slipped a small talismanic bracelet onto his right arm, that he had failed to mention due to it not really being equipment, but more of a gimmick. It was a magic toy made for children so they could start exercising their mana wielding capabilities as early, and as safely, as possible. He pushed a miniscule amount of mana into the bracelet, making it glow a bright blue, a bit more and it turned purple. It was a control tool. Different amounts of mana caused different colours, and if one forced in too much, too fast. Well, then it disintegrated in a bright flash.

A belt of daggers found itself slung around his shoulder, a fang-like short-sword quickly joining them in a horizontal position on his back.

Securing a pouch containing useful potions, some water and some food to his side Lock put on his last piece of equipment. A steel burganet helmet that he'd sanded down vigorously so it reflected no light.

It was also enchanted to not obstruct the view of the person wearing it. Without the enchantment it would have been largely useless for him, the small slits it had for eyes hardly being enough to really take in his surroundings.

With the enchantment however? It became a vital piece of protection that covered his head while still letting him discern everything he would have been capable of discerning without it. Awareness was as always, key.

The only negative of the whole thing was the fact that it weighed nearly seven pounds. He couldn't really complain however. The greaves, chain-mail, daggers, sword, potions, food, water and helmet still weighed less than half of what the average fireman or soldier carried. Although to be fair, a soldier wasn't really expected to jump around and complete complicated close combat manoeuvres in his gear.

Soldiers had also been fully grown men, and while Lock was now in a world of magic, he'd never put a single attribute point into Strength, so he was simply an overly trained sixteen-year old in that regard.

Whatever, he thought to himself as he put away his peasant clothes and hid them under a dumpster. While his strength might not have been anything special for his profession, his Endurance, and therefore his stamina, were very much superhuman at this point.

Lock exited the alley, immediately noting the different reactions that people now had to meeting his gaze and walking in his path. Namely that they didn't do either. He moved through the street towards the dungeon in his own small pocket of isolation like every other adventurer. Although he elicited an even stronger reaction than the other combatants on the street.

This was after all the area around the beginner dungeon, the milieu here wasn't very impressive. He already stood out due to the fact that his gear was well put together and seemed taken care of. The fact that he was also the only one obscuring his face contributed a lot too.

Helmets were actually fairly rare to find in adventuring circles.

Heroes after all needed to be approachable, and helmets were not very conducive towards that. Humans reading each other's facial expressions and all. Therefore the only people who wore helmets were the ones who really needed them, and the overly paranoid.

Lock liked to think that he belonged to both groups. It wasn't paranoia if they were really after you, and he needed a helmet due to his wish to not have his head bashed in. It hadn't been that necessary on the trip he'd undertaken with his grandfather, but now that he was basically acting alone a few more precautions would need to be taken.

Sadly the golden fleece that he'd looted from the adventure undertaken with his Grandfather was still undergoing treatment to be converted into something useful. While the material showed an astonishing degree of durability, it simply wasn't capable of being used as an armour in the shape that it was in. The quality that made it so desirable now became its detriment, the fact that it was so impervious to damage meant that the leatherworker Lock had hired was progressing very slowly.

Hopefully it would be finished by the time the inevitable confrontation with the Castouts arrived.

Lock had other things in the works as well. He'd really started going all out with the drug money he'd acquired over the years. He still sometimes wondered if it was enough.

Lost in his own thoughts as he was, Lock quickly reached the city square that had sprung up around the dungeon once it had come into existence and persisted for a few years. Finding Mia in the crowd he slowly made his way through the masses that, now that it was so crowded, did not have the luxury of getting out of his way anymore.

Approaching the girl leisurely leaning against the wall of a baker, eyes flitting about, he joined her in her position to a raised eyebrow.

“I'm not looking for a party.” Mia coolly said, giving him an expectant gaze, that managed to convey her wish for him to leave quite well.

“You didn't think I'd enter the dungeon dressed like an NPC did you?” Lock asked teasingly instead of being cowed. Mia seemingly recognized him by the sound of his voice and the situation, if the widening of her eyes was any indication.

Quick comprehension skills seemed to become more and more apparent the longer he interacted with the twins. Good.

She slowly shook her head, “I guess not, although.” She looked him over, “you don't really look like...” She trailed off.

“I don't look like what?” Lock asked curiously.

Mia scratched the back of her head. “Well, like someone in possession of a Class that would allow one to sneak into the beginner dungeon.” She said, causing Lock to grow even more confused.

He tilted his head at her, having to go with exaggerated bodily gestures to show his confusion since his face was covered. “Why would I need to sneak in?”

Now it was Mia that seemed confused, she gained an unsure look to her face as she haltingly asked. “Because of the age limit?”

The blood in Lock's veins almost froze over and his heart started going into overdrive.

Why did they think he needed to sneak past the age limit? Did they know about his reincarnation? How had they found out!

Instinctive thoughts rose to his mind as he was confronted with the possibility of someone knowing his secret, before rationality once again asserted itself.

No, it couldn't be. No one knew. His mind sped along the old tracks at a speed that surprised even him as he came to the conclusion of what must have happened. His face underwent a variety of expressions in the three seconds it took him to realize what misunderstanding had occurred. He was feeling really grateful for the helmet now.

What misunderstanding had occurred? You may ask.

It was quite simple really. The Underground thought he was older than he actually was. Because they didn't think someone below the age of twenty, the age restriction for the beginner dungeon, could create a drug like Happy Time.

And they were absolutely right.

Naturally they thought that if he wanted to enter the beginner dungeon he must have some way of disguising his real age to pass through the inspection, and since they were a collection of rogues they came to the most obvious conclusion. Lock was in possession of a high-level skill that allowed him to disguise his age. Disguise was the centrepoint of the rogue Classes. Therefore, Lock must be in possession of a rogue Class. This was the information that had been handed to the twins as they'd gotten their assignment, and that was why Mia was confused. Due to him not being dressed as someone with a stealth Class.

The question now was, how could he resolve the situation in a satisfactory manner? Lock had shown confusion once confronted with the possibility of him having to sneak past the guards of the dungeon, implying that he did not have to. Which he didn't.

He could tell them the truth, that he was actually sixteen years old, but they wouldn't believe him. A claim that it was not a stealth Class allowing him to appear younger was also possible. Something like the Alchemists philosopher stone granting protection against ageing, but no. If even a rumour of him having created a philosopher's stone, or hells, even something else temporarily granting him the appearance of youth, he'd be fucked. Every single individual in the world would join the manhunt after him.

Especially the powerful old fogies whose joints were beginning to ache.

Mia had been waiting for an answer for several seconds now, he needed something, anything, and thus Lock blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Which mind you, was perfectly reasonable, he was an adult, perfectly capable of thinking under pressure, thank you very much.

“Okay you got me.” He muttered. Admitting that the other party was correct to make the things said afterwards more plausible. A simple tactic. He rolled his eyes, not that she could see. “I'm not actually sixteen.”

Mia seemed slightly triumphant at his admission, and he could see in her eyes that she wanted him to continue, so he did.

“I was just surprised that you assumed image was everything after the recent lesson you were provided with, so I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.” Lock said. “I am in fact in possession of a stealth Class allowing me to falsify my age, but think.” He urged, pointing discreetly at the two guards carefully keeping an eye on the dungeon entrance. “Who is more likely to be suspected of faking his way into the dungeon, someone dressed like a rogue, or someone dressed like a knight. You know I might hate that these stereotypes exist, but they sure can be useful. I won't be sneaking in, as much as they will be letting me in without bearing any suspicion whatsoever.”

“I hadn't thought of that.” Mia said slowly, seemingly distracted.

Good, Lock had managed to dodge the most dangerous direction this conversation could have taken. Namely the direction towards an inquiry of why he didn't feel the need to sneak past the age limit. Acting confused and admitting to a mistake that hadn't actually been one won the day once again.

Lock grasped her mesh covered left arm carefully, not wanting to prick her with his fingers and pulled her closer to him, seeking to distract her from the previous conversation. By any means necessary, be it physical contact or changing the topic. “Look,” he said quietly into her ear, putting an urgent tone into his voice. “Information is the basis of all combat, which makes misdirection the best weapon. My ruse is only effective as long as no one knows about it, so just forget it okay.” He urged her.

Asking her, seemingly urgently, to cover for a lie only made it more believable.

She quickly acquiescenced with a solemn nod and he let her go, returning the gesture. Distraction successful.

He clapped his hands, seeking to disperse the last five minutes into non-existence as if they were a dust mote to be chased away before speaking in a clearly more cheerful voice. “I'd say it's prime time to go dungeoneering, wouldn't you say so as well?” He faux asked, but was already moving towards the dungeon entrance.