Logan dragged the unconscious receptionist into a nearby utility closet and propped her against the wall.

He checked her pulse, making sure it remained steady. She’d wake up with a pounding headache and a story no one would believe.

Then he was moving again, slipping through the darkened corridor like smoke, his black attire dissolving into the shadows with unnerving ease.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Two more guards rounded the corner ahead, their flashlights slicing through the gloom in sharp white beams. Logan flattened himself against the wall, breath controlled.

Instead of engaging directly, his gaze flicked upward toward the ceiling fixture above them. With a subtle twist of spatial telekinesis, he tore a metal panel loose.

It crashed loudly behind the guards.

Both men spun toward the sound.

Logan was already in motion.

One silent step. Then another.

He appeared behind the rear guard and drove two fingers into the nerve cluster at the base of the man’s neck. The guard crumpled instantly without a sound.

The second guard started to turn, but it was already too late.

Logan’s hand clamped over his mouth as he twisted the man’s wrist, stripping the baton away in one smooth motion.

A precise strike to the temple sent the second guard collapsing beside the first.

Logan dragged both unconscious bodies into the same closet. Three down. No alarms yet.

The maintenance stairs were narrow, dimly lit by thin emergency strips running along the walls.

Logan climbed quickly, pausing at every landing to listen.

On the third floor, he encountered his first real problem.

A checkpoint.

Two Origin Apprentice guards stood watch while a glowing detection array stretched across the hallway like a translucent web of light.

Direct passage was impossible. The array would flare like a festival lantern the moment he crossed it.

Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold coin.

Closing his eyes briefly, he engraved his current spatial coordinates into it with a thin thread of Origin Energy. The coin hummed faintly against his palm before going still.

He tossed it lightly.

The coin spun through the air in a lazy parabola, passing cleanly over the detection array. At the apex of its arc, it hung suspended for half a heartbeat exactly where Logan wanted it.

Then it shattered into glittering dust.

In the same instant, Logan vanished from where he stood and reappeared mid-air where the coin had been.

He landed soundlessly in a crouch on the opposite side of the checkpoint, heartbeat calm and steady. The guards never noticed the faint spatial ripple behind them.

’Coin Toss Technique... successful.’

The corner of his mouth lifted into the ghost of a smile.

Higher up, security became noticeably tighter.

Cameras fitted with Origin Energy lenses swept across the corridors in slow, methodical patterns. Logan used spatial telekinesis with microscopic precision, nudging a camera’s angle by barely a fraction whenever he needed to cross its path, creating fleeting blind spots invisible to the naked eye.

Twice more he used the coin.

Once to bypass a locked stairwell door from the outside.

And once to drop silently from above onto a patrolling guard, knocking the man unconscious mid-stride before he could even gasp.

The top floor was quieter.

Too quiet.

Thick carpets swallowed his footsteps whole. Ornate wooden doors lined the hallway, polished to a dark sheen, each bearing engraved plaques with titles etched into brass.

Logan moved past them until he reached the very end.

The Governor’s Private Office.

A soft golden glow leaked from beneath the double doors, and muffled voices drifted from inside.

Two elite guards stood at either side of the entrance.

These weren’t ordinary security personnel.

Their Origin Energy signatures were dense and stable, easily mid-Origin Expert rank at the very least. Enchanted weapons rested at their waists, and faint patterns of defensive arrays shimmered subtly through the fabric of their uniforms whenever the light caught them.

Logan observed them silently from the shadows of an alcove twenty meters away.

A frontal assault would be messy.

And loud.

He needed silence until the exact moment he struck.

Slowly, he pulled out another coin and began engraving his spatial coordinates into it.

He tossed it in a gentle underhand arc, guiding its trajectory with the faintest touch of telekinesis so it wouldn’t make even the slightest noise.

The coin sailed cleanly through the air, stopping exactly where he intended.

It hovered for a heartbeat.

Then shattered.

Logan appeared directly behind the left guard.

Before the man could react, Logan’s hand sealed over his mouth while his other arm locked tightly around the guard’s throat. Spatial telekinesis crushed the man’s wrist with a muted crack, preventing him from drawing his weapon.

Ten silent seconds later, the guard went limp.

The second guard turned at the faint rustle.

Only to find a black figure already lunging toward him.

Logan drove a palm strike infused with spatial compression into the man’s solar plexus, folding him instantly as the air exploded from his lungs. A second strike to the neck dropped him beside his partner.

Logan dragged both unconscious guards into the alcove and arranged them carefully against the wall.

From a distance, they might pass for resting guards.

It would buy him a few extra seconds.

Then he stood before the double doors.

The voices inside were clearer now. Two men speaking in low, grave tones.

One sounded older. Authoritative.

The governor.

The other carried the rough cadence of someone long accustomed to issuing orders from the shadows of the underworld.

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he listened closely.

At first, the voices remained muffled beneath the thick doors, but as he focused harder, carefully filtering the vibrations with spatial perception, the words finally became clear.

His eyes widened instantly.

"The left side of the city is already filled with origin crystals. We’ve been importing a massive quantity of origin crystals, but it still doesn’t seem sufficient."

The more authoritative voice replied calmly, "Continue at the current pace. There’s no need to rush. By the time we’re finished, turning this city into an SSS-rank dungeon wouldn’t be impossible."

His voice carried naked malice beneath its calmness.

Years ago, when he was younger, the upper echelons had sentenced both his brother and sister to death.

Since then, the desire for revenge had rooted itself deep inside him, festering for years without end.

Step by step, he clawed his way upward, eventually reaching his current rank after buying his way into power.

Of course, none of it would have been possible alone.

More than ten years ago, he had encountered a mysterious shadow that enhanced his Origin Path.

Originally, his Origin Path had only been D-rank.

Now, through the shadow’s interference, it had risen to B-rank.

A miraculous increase of two entire ranks.

But miracles always came with a price.

His task was simple.

Fill the entire Northern Origin City with origin crystals.

The shadow had explained that the greater the number of origin crystals buried beneath a city, the more terrifying the dungeon that would manifest once the unique enchantment activated.

And so, for years, he had gathered origin crystals in secret, burying them beneath the city under the guise of "construction."

He was certain this wasn’t limited to just one city.

If origin crystals were being buried beneath every Origin City...

Then this was no isolated scheme.

This was a grand design orchestrated by the shadow itself.

The birth of the first SSS-rank Origin Gate.