I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Yassin scratched his head, turned around, and left.

From this moment on, Richard was George Randolph.

He bent down, picked up a box, and walked into the museum from the unloading area.

The corridor was dark, and the movers could only use a special passage and did not pass through the exhibition hall.

Richard moved the goods along the passageway to the outer edge of the underground warehouse.

There is an iron gate at the end of the outer corridor.

Behind the iron gate lies the actual warehouse area.

Just like in a real museum, you need permission to enter through that door, and the porters stopped there.

A whiteboard was nailed to the wall next to the iron gate.

The duty roster and inspection times were written in chalk on the whiteboard.

Richard wrote down every single word of this information.

He's not in a hurry.

The next step is to change from a porter to a cataloger, who will then have access to the middle-level corridors and the archives.

He became a cataloger, and then a senior assistant who could enter the warehouse to retrieve files.

The assistant was then replaced by a guard standing in front of the iron gate.

Three shells for three layers of permissions.

With Yassin and George, that makes five, and none of them are wasted.

The third shell: cataloger Harold.

He's overweight, gets breathless when walking, and has access to the archives.

The replacement happened at the corner of the corridor, when Harold passed by Richard carrying a stack of files.

A glance exchanged, the exchange completed in the blink of an eye.

The fourth shell is Simon, a senior assistant; he's thin and wears glasses.

They have higher privileges and can access the outer perimeter of the warehouse to retrieve files.

The replacement occurred at the turn of the stairs.

Simon brushed past Harold as he went downstairs.

Harold touched the back of his head at the top of the stairs and continued walking.

After using up all four shells, Richard could feel an extra thread in the net on the other side of the curtain with each replacement.

Meanwhile, towards the port, the mummy was forced back step by step by the two experts working together, and most of the indigo mirror-like seawater had already shattered.

As long as they don't die, that's fine.

As long as the two experts continue to exert their power on it, the city's sensing network cannot operate at full capacity.

He was prepared to use this as his last chance to deal with the guards standing in front of the warehouse's iron gate.

Richard's "mirror" swept across the area, revealing a guard named Donald, a professional-level hunter carrying an enchanted pistol.

Replacing professionals is completely different from replacing ordinary people.

Ordinary people don't have etheric loops, so if you walk in, they won't even notice.

Those in the industry have loopholes, and those loopholes are in operation.

The moment you slip inside, the other person's circuitry will recognize that something is wrong.

The loop will automatically reject any errors.

Even if it cannot be resisted, the etheric fluctuations emanating from Donald will still be transmitted.

Richard pretended to put the file back on the shelf, then turned and walked a few steps into the depths of the corridor.

He pondered the question over and over in his mind.

If forcing it through won't work, then we need to suppress Donald's loopholes first.

The most direct way to suppress the loop is that he has a silencing spell.

With the added benefit of expert knowledge, even if only a wisp of a shadow is revealed this time, a minor expert can easily kill it, let alone a professional.

The problem is that silencing requires the use of ether.

In the face of a room full of security personnel, immediately refusing to speak is tantamount to suicide.

Richard went through the list of informants on the papyrus again.

I've already used the first two.

Ruhe, a barge sailor, was out of reach of the harbor.

There are a few more names below.

His gaze lingered on the fourth one.

Abdul Hamid, Museum Logistics Department.

Every day, Abdul would push an old tin cart to deliver tea and sandwiches to the people on duty in various parts of the building.

Among the fixed targets is the guard on duty in front of the iron gate.

They come every one to two hours, and the guards are used to this routine.

Richard stroked the short beard on his chin.

The mark on Abdul can be triggered and create etheric interference.

Richard walked a few steps back towards the logistics department along the route he had come from.

At the intersection of the corridor and the logistics passage, he encountered the short, stout, brown-skinned man.

Abdul smiled ingratiatingly when he saw Simon.

"Mr. Simon, are you working overtime tonight?"

"Hmm." Richard mimicked Simon's mumbled speech: "What's the situation outside?"

"Who knows?" Abdul glanced into the pot.

"The tea is almost gone, I need to go back and brew another pot."

Donald is still waiting to drink; he drinks three jugs a night, more than my camel can drink.”

"Is Donald on night duty tonight?"

Abdul's tone carried a hint of schadenfreude.

"Security has been raised by one level these past two days, and Donald has been on two consecutive night shifts."

After working two consecutive night shifts, Richard silently memorized this message.

"Give him an extra pot," Richard casually remarked.

"An extra pot?" Abdul chuckled twice.

"Why is Mr. Simon suddenly showing concern for Donald today? You two usually don't even bother to greet each other when you meet."

"It's chaotic outside." Richard gestured with his chin toward the window.

"The people in the building work hard; it's just a cup of hot tea."

Abdul nodded repeatedly.

"You're right, everyone had a tough time tonight."

In just a few words, without changing the shell, the marker was already in a semi-activated state.

Abdul turned and strode quickly toward Donald.

Richard followed slowly behind, mentally counting.

He counted as he walked.

When he reached the middle of the corridor, he pretended to look down at the files in his hand.

The creaking of the cart faded into the distance.

Donald lifted his eyelids.

"Abdul."

"Mr. Donald," the short, stout man's voice was as warm as ever.

"It's quite noisy outside tonight, have some more to perk you up."

"No need to call me sir." Donald's lips twitched slightly, probably the closest he came to a smile all night.

He straightened up from the wall and took the enamel mug.

Abdul parked the cart two steps away from Donald.

Richard finished counting at this moment, and the marker was activated!

The sensation was even more subtle than a spider's web brushing against the skin.

Donald held up his glass, lowered his head to smell it, and frowned.

"Did you change the tea leaves today?"

"I didn't change it," Abdul said innocently.

"The taste is different."

"The copper kettle wasn't cleaned properly, so it has a slightly off-flavor."

Donald snorted in disgust, but still took a swig.

He stood there for a long time, and the dryness in his throat desperately needed to be extinguished with hot tea.

Richard walked back from the middle of the corridor toward the iron gate.

He walked over to the cart.

Abdul was still telling the stories he had heard about warships, speaking with great enthusiasm.

Donald held a cup, with a mouthful of hot tea in his mouth.

A violent tremor came from the direction of the distant port, almost making him spit out the tea in his mouth.

The mummy leaped out of the water once again, creating a huge shockwave in the port area.

The shockwave swept through the entire city, creating a brief period of noise within the monitoring network.

The noise lasted for less than a second.

Abdul was startled by the tremor, and the lid of the kettle slipped off his hand with a clatter.

"Oh dear." He bent down to pick it up.

Donald's gaze instinctively shifted slightly towards Abdul.

That slight deviation made Richard act.

The shadow broke free from Simon's shell and entered Donald's body.

The guard froze, instinctively reaching for his gun.

However, under the interference field of the marker activation, although the rejection reaction occurs, it is half a beat slower than the normal reaction.

In that short span of time, the "mirror" had already revealed the entire course of the other person's path.

In that short time, Donald took his hand off the gun handle.

Abdul straightened up, wiped the lid of the pot, and put it back on the pot.

He looked up at Donald.

The guard was still standing there, holding a cup in his left hand and his right hand hanging at his waist, in the exact same posture as before.

"Mr. Donald, would you like some more?"

"I'm not drinking anymore." Richard put the teacup back on the cart.

Abdul gave an "oh" and pushed the creaking metal cart back the way he came.

At the other end of the corridor, Simon was standing next to the filing cabinet.

He blinked twice, his face blank.

He couldn't remember why he was standing there.

"...Have all the files been retrieved?" he muttered to himself.

Five shells, all used up.

Richard took out the key from his waist inside Donald's body.

The door opened, and the outer edge of the warehouse was dimly lit. Rows of numbered wooden crates were placed on the shelves.

Richard walked a few steps along the shelf, his steps very light.

Donald's boots had rubber soles, so they made almost no sound when he stepped on the ground.

He began scanning the wooden crates with a "mirror".

The first one is a stone slab with an inscription, representing the weakest form of ether.

The second one is a gilded mask, of medium ether quality, which is suppressed by the research seal of the Empire.

The third one... Richard's eyes lit up; the main event was about to begin.

The wooden box contained painted canopic jars, with a jackal's head on the lid.

These are items that were enshrined in the ancestral temple in Heituhe thousands of years ago.

In terms of closeness, it was closer to these old objects than to anyone in the empire.

Richard began reading them one by one.

A gilded mask, a stone tablet, the base of a sacred scepter, and a complete painted wooden coffin.

The coffin lid was painted with the goddess Isis with outstretched wings. Most of the paint had faded, but the outstretched wings still emitted a faint glow in the ethereal realm.

When he read the seventh item, he touched an even more ancient seal.

The seal added by the Empire is the outermost layer; he doesn't need to remove it.

But beneath the imperial seal lies an even earlier and stronger seal.

Richard carefully scanned it with his "mirror," and the seal began to display a warning in the language of the Black Earth River:

"Whoever takes this thing will have their bones crushed in the sand."

Anti-tomb raiding curse.

Richard skimmed through the structure of the curse.

These curses were gifts left to tomb robbers by the priests who buried the deceased.

The Holy Scepter will turn against those who try to take it, the Canopy Jar will curse those who open it, and the Sphinx will devour those who touch it.

He noted these down and continued on his way.

By the ninth item, the etheric texture was completely different from the curse on the previous few items.

The curse was written by a priest; it was ancient, fierce, and righteous.

This one is relatively new.

Its etheric characteristics bear the dual imprint of the solar tradition and the hearth fire tradition.

Richard realized it instantly.

This was a trap that had been waiting for it all along; the two experts had set up the second deadly move in the warehouse.

He abruptly stopped in front of the fuse and slowly withdrew his senses.

Just a little bit more...

If it weren't for the anti-tomb-robbing curses on the previous old items that had put him on his guard, the fuse would have gone off.

Extremely fine silver lines appeared on the stone floor.

Richard crouched down and very lightly touched the nearest silver thread with the "mirror".

The etheric information that came back sent a chill down his spine.

The architect transformed the space deep inside the warehouse, behind the curtain, into an urn.

The urn narrows inwards.

It's easy to get in, but hard to get out.

Richard stood in front of the silver wire net for a long time.

The port was just an appetizer; the real traps lay at every turn.

Moreover, the people of Heituhe have a natural disadvantage here: they cannot destroy their own things.

However, the two defensive experts did not have this concern.

The empire has collected countless rare artifacts over the years, so smashing a few wouldn't matter.

One was restrained, while the two fought freely.

Li realized that the Black Soil River expert in the original timeline had likely failed at this very step.

Thinking of this, he stopped walking.

Richard pulled the "mirror" to its longest setting and peered into the deepest part, where a few old objects lay.

From the tenth to the thirteenth item, there was only that ancient anti-tomb-robbing curse.

He tried to use a "mirror" to read the true name of the tenth old item.

The moment the "mirror" touched the outer layer of the curse, the curse exploded.

"Whoever takes this will perish in the river!"

The anti-tomb-robbing curses on these strange objects are all interconnected.

The first time he touched it, a warning popped up; this time, he's really going to do it!