Infiltration and Discovery in Sharp’s Cellar

Excellent. This way, even if discovered, I could make a swift escape, unimpeded by anyone.

Iordera first prepared for the worst-case scenario, then, clinging to the shadows, cautiously approached Sharp’s Workshop.

Grandma Sharp wasn’t always behind the counter. When customers arrived, she would rise to greet them. Occasionally, she’d move to another part of the room or take out the trash, leaving the shop briefly.

Iordera seized every fleeting opportunity, peering into the workshop from every angle.

Only a small section was visible, revealing merely displayed clothing fabrics and a few simple household items.

However, for a workshop, there was no sign of workbenches, stored raw materials, or even where she slept.

The suspected bulk food supplies mentioned in the intelligence report were, naturally, nowhere to be found.

It seemed there must be a larger secret room or a cellar within.

Iordera found herself in a predicament; if this were the case, how could she enter without knowing the mechanism?

Throughout the entire night, Iordera searched for any information regarding a secret room or cellar, yet found nothing. It wasn’t until dawn that Grandma Sharp closed her shop and headed towards the tram station.

The sun was gentle, the weather fair, and she appeared just like any ordinary old woman, rising early to take the tram to the market for groceries.

Iordera followed, small and inconspicuous, especially since she didn’t need a ticket for daytime travel, making her difficult to notice.

Grandma Sharp visited the market, and just as the client had described, she browsed several food stalls, placing orders at each.

Iordera melted into the crowd of other shoppers, staying close, pretending to be a little girl accompanying her grandmother on a grocery run.

She overheard everything clearly: Grandma Sharp’s food purchases were pre-ordered, and she had even prepaid for delivery, requesting they be brought to the workshop around dusk that afternoon.

After her shopping was complete, Grandma Sharp boarded the tram and returned home to rest.

Iordera did not follow this time, remaining rooted as she pondered.

‘Surely, if she’s buying things, or rather, getting takeout, they’ll be packaged, right?’

‘And for how many servings she bought, the bags or boxes would have to be quite large.’

‘At least bigger than an action figure box!’

Suddenly, an idea sparked within Iordera.

She hurried home, found a secluded spot to dissipate heat, then quickly took a nap. Upon waking in the afternoon, she rushed back to the market.

Remembering the stalls where orders had been placed, she chose a food type with a density similar to her own, then stealthily slipped inside.

There, she waited patiently for the shop assistant to pack Grandma Sharp’s order into a box.

Once the box was prepared, the assistant departed. Iordera seized the opportunity, removed the contents, hid them in various corners of the back kitchen, and then squeezed herself inside.

It was a familiar routine, executed with practiced ease. Iordera couldn’t help but think that Hecate might have been right; perhaps she truly was born for this.

A delightful aroma wafted from the box, a rich, sweet scent of rice, likely from thick glutinous rice cakes. Having shrunk herself to her smallest possible size, Iordera found a piece pressed perfectly against her lips.

She took a bite, a soft, yielding crunch.

‘Hmm, the taste is quite good indeed.’

Some time later, other staff members arrived, sealed the boxes, and handed them over to the delivery personnel.

With a series of gentle bumps and jostles, Iordera was on her way.

The air was a mix of chill and warmth, vibrant colors seemed to materialize. It was the cusp of day and night when several boxes of food, ordered earlier, arrived at the entrance of Grandma Sharp’s workshop.

“Hello, these are the items you purchased…”

“I know,” Grandma Sharp interrupted impatiently. “Just put them down.”

“…Alright, please sign here.”

After the delivery was signed for, Grandma Sharp carried the boxes into the shop one by one, closed the door, and then transported them elsewhere.

Through the up-and-down jostling, Iordera confirmed she had entered the cellar beneath the workshop.

She remained motionless, her eyes still closed, maintaining a low-power state as she subtly surveyed her surroundings with energy detection.

The vicinity was utterly dark, with only the faint, multi-level energy signature of Grandma Sharp moving about. After setting down all the boxes, she returned upstairs to the counter, preparing to open for business.

Only after Grandma Sharp had closed the cellar door and settled behind the counter upstairs did Iordera slowly open her eyes, beginning her cautious preparations to emerge.

She didn’t know the full extent of the cellar, but it was clearly spacious, surely holding more than just food.

Once she emerged, she would observe her surroundings for any secrets, then hide again. The next morning, when Grandma Sharp left for groceries, she would simply breach the cellar door and make her escape.

Iordera harbored no concerns about breaking through the cellar door. Even if Grandma Sharp possessed some astonishing secret, acquiring incredibly sturdy materials, their strength would, at most, be comparable to a few dozen levels.

‘My ability reduces armor by 30%, and with the Natural Order’s 50% defense ignore, which stacks linearly, any door is nothing more than paper.’

To act with deliberation, completing the mission with minimal conflict and cost, while also deciding whether to report any discovered secrets—

—it was truly a flawless operation.

Iordera silently praised her own clever little mind, then began flexing her wrists, preparing to open the food box.

Thump.

A dull thud echoed from above. Iordera’s lips instantly tightened, and her heart skipped a beat.

‘It sounds as if something has settled on my head… no, rather, on top of the box.’

A hand reached into a gap in the box, fumbling with the seal, seemingly attempting to open it. Iordera felt the movement above her, her heart quickening with each beat.

‘Damn it, I almost forgot. My energy detection only registers individuals with energy fluctuations; ordinary people without a level are invisible to it.’

‘Because I only saw Grandma Sharp’s energy signature, I subconsciously assumed she was the only one here.’

‘Clearly, there’s someone else in the cellar! Or some other creature!’

In the darkness, Iordera blinked forcefully.

‘Calm down,’ she thought, ‘If they don’t even have an energy signature, it means they have no combat ability. There’s absolutely nothing to fear.’

‘“It” is struggling to open the box, perhaps wondering what delicious treats it will reveal.’

‘Canned peaches? Boiled fish balls? Glutinous rice cakes? A brand new AWP Dragon Lore? An AK-47 Fire Serpent? A Butterfly Knife Sapphire?’

‘The correct answer is glutinous rice cakes! And a life-sized action figure!’

Iordera’s mind flitted through these random thoughts, striving to keep her nerves steady.

The newcomer on the box was clearly clumsy, taking a considerable amount of effort to locate the seal’s tear strip before finally ripping it open with force.

Here it comes!

Iordera limbered her cramped limbs, softening the joints throughout her body to allow for an immediate return to an active posture.

With a rustle, the box opened.