Extra's Sign In System: The Hero's an Idiot!

Chapter 52: Sending Our Regards 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The air in the underground sewers of Bastion Seven was thick with the stench of stagnant water and decaying rot.

Draven and Estella dropped silently from the rusted maintenance ladder. Their blank black masks concealed their expressions, turning them into two anonymous phantoms in the dark.

"Why are we hitting them today of all days?" Estella whispered, her wooden staff already humming with a faint, deadly violet light.

"Because of the riots yesterday," Draven replied, his voice a low, mechanical hum behind the mask.

"The Hennesy Clan and the Vanguard Knights are currently turning the surface slums upside down looking for Cultists. But more importantly, the Cult itself is distracted. They are actively pulling their heavy-hitters out of the city."

"Pulling them out? Why? They have a chance to expand their influence by brainwashing the people who have lost their closed ones to Hennessey soldiers?"

"Well, it would be pretty dumb to try to convert people, whose closed ones were killed due to the Cult. I mean, would you join an org which made you lose your house? Think about it. Also, they are pulling out because they are preparing to launch the Beast Wave," Draven stated coldly.

"They need to coordinate the corrupted monsters outside the Bastion walls. That means this primary hideout is currently operating on a skeleton crew. It is completely vulnerable. And it had some valuable things stored there."

Draven tapped the side of his temple. He activated the passive skill he had acquired from a Daily Sign-in three weeks ago.

[Active Skill: Tactical Mana Radar]

A wireframe blue grid overlaid Draven’s vision. The thick concrete walls of the sewer became transparent in his mind. He instantly detected eight distinct heat signatures radiating corrupted dark mana.

"Eight targets," Draven relayed seamlessly, falling into his Commander persona.

"Three stationed in the corridor ahead. Five guarding the inner sanctum. We are not here to fight. We are here to assassinate. Do not let a single one scream. Understood?"

"Understood," Estella nodded. There was no hesitation. She did not question his lethal orders, she trusted him entirely.

Draven reached into his spatial ring and retrieved six cheap, standard-issue steel throwing knives. He didn’t even hold them. He simply dropped them into the air.

Using his Vector Manipulation, he caught the blades mid-fall, locking their kinetic potential in a suspended zero-gravity state around his shoulders.

"Move," Draven ordered.

They surged forward like shadows.

As they rounded the corner, three Cultists in tattered gray robes were standing near a makeshift iron gate. They didn’t even have time to raise their weapons.

Draven’s black eyes locked onto the targets. He didn’t throw the knives; he simply applied a massive linear acceleration vector to three of the floating blades.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The steel knives broke the sound barrier. They shot forward like bullets fired from a sniper rifle, piercing the space between the Cultists’ eyes with wet, sickening thuds.

The three men collapsed to the damp floor instantly, their brains scrambled by the sheer kinetic force before their vocal cords could even form a shout.

"Inner sanctum. Five targets. Go," Draven commanded, not even breaking his stride as he stepped over the fresh corpses.

"Understood!"

Estella moved instantly. She slid past Draven and kicked the heavy iron double doors open.

The remaining five Cultist guards inside the dimly lit storage room spun around in shock.

Estella did not give them a chance to draw their corrupted mana.

She raised her staff. Instead of a wide, flashy explosion, she compressed her Corrupted Star Magic into pinpoint, high-density beams of searing starlight.

Zzzt! Zzzt!

Two blinding violet lasers shot from the tip of her staff, cleanly burning holes straight through the hearts of the two closest guards.

A massive, brute-like Cultist raised a heavy broadsword and lunged at her from the right flank. Estella didn’t even flinch.

Draven was right behind her. He flicked his finger. The remaining three suspended knives shot forward.

Two buried themselves deep into the brute’s kneecaps, dropping him to the floor in agony, while the third severed his spinal cord at the neck.

Estella spun her staff gracefully, firing a final, concentrated beam of starlight through the skull of the last fleeing guard.

Silence descended on the room. The entire execution took less than four seconds.

Draven lowered his hands. "Clean work."

Estella gave a small, confident smile beneath her mask. "I had a good Commander."

Draven walked to the center of the room. He ignored the basic wooden crates filled with cheap weapons and low-grade potions. His eyes scanned the far wall of the sewer chamber. It looked like solid, unbroken brick.

But his Tactical Mana Radar showed a massive concentration of high-density mana hidden directly behind it.

"The Vault is hidden," Draven said, stepping up to the brick wall and running his gloved hand over the damp stone.

"There is no keyhole. No physical mechanism. It’s a solid barricade reinforced with a dense earth-elemental barrier."

"Should we look for a hidden switch?" Estella asked, stepping up beside him.

Draven scoffed.

"We don’t have time to play puzzle games with dead men’s locks."

He stepped back and pointed at the solid brick wall. He looked at Estella, knowing exactly what she was capable of.

"Melt it."

Estella’s violet eyes glowed with dangerous excitement. She gripped her staff with both hands and stepped up to the reinforced wall.

She drew deeply from her core, letting the volatile, destructive nature of her Corrupted Star Magic bubble to the surface.

She pressed the tip of her wooden staff directly against the brick.

"Burning Nova."

A terrifying hiss echoed through the chamber. The solid brick wall began to glow a blistering cherry-red, then blinding white.

The dense earth-elemental barrier didn’t just break; it completely liquefied under the sheer, concentrated heat of a dying star.

Molten slag poured down the wall, opening a perfectly circular, glowing doorway into the Cult’s hidden treasury.

Draven looked at the melting stone and smiled. It was time to get paid.