I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The two beams of light from the harbor simultaneously pressed down on him.

This time, the two experts did not try again.

Golden rays cleaved down from the horizon, illuminating half the sea.

The fire surged in from the direction of the port and burned outwards along the sea.

Two forces, one in front and one behind, converged on the ship from both sides.

The mummy stands at the bow of the ship, arms outstretched, facing the sun.

The indigo mirror-like seawater beneath its feet surged and rushed towards the direction of the golden light.

The core of the "mirror": you reflect me, and I reflect you.

Part of the golden light was deflected by the mirror and shone onto the sun traditionalist himself.

The golden light emanating from the sun expert rippled slightly.

The fire reached the bottom of the boat.

Smoke began to rise from the deck beneath the mummy's feet.

Richard used the "name" to read the direction of the fire.

He can't read the whole picture of the line, but he can read the end.

He made a mark on the end and engraved a interference symbol.

The fire in the stove tied a knot at its tip.

It doesn't sever the fire, but it does force even the most experienced woodworkers to spend a few seconds untying the knot.

That's all he can do on the open front: hold them off at all costs.

On the other side of the hidden line, Shadow received the signal.

The golden light and furnace fires in the city were all drawn towards the port, creating a gap in the city's sensory network.

A shadow emerged from a branch of the underground sewer.

It climbed out of the drain and sped along the shadow of a narrow alley.

There were people in the alley; several sailors who had just come down from the dock were looking for a tavern in the narrow alley.

One of them was wearing a Levantine merchant ship uniform and had only been ashore for less than half an hour; he still smelled of the sea.

The shadow climbed up from the soles of his feet.

The mirror revealed everything about him.

His name was Yassin, he was twenty-seven years old, a Levantine, and a deckhand on the three-masted sailing ship "Silver Gull".

Upon entering the port, they had already passed the first round of scanning by the golden light; they were clean and ordinary people.

replace!

The shadow entered Yassin's body.

This replacement is completely different from the first one.

The shadow clone climbed in himself, fitting in perfectly from the inside out, just like putting on clothes.

The clothes were completely covered, with no gap between the shadow and Yasin's shell.

Even if the golden light returned to scan again, it would only reveal an ordinary Levantine sailor.

Yassin, or rather Richard, rubbed his eyes, pretended to be drunk, and staggered out of the narrow alley.

A series of booming sounds came from the direction of the port.

That was the sound of the mummy and the two experts fighting on the sea.

What ordinary people can hear is a sound like muffled thunder.

The sky outside the harbor was a riot of colors, a mixture of indigo, gold, and crimson.

Half the city was rushing towards the port to see what was happening, and no one noticed a Levantine sailor walking in the opposite direction.

The hidden stakes came into play at this point.

Mohammed Fahd, a third-class clerk at the Customs Service.

This person arrives at his post at seven o'clock every morning and stamps documents in the south-facing office on the second floor of the customs building.

Verify the tax invoices for imported goods, affixing the necessary stamps and signatures.

Muhammad himself was completely unaware that he was a mole.

Eleven years ago, he was offered a cup of coffee by a middle-aged businessman in a café in Alexandria.

There was nothing in that cup of coffee; it was just coffee.

But during the twenty minutes that the middle-aged businessman chatted with him, he made a subtle mark on his etheric plane.

Such a stroke cannot be detected by either the expert or the less experienced.

Even the most knowledgeable and expert people need to look closely to spot the anomaly.

Richard, posing as Yassin, walked outside the customs building without replacing Mohammed.

While replacing a customs clerk would grant them access to the port area, the customs clerk's activities would be limited to the docks and tax building.

There's a large part of the city between the tax office and the museum.

What he needed Muhammad to do was something else entirely.

Yassin walked to the side door of the customs building and knocked on the window.

Muhammad raised his head.

"Sir, my tax form has the wrong stamp."

Assin, speaking in Albion with a Levantine accent, handed a crumpled piece of paper through the window.

Muhammad took it and glanced at it.

There was indeed a crooked stamp on that piece of paper.

"This needs to be repaired. Come with me."

Muhammad led Yassin through a side door into the tax building, through a long corridor on the first floor, and out the back door.

The back door leads to an alleyway in the dock storage area, and at the end of that alleyway is the starting point of the museum's logistics passageway.

Muhammad had no idea what he was doing.

He habitually led Yassin along the shortcut he took to and from get off work every day, perfectly avoiding the traps and scams along the way.

Muhammad stopped at the fork in the alley at the end and handed the stamped tax bill back to Yassin.

"Okay, I'll be more careful next time."

"Thank you, sir."

Richard stood at the entrance to the museum's back-of-house corridor.

The second hidden stake is inside the passage.

Said, the night shift guard at the port's western warehouse, was temporarily reassigned today to help move goods at the museum's unloading dock.

There was an incident at the port, so the museum increased security. When they were short-staffed, they brought in a few people from the warehouse.

Said also had markings on his body.

Seven years ago, it was shallower than Muhammad's.

Richard ran into Said at the unloading point; Said was squatting on the steps smoking.

"Sir, what's happening over there?" Yassin gestured towards the port.

Sayed exhaled a smoke ring: "Who knows... Some say it was an accidental firing of a warship, others say it was an exercise."

In just one sentence, Richard deduced the entire route of the museum's logistics corridor from Said.

Which door uses which key, what time do the corridor shifts change, and where are the Ethernet monitoring lines located?

This information originally required replacing it layer by layer and penetrating it level by level to gather together.

Now, he has gathered the two hidden agents.

Richard chatted casually for a couple more minutes, then got up and walked into the museum.

On the other side of the main line, the mummy is still desperately stalling for time.

The Black Earth River merchant ship, flying the tattered vulture flag, disintegrated under the combined attack of two forces.

The sailors suffered an undeserved calamity, burned to the point of becoming smoking skeletons.

The mummy had no time to care about these ordinary people; it stood on the broken keel, its feet touching the seawater.

The mirror-like seawater beneath it supports it, preventing it from sinking.

The golden light approached to within a hundred yards.

The beam of light stretched from the sky to the sea surface, completely enveloping this small area of ​​the ocean.

The furnace fire flared up from the other side, and the heat wave transformed into a slowly advancing wall of magma.

Caught in a pincer movement, with nowhere left to retreat.

Richard manipulated the mummy to make a decision.

It won't retreat.

The entire mummy shattered the mirror-like seawater beneath its feet and plunged into the ocean.

Golden light pierced the sea surface, penetrating three meters into the water, leaving only a murky green below.

The golden light does not shine on the water; this is clearly stated on the papyrus.

The sun's traditional power shines on the sky and the ground, but under the control of the Black Soil River Master, the golden light cannot penetrate the sea.

Try pouring water into the stove.

However, seawater naturally weakens its ability to conduct heat.

The seawater churned, and puffs of white mist rose from it.

The mummy sank dozens of meters underwater, suspended in the darkness.

Mummies don't need to breathe, they only need ether.

Although the concentration of ether diffused in the water is low, it is sufficient to prevent it from dispersing.

The two experts waited on the sea for about fifteen minutes.

Richard sensed a change in the two orbs of light.

The golden light began to recede towards the port, and the furnace fire also retreated.

They weren't going to waste any more time with a mummy hiding underwater.

As long as the container doesn't enter the city, it doesn't pose a deadly threat to them.

Instead of struggling with a rock that's sunk to the bottom of the sea, we should focus our efforts on reinforcing the city's defenses.

But Richard couldn't let them take them back.

Once they were withdrawn, the city's sensory network was re-established.

The replacement of Yasin will be exposed immediately.

The mummy leaped from the water.

A burst of indigo light erupted from beneath the sea surface, sending waves several meters high into the air.

The mummy stands on the crest of a wave.

It lunged at the merchant ships that were unloading cargo at the harbor.

The stance was extremely clear: the intention was to cause disruption.

It raised its hand, and the shadows of all the ships on the sea curved toward it.

The sailors on deck watched in horror as their shadows twisted and distorted beneath their feet, and some began to scream.

The two experts had no choice but to turn back.

The fire at the estuary formed a barrier, separating the mummy from the merchant ships.

Knowing when to stop, the mummy plunged back into the water before the golden light and the furnace fire merged together.

The waves crashed a few times on the surface of the sea, but nothing was left behind.

The two experts had to maintain the protective netting above the port, waiting for it to pop up again.

Over the next period of time, Richard had the mummy swim horizontally underwater, diving from the east end of the anchorage to the west end.

Then it leaped out of the water again, making a gesture as if it were about to rush into the inner harbor from the west side of the port.

The two experts were then led over.

This guerrilla tactic was repeated more than a dozen times over the next two hours.

The two experts learned their lesson and simply laid out a trigger-based attack field on the sea surface.

The mummy will be attacked as soon as it surfaces.

Meanwhile, Richard, posing as Yassin, had already arrived near the museum.

The roar from the direction of the port grew louder and louder.

Ordinary people have begun to panic.

The tax collector closed the iron gate of the tax office, and a team of uniformed security personnel ran past on the street with sirens blaring.

Chaos is good.

In the chaos, no one noticed him slipping into the alleyway opposite the museum.

The guards on the steps in front of the gate were drawn to the commotion in the direction of the port.

The old man reading the newspaper in the gatehouse put it down and walked outside.

Richard needs to replace someone who can legally enter and exit the museum.

Yassin's face only allowed him to walk on the street.

The museum's logistics corridor has a fixed set of faces; a Levantine sailor who walks in will be immediately stopped.

But his budget for shells is very tight.

Each time someone is replaced, a mark is left on the other side of the curtain.

The traces will automatically connect to each other.

Richard silently compared them in his mind.

"Use people as anchors and link real names of living people online."

This technique is exactly the same as what the Echo Society did.

When there are many lines, they form a network.

The internet is vast... it's about what happened in the North End of Briston over the past twelve years.

He stood inside Yassin's body for a while.

Don't be greedy when it comes to replacements.

Including Yassin, there can be a maximum of five replacements.

If there are more than five, the traces are too numerous and too dense.

Even though those two experts were busy dealing with the mummy, they could still read about the anomaly by following the internet.

There are five shells. Yasin is the first one. He has four chances left.

I don't know if four shells will be enough to get from the street to the warehouse.

Richard circled around to the museum's unloading area.

There were three porters unloading boxes at the unloading point.

The commotion at the port made them restless, and they were distracted while working.

Richard's gaze fell on the porter on the far left.

Old age, rough hands.

Silent Mirror activation: George Randolph, forty-two years old.

This porter can enter the outer corridor of the museum's first floor and underground warehouse, but has no further access.

Richard waited until George finished unloading the last box and came out of the unloading area to stretch.

He walked over to George: "What's going on over there? Is there a war?"

George looked up at him.

That one glance was enough to replace it.

The shadow emerged from Yasin's shell and entered George's shell.

Yassin suddenly froze at the unloading point, as if he had just woken up from a deep dream.

He glanced at the unlit cigarette in his hand, then at George.

George smiled at him:

"What are you thinking, young man? Hurry back to your ship, it's in chaos outside."