Assassination Attempt

It was a few hours after midnight. 

The mansion was silent. Only the distant hum of the town's night life could be heard. And the soft lapping of waves against the docks in the harbor. 

Spark Nighthawk was fast asleep. Laying in a comfortable bed. One that was set up in the room adjacent to his main bedroom. 

He hadn't occupied his main bedroom in weeks. But he kept it looking lived-in. 

Regulated breath came out of Spark's nose. It was the Primal Foundation breathing patterns. He had continuously trained it. So much that it became very natural even during sleep.

Despite the cold night where many would be covered in blankets, his upper body was naked. A small, intricate necklace rested against his sternum. 

It was not just a common accessories or memento. It was an [Alarm Necklace]. A rune artifact created painstakingly from extremely expensive materials. And very complicated rune array.

And now... Suddenly, a sharp jab of warning pulsed from the necklace. It didn't make a sound. But a mental intrusion pierced his mind. Cold and urgent. Incoming danger. Hostile intent.

Spark's eyes snapped open. He was instantly alert. He went from zero to fully aware in less than a second. He swung his huge legs out of bed. Landing silently despite his size. 

Beside the sturdy wooden table, two objects were placed. The [Appraisal Goggles]. And a gas mask. A simple, practical piece of gear. 

He snatched them up. Securing the glass mask over his nose and mouth with practiced ease. The air inside was cool and filtered.

His gaze went to the large wardrobe. The one secretly connecting this room to the main bedroom. It wasn't just a wardrobe. It was a disguised passage. A key element in his layered defenses. 

He pulled open its heavy doors. And stepped inside the tight, dark space. Behind the hanging clothes, a solid panel slid open smoothly at his touch. Revealing just enough space to see the main bedroom on the other side.

He wasn't dense. He knew this day was coming. Turning eighteen meant the shield of the underage law had dissolved. 

His family's remaining blood relations would definitely take action. Those vultures who had circled for years, would see his inheritance ripe for the taking. 

He just hadn't expected them to move this fast. Impatience could be a weapon. Or a fatal flaw. In this case, for them, would be the latter. 

He had been preparing for six years. As they had been waiting.

The [Alarm Necklace] continued its low-level thrum of alert. His modification made the range detection very wide. Hostile intent within ten kilometers range would trigger it. 

That meant whoever it was would still need time to reach this place. Either way, they were getting closer. 

His carefully placed outer perimeter alarms hadn't tripped yet. Which meant the threat wasn't brute force. Or a large group crashing through the property lines. It was something subtle. Infiltration. Perfect.

He waited patiently. Watching the main bedroom from the gap in the wardrobe panel. The room was much larger compared to the one where he slept. Furnished to look like his personal sanctuary. 

The bed was rumpled. A figure-shaped mound under the blankets. A rune-enhanced mannequin. Weighted and heated to mimic a sleeping body. It was the kind of detail few would think to check. Until it was too late.

Time crawled. The necklace's thrumming intensified slightly. Then, he saw it. Not through the door. Not through the window itself. But seeping through the tiny, almost invisible gaps around the window frame. 

A silvery mist. Ethereal and silent. It poured into the room like vapor from a leaking gas pipe. It drifted. Coalesced. And finally solidified. Swirling into a distinct form.

A woman. Beautiful. With long, flowing black hair. Her body was sin tempting. Clad in black outfit focused on efficiency and ease of movement. Clinging just enough to be distracting.

She moved with unsettling grace. Utterly silent. Drifting towards the bed. Her lips sharpening into a predatory smile. As she came close the blanketed form. It was a look of cold, professional satisfaction. 

She reached the air. And a wicked-looking dagger solidified in her hand. Out of nowhere. The dark metal of the dagger was pulsing with faint energy.

"Sorry." She murmured. In a low, delightful whisper that didn't give any sign of 'sorry' attitude. "But business is business."

She raised the dagger. Plunging it down with lethal intent towards the 'sleeping' figure.

The moment the dagger tip pierced the blanket, the air in the room shattered. Not with sound. But with series of cascading magical force.

Multiple rune arrays appeared. They were etched into the walls, ceiling, and floor. With staggering expense and complexity. They flared to life almost simultaneously.

First, a wave of pure energy washed over the room. It was a mass 'Dispel Magic'. It wasn't visible things. But a magical current designed to rip apart any magic. Ongoing spells. Enchantments. Or magical buffs. 

The mist around the assassin flickered violently and disappeared. Struggling against the nullifying force. And failing to resist.

Simultaneously... The air grew heavy. Solidifying the very fabric of space. A 'Spatial Lock' came on line. Clamping down on the room. Making teleportation, blinking, or any dimensional travel impossible. 

The assassin's planned escape route was severed. Before she even considered activating it.

And then... Ghostly energy appeared from the floor, walls, and ceiling. Shimmering, translucent tendrils erupted. They were the 'Spectral Chains'. 

They lashed out with impossible speed. Wrapping around the assassin's limbs, torso, and neck. Binding her tightly. 

Her struggles were immediate. Ferocious. But the chains held fast.

Almost at the same time... A wave of absolute silence descended. The 'Silencing Array' was activated. Muffling any sound within the room to complete stillness. 

The assassin's muffled gasps, the scraping of the spectral chains... All were swallowed by the oppressive quietness.

Then... A fine, glittering powder erupted from hidden vents all over the room. 'Sleeping Powder Burst'. 

The air was filled with the magical particles. Designed to incapacitate sentient beings through inhalation. Spark, behind his gas mask, remained unaffected.

Finally, a powerful, invisible shockwave struck. 'Paralysis Wave'. It hit everything living in the room. Locking muscles. Numbing nerves. 

The assassin's frantic struggles faltered. Her body went rigid. Then slacked as she crumpled. It was held aloft by the Spectral Chains for a moment. Before they lowered her to the floor.

Spark watched it all unfold from the wardrobe gap. A faint sigh escaped his lips. Still covered by his gas mask. 

Spark again sighed. The cost. The sheer, ridiculous cost of that single sequence of activations. Massive application of Dispel Light, Spatial Lock, Spectral Chains... These weren't cheap parlor tricks. 

They required intricate master-level runecraft. Rare materials. And significant energy consumption. 

He had just blown enough money to buy a decent trading ship. Or perhaps to construct a respectable house. All to catch one assassin.

But she wasn't just one assassin. She was an expert infiltrator. Clearly highly skilled. Given how she bypassed his outer defenses. 

Capturing her alive, intact, was worth the price. Information was power. And a captured assassin could be a goldmine. 

He pulled out his [Appraisal Goggles] and equipped them. They were forged with spiritual objects. And inscribed with runes that basically hacked into the mysterious Universal Spirit Realm. Thus, they could pull specific data on individuals or objects.

He focused the goggles on the crumpled figure on the floor. Information immediately overlaid his vision, shimmering with ethereal energy.

[Name: Jasmine River]

[Alias: Lady Mist]

[Faction: Blood Circles]

[Class: Technomancer]

[Level: Fortified (3rd Tier)]

Spark's casual, confident, demeanor dropped. It was replaced by a cold, calculating focus. Blood Circles. It was that damned group. That changed things. 

The people from the Blood Circles weren't just common assassins. They belonged to a shadowy, notorious cult-like organization. They were known for their ruthlessness, skill, and fanatical loyalty. 

And she was in Fortified stage. A 3rd Tier practitioner. Two tiers above him. This was quite far beyond trivial.

Interrogating her directly in the room was risky. Even when she was paralyzed and bound. Blood Circles agents were often equipped with self-destruct mechanisms. And deadly suicidal poisons. 

They were also trained in deep-seated mental blocks. That would make traditional questioning fruitless and dangerous. The risk of her somehow escaping, or activating something that would kill them both, was unacceptable.

Killing her was the safe option. It was the most pragmatic choice given his trust issues. And knowledge of her faction. A quick end. And then, he could burn the body. Erasing all traces. 

But... she was a 3rd Tier Technomancer. A rare and valuable asset for his current situation. And a Technomancer was not that common. Especially the one with such infiltration ability. Killing her would be a waste.

He had another option. A little riskier than killing her. And not truly ethical. But infinitely more rewarding if it worked. It was time to test his long sealed creation. The forbidden grimoire. The Slave Grimoire.