Morning arrived, the early sunlight straining to peek through the cracks of the window frame. Before I fully woke up, my instincts forced me alert. I scrambled to make sure the heavy curtains were pulled completely tight, blocking out the sun, and double-checked that the heavy wooden door was still securely locked.
I looked down at myself and realized with a start that I had been sleeping with my massive crimson blood-wings fully exposed all night. Luckily, no one had peeked in. My canvas cloak, leather purse, and the heavy Death Chant Shotgun were all resting safely right where I left them on the wooden table.
Feeling ready to tackle the day, I shambled out of bed and shook off the lingering exhaustion. I folded my wings back into my spine with a familiar, fluid motion and threw my cloak over my shoulders, buttoning it up tightly to hide my frame. I unrolled the map of Lulu City on the exact same table next to my shotgun, leaning over the parchment to begin my tactical planning.
To pull off an infiltration of this scale, I first needed to master the layout of Lulu City itself.
According to the map's precise geographical index, the entire oceanside metropolis spans a total area of 45 square kilometers, neatly divided into three distinct zones, each measuring exactly 15 square kilometers:
The Pier District, the massive coastal zone dedicated entirely to deep-water shipping, naval travel, and the international transport docks leading to neighboring continents. This is where the prison transport vessels likely depart.
The Merchant District, the bustling economic heart of the city, a standard feature for any major hub, packed to the brim with markets, trade stalls, and warehouses.
The Residential District, the sprawling living sector for the local citizens.
Just as Keith Pat had proudly boasted at the gates, the map confirmed there were absolutely no slums in this city. It was a highly clean, tightly regulated territory with an incredibly low crime rate.
If I wanted to slip into the Dodorant Citadel unnoticed, sneaking in as a commoner or a prisoner was too risky; the magic-dampening, strength-depleting chains would strip away my vampiric powers instantly if I was caught. I needed to disguise myself as the powerhouse itself: the guards.
However, as I studied the fine-print logistics and footnotes on the Citadel's blueprints, I hit a major snag in that plan. The guards stationed at the fortress didn't commute from Lulu City. They were completely self-sufficient. The map details indicated that the guards lived permanently on the 7-square-kilometer island, sleeping in dedicated military dorms and even growing their own food supply within the prison perimeters to avoid outside contamination or bribery.
This meant I couldn't just ambush a guard on a day off in Lulu City and steal their face. If a random guard suddenly showed up on a transport ship from the mainland without a tracking log, the whole fortress would go on high alert. I needed a different way in, either by finding a high-ranking official who actually had clearance to travel between the Pier District and the island, or by utilizing the city's strict "zero-tolerance" policy to my advantage.
I leaned over the map, chewing on my lip as the harsh reality of the situation set in. Sneaking in as a high-ranking guard or a visiting official was out of the question. My shapeshifting ability is flawless when it comes to copying flesh, skin, and voice, but it doesn't grant me the target's memories or mind. If I strolled into a tight-knit, self-sufficient military fortress acting like a commander but didn't know the proper protocols, the guard schedules, or even where the latrines were, they would sniff me out instantly.
For a second, frustration gripped me. But then, a dangerous, brilliant spark of an idea slipped into my mind.
If I couldn't go as a captor, I had to go as the captive. I needed to blend in as a criminal, get arrested right here in Lulu City, and let their own zero-tolerance judicial system transport me straight into the heart of the Dodorant Citadel.
But doing this in my true form was a one-way ticket to a morgue. If the guards or bounty hunters in the city recognized my scarred face, my missing eye, or my severed arm, they wouldn't quietly lock me up. They would execute me on the spot to claim the massive S-rank bounty on my head and parade my corpse through the streets. That was a definitive no.
I sat back, mentally scrolling through my genetic archive, the library of DNA I had accumulated from people I had touched or killed.
My mind briefly landed on Oksana, the Lotus Dust Queen. Thanks to our fatal encounter, I had the ability to perfectly mimic her face and body. But I quickly shook my head, discarding the thought. Oksana was dead. I had taken her head clean off, delivered it to the LKBA myself, and her execution had already been blasted across the front pages of every major newspaper in Caria City. If "Oksana" suddenly popped up alive and kicking in Lulu City trying to get arrested, the authorities wouldn't just think she miraculously survived, they would immediately realize a shapeshifter or a high-tier illusionist was playing a game. The entire region would go on a maximum security lockdown, completely ruining my chances.
I couldn't be a guard, I couldn't be myself, and I couldn't be a dead S-rank drug lord.
I needed a fresh face. A completely different criminal. Someone active, believable, and just dangerous enough to warrant an immediate, one-way trip to the Dodorant Citadel without getting executed on sight. I needed to go out into the Merchant or Pier Districts of Lulu City and find a suitable target to copy someone whose identity I could borrow to punch my ticket into that island prison.
I quickly pulled out my personal "registry of the condemned"... a collection of lower-tier bounty flyers and active criminal logs I kept on hand. My strategy was clear: find a low-level target currently operating right here in Lulu City, locate them, copy their DNA, and shapeshift into them. They needed to be ranked lower than a B-tier threat so the guards wouldn't try to execute them on sight, but just disruptive enough to trigger Lulu City's harsh zero-tolerance laws and get shipped straight to the island.
As I flipped through the crumpled parchments, my fingers stopped on a recent notice.
Bounty Notice: Keane Leon
Threat Level: D-Rank
Bounty: 10 Silver Coins
Offenses: Repetitive pickpocketing and petty theft in Caria City. Recent intelligence places him fleeing justice and currently operating out of Lulu City.
Perfect. Keane Leon was exactly the ghost I needed to become. A D-rank pickpocketer with a measly 10-silver bounty wouldn't turn the heads of any high-tier hunters, and the local knights wouldn't waste their breath trying to execute him. But based on what the gatekeeper Keith Pat had told me last night, a petty thief like Keane caught lifting wallets in this strict city would be handed a one-way ticket straight across the Mirage Sea to the Dodorant Citadel.
Now, I just had to track down the real Keane Leon somewhere in the crowded streets, secure a physical sample to lock his genetic profile into my archive, and take his place.
I rolled up the map, grabbed my leather purse, and securely fastened my heavy canvas cloak around my shoulders. I left the Death Chant Shotgun hidden safely beneath the floorboards of Room 201, I certainly couldn't get arrested with an illegal, high-tier firearm if I wanted to play the part of a harmless petty thief.
Stepping out of the Golden Shrimp Inn and into the bright morning bustle of the Merchant District, my hunt for Keane Leon began.