My Creations Followed Me to Another World-Chapter 28: The Ascent and the Alley Drop

The air inside Hollow-7 felt different now.

The [Focus-Stew] had wiped away panic and left only cold clarity.

For once, their minds aligned. Calculating. Exact. Sharp.

Dante still felt the weight of guilt pressing under his ribs, a constant [DEBUFF: Guilt], but he forced it aside. The mission came first.

Midnight was close. Their window no larger than a breath.

Shivvy woke on her own, no tears, just a quiet resolve. She ate the last spoon of the Stew like it was a holy rite.

Hana strapped on her gear: silent-soled boots, reinforced leather plates, climbing harness.

Her fingers, the same hands that kneaded dough and turned grain into life, now wrapped around a dull iron blade.

She didn’t look like a farmer. She looked like a mother preparing for war.

"Final review," Dante whispered, tightening the mundane rope at his shoulder. "Shivvy stays centered. Hana, you secure the hatch. 47, you’re the Infiltrator and our wall."

47 nodded sharply.

[MISSION STATUS: EXECUTING]

They left Hollow-7. No one in the Hollow looked up. Professional silence swallowed them whole.

The route Corva had marked wasn’t a tunnel or thoroughfare. It was hidden behind a false stone wall in a dead storage room; a path reserved for jobs where failure wasn’t allowed.

"This is the last waypoint," Dante said, feeling the wall give under his hand. "From here, it’s straight up. There is no guards and no air."

The shaft was long, narrow, and slick with groundwater. Iron rungs protruded from the stone: relics from a forgotten era.

"47 first," Dante said. "Pure physical ascent."

47 clipped into the rope and began climbing. It was raw, honed muscle and assassin training. She moved like a spider scaling glass.

Dante followed. Hana beneath him. And Shivvy last.

The climb burned their arms and legs. Cramps threatened. Breath echoed loud in the enclosed stone shaft.

But Shivvy didn’t panic. Didn’t cry. Didn’t freeze.

Her [Intent Nullification] stripped away fear, leaving only a dull, obedient focus.

Follow the rope. Don’t slip. Don’t think.

Forty brutal minutes later, the scent of night air drifted down the shaft.

The surface.

Dante pulled himself out first, collapsing onto cold, mossy bricks.

The change hit him like a slap.

Below, there was darkness, stone, and secrets. Meanwhile above: Aethelburg that glittering draped in moonlight.

They were wedged in a narrow alley between the Lord-Regent’s golden bank and a noble’s manor. Perfume and coal smoke mixed in the air.

A crystalline Spire Ward rotated high above, shimmering threads of magic through the city.

"Against the wall," Dante whispered. "47, check the—"

Clop. Clop. Clop.

Heavy boots echoed from the alley’s mouth.

47’s visor flashed.

[Threat Detected: Patrol]

Three City Guards appeared, armor lacquered and crossbows oiled. Not Spire-level threats, but far from harmless.

One spotted the open shaft.

"Hey! What’s this—"

47 moved.

A silent blur.

She didn’t draw a mystical blade, but a thin, reinforced strangling wire.

The first guard didn’t even gasp. One quick choke, a controlled fall, and he was on the ground without a sound.

The second raised his crossbow—

CLANG!

A brick smashed into his helmet. Hana had thrown it with perfect, cold focus.

The guard staggered. 47 glided behind him and struck his neck with a single precise blow.

He dropped.

The third froze, eyes wide, crossbow shaking.

"Don’t," Dante hissed, stepping out, hands raised. "Ledger business. Sanctioned retrieval."

The bluff landed—just long enough.

47 slapped the crossbow aside and struck the guard in the temple. Out cold.

[Targets neutralized. All assets stable.]

Dante swallowed hard. "We have thirty seconds. Shivvy, stay sharp. Hana, your post."

"On it," Hana said, already dragging bodies toward the shaft. Even her movements were optimized by the Stew.

She pointed at Dante, voice razor-steady.

"Do not come back unless the mission is done. If you hear fighting, assume the alley’s compromised. Go."

He nodded, then herded Shivvy deeper down the alley.

A rusted iron door sat low in the wall: forgotten maintenance access.

47 knelt and went to work with a simple lockpick set.

Click. Click.

The door hissed open, revealing a cold stairwell into the bank’s bowels.

The city bell chimed once.

Midnight.

Dante put a steady hand on Shivvy’s back and guided her inside.

They were in.

Phase I: Complete.