The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

At midnight, the entire White Rose Palace was enveloped in tranquility.

Morian leaned back in the wooden chair in the room for a short rest, closing his eyes and lowering his head, trying to rejuvenate himself without falling into a deep sleep.

While this low-quality sleep pattern is torturous, at least you don't have to worry about missing out on opportunities.

He was waiting patiently, waiting for the entire palace to lower some of its daytime guard and reveal the hidden workings of the palace.

The White Rose Palace, which usually houses hundreds or even thousands of people, was completely silent at this moment. No matter how strict the security was, there would inevitably be moments of relaxation in the dead of night.

Time passed slowly, and when I opened my eyes again and looked at the clock on the wall, the hands had already reached two in the morning.

it's time.

Loosening his arms from his chest, Morian walked to the round table in the center of the room, using the faint moonlight streaming in from the window.

Instead of using the kerosene lamp provided in the room, which would have illuminated the surroundings, he rubbed a few sparks between his fingertips and lit a candle.

Soon the candle burned, and the top began to melt and drip, the dim light illuminating parts of the room and casting dark shadows on the walls.

The light provided by the candle was limited, but sufficient.

Morian checked briefly to make sure the light wouldn't be too noticeable in the middle of the night, then crouched down and let his fingers touch the cold floor.

At the same time, "domestication" is activated.

A gray mouse emerged from the shadows and lay down at my feet.

The gray rat seemed more agile than ordinary rats, its black eyes gleaming with a faint intelligence as it looked up at him expectantly.

"Perfect opportunity to test a deeper level of manipulation," Morian murmured, then quickly walked back to the bedside and sat down to ensure his body posture wouldn't be affected.

As he gradually established a sensory connection with the gray rat, he quickly shifted from the human's perspective to the gray rat's low perspective.

The already spacious room now seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance.

Morian blinked, getting used to the feeling, and then manipulated the gray mouse to run around the room a few times, just to get some exercise.

Before I could even run around much, the dizziness from the camera angle switching started right away.

"I, a mouse, really can't take this anymore..." he muttered to himself.

Feelings of discomfort are unavoidable, but the advantage is that gray rats are relatively small and easy to hide in, and their movements are fluid and their escape speed is not slow.

After getting familiar with the situation for a short while, Morian manipulated the gray rat's body to slip out through a pre-prepared crack in the door and into the dark red carpeted corridor outside.

He recalled the route he had taken that morning, and guided the gray rats to move along the shadows of the wall edges, avoiding the heavily guarded areas.

The White Rose Palace is guarded 24 hours a day, with three shifts of guards rotating daily, and at least two soldiers guarding each entrance and exit.

It was obviously impossible to force your way through. Even if it were just a harmless mouse, the guards would not let it pass and would likely kill it on the spot.

Therefore, they need to take advantage of their small size and find another shortcut.

The gray mouse crossed the corridor and came to the courtyard it had passed by last time. Its tiny paws moved so slowly that it made almost no sound.

The White Rose Palace at night presents a completely different scene from the daytime; under the cool moonlight, most things gleam with a pure white glow.

Morian looked around and found a gap in the ventilation grille, so he squeezed through it without hesitation.

Inside was a narrow passage, only about thirty centimeters high. After walking a short distance, several forks in the road appeared before us.

Having identified a relatively well-lit passage, he immediately steered the gray rat toward the exit.

Suddenly, the view opened up before me.

All around were countless piles of miscellaneous items, and the air was filled with the smell of old fabric.

We've arrived at the storage room? Morian frowned slightly, though it was just a gray rat's frown.

Without lingering, he quickly moved among the cleaning tools and crawled into the next pipe.

The pipes were a complex network of connections, with exits leading to all sorts of places, and not far around the corner ahead, one could hear extremely faint human voices.

Morian immediately stopped the gray rat and focused all his attention on his keen hearing.

The sound wasn't footsteps or the sound of tidying up, but rather the sound of deliberately suppressed conversation.

"...Someone is talking?" Morian asked in surprise.

But it's unlikely that the guards made the sound so late, as the soldiers on duty usually have strict rules.

Out of caution, he decided to proceed along the intersection from which the conversation was coming to see what those people were discussing.

A faint light shone from the end of the passage ahead, and it seemed that the sound was coming from there.

The gray mouse slowly poked its head out.

The passageway led to what appeared to be a dimly lit collection room... or perhaps a bedroom? The room was mostly filled with neatly arranged books, as well as vases with beautifully carved patterns.

The two men sat facing each other on a sofa some distance from the door, their postures relaxed and comfortable.

Morian recognized their clothing from afar through the eyes of the gray rats.

That wasn't the attire of an ordinary servant, but rather the exclusive uniform of Prince Raymond's personal guard. He had noted this detail during their brief encounter this morning.

I didn't have high expectations, but I stumbled upon the right place by accident?

...Morrion focused his mind and manipulated the gray rat to quietly approach the two, trying to hear the content of their conversation.

It crept along the wall, then passed under several tables and chairs, hiding in one of the potted plants—a spot where it could hear conversations but was difficult to spot.

The two men speaking were middle-aged. One of them, a blond man, had a sparse beard and his eyes were narrowed to slits. The other man, a thin man, had a distinct mark on his face.

Suddenly, the thin man spoke, his tone tinged with impatience:

"How long is this damn job going to last? I can't wait any longer; I'm going to grab my paycheck and go on a gambling spree at the casino."

Upon hearing this, the blond man opposite him chuckled softly, his tone restrained, and said sarcastically:

"Save your breath, Ashford. I heard from the people at the bar that you almost got beaten to death at the casino last time, and the debt collectors are coming to your door."

"Ha, so you'll be a bodyguard for life, Braun," the man called Ashford retorted without any politeness.

"There are plenty of people who have lost everything at the casino but eventually made it back with a little money. It was just that I wasn't lucky last time. Sooner or later, Lady Luck will smile on this sincere believer."

"A devout believer who only prays when he has a need?" Brian scoffed, picking up the cup and gulping it down.

The smell of alcohol reached the tiny nose of the gray squirrel, causing it to twitch.