Brent Stinebaker
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II-68 The Approach
🕑 Added 2025-02-16 18:04:12 +0000 UTCWhen you’re infiltrating a place, you shouldn’t be the one worried about whether you’ll be detected or if the enemy has more surprises for you. That’s something you’re going to have to deal with either way. Instead, you want to cause dilemmas for the person you’re infiltrating. Give them problems to deal with.
The biggest benefit here is that they can’t devote the fullness of their focus to you. That is the secret behind most of my illustrious successes—illustrious, if you can even call it that. The main thing is, if they’re trying to put out several fires, they can’t really focus on all of them.
So, you want pressing matters to distract them. Pressing matters such as an attempt on their life, an attack on their businesses, or a troublesome rival you’ve handed to them. Frankly, get creative. Get them distracted. And while they’re scattered, then you move in. Remember: an unbalanced enemy is a good enemy to raid.
-William Yu, Trespasser
II-68
The Approach
Wei left Vendrian and Rafael to monitor Agnesia’s progress. The girl was on six defeats and counting. The Tower of Possibility had already begun recommending that she challenge another portal—or that she simply forfeit for today and try again later. Her frustration was mounting, as was her rage, but instead of feeding her power, it just made her more sloppy. This, too, was another thing she needed to overcome. A furious adversary wasn’t always a dangerous one; one misstep, one act of clumsiness could see one undone. Wei had told her before he left to focus on her skill, to achieve victory whatever the cost, and not to settle for a lesser evolution. That was paramount.
They were going to be facing an enemy of spectacular power on their own territory. The Collectress would likely punish every misstep, every slip, and with Agnesia entering the den of snakes, she needed to be strong enough to strangle the serpent in their own nest. This would harden her resolve, or so Wei hoped.
“It will also let her take her mind off things,” the Shell mused quietly. Both Wei and his Skill thought of Ellena at that moment. When they returned to Slumberland, the former queen was still sleeping there, resting as if she hadn’t a care in the world. But she was still a dead woman walking. Wei could feel the taint within her—the power that flowed from that final precipice where the Hound resided. He had thought about severing it within her several times, but doing so would bring about her final end. The Hound was the only thing keeping her outside. Technically, she was already past the threshold. Only a single Aspect of her—her Mind, retained by the Harbinger—allowed her to linger in this present realm, and thereafter a bargain was struck between Wei and the Hound themselves.
As Wei returned, snoring, drinking, eating, and—in a few cases—crying dominated the behavior of his disciples. He made eye contact with the orc chef, who was busy stuffing his face full of pie and filling while wiping his tears away.
“Oh, oh, Wei,” the orc chef said, sobbing. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect—” The young master blinked, surprised at this sudden turn of events.
“It is well,” Wei said, unsure of how to react. He had seen adults cry before, especially during moments of humiliation or when things did not go their way. This, however, was something he didn’t often deal with. Perhaps an older or senior disciple would help comfort or reprimand them, or a master might give the instruction they desired. But those people were absent now.
Wei was the senior disciple. He was the master. He was the patriarch.
Taking a moment away from meeting his father and Bishop, Wei walked over to the orc and awkwardly laid a hand on his shoulder. Despite his pudgy form, there was a substantial amount of muscle beneath. Wei raised an eyebrow at that. “I—uh, you can begin telling me what ails you, my friend.”
The orc sniffled once more. He looked at Wei. “I just—I came here to avoid fighting, you know. I wanted to be a chef. I wanted to cook and live for myself. But after I escaped from my war-brewing clan, I find myself in the same position I did before. Just—just—” He held up a pipe. “This is what I want to do. I don’t want to kill things. Why does everything keep trying to kill me? I didn’t ask to be born.”
Wei looked down at the sobbing orc, and he detected a trace of alcohol on him as well. He tracked the scent to one of the attendants wandering nearby—large jugs filled with amber fluid that reeked of delectable substances. A besotted party was a vulnerable one. He might need to enforce proper rules upon his disciples—no drinking without his wanton allowance. Still, he let it go for now. He gave the orc a nod. “Indeed, the heavens are unjust,” he sighed. Awkwardly, he sat beside his disciple. “I would not have you forced into this life. It is not my desire to see you humiliated or to force you to run every morning.”
The orc’s eyes widened, tinged with disbelief. “It’s not—” he began.
Wei shook his head. “Now, I know you hate running—or physical activity in genera—and I know that—” His voice caught as he remembered the orc’s heart stopping several times. “Be it out of fear of my punishment or just determination, I know that you are trying,” Wei said, striving to keep the disgust out of his tone. For all the orc’s capabilities and the oddities of his Class, his physical stamina truly left much to be desired. But that was just one thing. The path of the cultivator was one to be chosen and dedicated to. Wei held out a hand to the orc in a placating gesture. “You did not ask for this. It is an unkind fate. I wish you could be an artisan. But look about you—this place of vice, pleasure, and degeneracy is all that awaits us. There is no better world, no utopia, waiting, not unless we wrestle this realm down until I can do what I set out to do.”
Wei searched for the proper words to soothe his disciple, only to find that he couldn’t even soothe himself. Once more, he thought of Agnesia, of Ellena, of everyone he had failed, and all the times he was laid low. “All we have are ourselves. Hold on to your dream.” He pointed to the orc’s pie. “It will come true. Someday. Someday. But you must survive. You must thrive. You must be stronger. They seek to take this from us. They seek to take your peace. Spite them. Be better than them. Thrive.” Then, Wei patted the orc on the shoulder one more time. “Then you may make as many pies as you wish.”
The orc sniffled once more, and something hardened behind his gaze—a strength, or perhaps a desperation. Both would suffice to carry him through the coming days. “All right. All right,” he nodded. “Thanks, Wei. I needed that.”
Wei considered reprimanding him for not using his proper title as Patriarch, but, alas, they had all been through enough.
“Wei!” Bishop cried out, his voice calling through the transparent veils. The young master rose. “Duty calls. It’s not easy being a Patriarch.”
Wei grinned at the orc, and slowly, strangely, weakly, the orc grinned back.
As Wei crossed over to where Bishop and his father were waiting, he gave the trespasser operative a nod while completely ignoring William Yu. His father, for his part, didn’t acknowledge Wei either; instead, he seemed preoccupied with other matters. A shimmering presence lingered by his hip—an invisible blade cloaked in strange essences. Part psionic, part illusion, and part force-related, it refracted rays of light around its surface. Additionally, Wei sensed a trickle of other energies emanating from within his father. Whatever Bishop had been doing, it was fast. William Yu now had a Class again—a Class that Wei permitted his father to have on the condition he helps with the infiltration.
Shadowy Infiltrator: Lv. 64.
Not very high in terms of Essence Level, however, and Wei frowned slightly. It was lower than most of the demonic attendants around them. Could his father truly be of any use like this?
“So, I take it we have things to discuss,” Wei said. “You summoned me here, Bishop. Best that you begin.”
“All right then,” Bishop replied. “I managed to get some intelligence about what kind of demons and other characters we might be running into within the Collectress’s Palace of Lust. However, the mansion is also expecting some major guests today.”
“Guests from this place as well?” Wei interjected.
“From this place,” Bishop confirmed. “Yeah. Now, don’t be surprised. Demonic nobility usually holds little get-togethers, so to speak. Their circles might be fighting, but frankly, one sin never exists in a vacuum, if you understand what I mean. After all, what’s a little position in society without the corruption of debauchery and whoring to go with it?”
Bishop’s grin was not shared by Wei. Meanwhile, William shook his head slightly. “This is a good thing,” William said. “The girl will be able to enter without drawing too much attention to herself. She’ll be just another prize won by the Collectress. The others will barely note her. Larger figures—Marquises, Knights, Counts of Pride, and whatnot—will be the main sources of focus.”
William eyed Wei. “And that is how I’m going to stay undercover. I need you to find me someone that’s also heading into her realm. Someone stupid enough to accept something into their Inventory.”
Wei eyed his father. “Why can’t you just cross over through my anchor? We need multiple entries and options.” His voice held firm as he spoke. William hadn’t changed his attire, but Wei sensed something different about him—he was standing as if clad in armor, with an extra weight about him. “Explain,” Wei said tersely. He still struggled to speak with his father without devolving into rage, though he was getting better at controlling that.
William began to elaborate. “So, your Source Anchor—that’s one reliable way of entering. But what if Agnesia is incapacitated? What if she gets discovered?”
“She won’t be,” Wei said, his voice thin. The interruption made William snarl, but then he mastered himself.
“She might be…” Wei’s father paused, his tone echoing the voice he’d used when disciplining the boy. And despite everything—despite how it rankled him—the young master listened.
“He’s trying to share wisdom,” the Shell interjected quietly. “We can take whatever knowledge he offers, his mastery. We do not need to respect him as a person, but we will use him as an expert.” Despite how much it offended Wei, he agreed, and so he let William continue.
“We want another approach,” William said. “The best way is through another guest—a patron, so to speak. We don’t want another victim that the Collectress is collecting. Those are usually shackled in some way, controlled. And also, their essence levels aren’t high enough to mask someone else. That’s why I need you to use this.” He held out what seemed to be a shadowy pocket mirror—a heart-shaped artifact that gleamed in the light. When Wei held it up before himself, he saw nothing but a vague outline of his person in the darkness. “If you can slip this into someone’s inventory, however you might do that, it’ll be useful for me to get across places.”
Wei blinked as he studied the essence emanating from the artifact.
Mirror of Unseen Pathways (Epic)
“How many of these Artifacts do you have?” Wei asked, looking at Bishop.
Bishop grinned. “We, the lodge—we don’t technically have any artifacts, but other people sometimes see them go missing.”
The trespasser operative grunted with slight glee. “You don’t want anything being traced back to you. That’s one rule in this game.” Wei wondered what kind of scoundrels, vagabonds, and deceivers his associates were getting into business with.
“So, on top of that,” Bishop continued, “I think there might be a way for you to get this mirror into someone else’s Inventory without incurring notice. Goldskull.”
“The Duke of Pride?” Wei said, narrowing his gaze.
“Yeah,” Bishop confirmed. “The one I warned you about earlier. He’s also a major investor in the skin game—slave trade, if you will. He’s interested in unique individuals, sometimes trading them for fun and profit. That’s why he’s heading to the Collectress’s mansion too. Fun and games.”
Wei’s stomach coiled slightly at that. Slavery wasn’t unknown to him, even from his days growing up on Evernest, but dealing in such a distasteful business polluted one’s spirit and left them stained with dishonor. “So, are you asking me to transfer one of my…”
“Oh god, no,” Bishop sneered, shaking his head and folding his muscular arms to suppress laughter.
Wei narrowed his eyes. “What now, Master Bishop?”
“Listen, son,” Bishop said. “First off, that’d be mighty stupid of you to do. What you’ve got right now won’t be enough to draw his attention. Hell, even if you had that Knight of Lust, and maybe the Crossroads lich, that still wouldn’t have drawn his attention. Those are dime a dozen down here. You need something truly unique, someone truly special—and I take it you have someone in mind.”
“Yeah,” Bishop nodded. “Yeah, I think we do. We’re getting someone transferred over as we speak. You just need to finish the trade, and come up with a story about how he ended up in your possession. I’m thinking, assassination gone wrong—a second attempt.”
Wei regarded the trespasser operative for a moment longer, wondering what kind of scheme he was being drawn into. “It’s the best way to do things,” William continued. “This way, we have two angles of entry. Once Gold Mask receives this item, he’ll be heading towards a private tour with the Collectress as well. I’ll be able to emerge out from him during this time without him noticing.”
To this, the young master found himself doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve done this many, many times,” his father said, his voice low. “This is who I am—who I really am. This is my trade: slipping in and cutting people down from the back.”
Father and son held each other’s gaze for a moment longer, and Wei was the first to look away now. His stomach still churned with disgust and horror. His entire life, this man—his entire life—he had never really known him.
“So it is, then,” Wei said finally. “What else? What else do we need aside from this?”
Aside from this, I gotta warn you about an actual assassin. I’ve been catching whispers—messages and trades going through the grapevine. The Court of Envy isn’t too pleased with what happened in the Bloodgames a few days ago. Someone very, very important just lost one of their countesses, and someone lost a lot of Sins doing some unwise bidding. So while you’re here, you might want to keep an eye out and, uh, avoid any suspicious individuals.
“And the Inheritors—the Unfallen—have they made any of their movements?”
Bishop’s lips pressed together as he replied, “Still working on that. You leave the inheritors to me. If they’re gonna make a move, I’m gonna try to see if they’re coming. No more fuck-ups like last time.” He went out of breath.
“All right. Then, if this is done, might I—”
Before the young master could finish, William’s words cut through his sentence. “I’m going with you. I want to get to know your team. Get some kind of understanding about your group. If we’re working together, I want to know what we got.”
The young master almost shut his father down, even trying to tuck him back into his inventory to keep him silent. “No,” the shell said firmly. “Our hatred is justified, but we must use him—every bit of him that we can. Do not waste this.”
“Fine,” Wei said, his tone resolute. “Let us get to know each other properly this time, father.”
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