Chapter 67: How to Uncover a Massive Corruption Scheme by Accident (1)
The hallway ahead was far too long for my taste, with doors spaced in an uncomfortably symmetrical way—like the architecture itself was watching us. The echo of our footsteps—or rather, my footsteps, since Thalia could barely carry her own weight—reverberated against the walls paneled with wood darkened by time. At every fork, I did my best not to pick the wrong path, but the truth was that most of it was instinct mixed with a generous dose of suicidal luck.
There were no alarms. No shouts behind us. But I knew it was only a matter of time. Once they found the unconscious body of the assassin in the isolation ward, the reaction would come fast. And loud.
The first room we passed was a storage for blankets and splints. I dumped Thalia in there for a second, left the door half open, and checked the nearest window to scan the inner courtyard.
A little garden. Walled off. No direct exit. I went back, picked Thalia up, and we kept going.
She was puffing against my shoulder like each breath cost her a confession. Still weak, her body kept swaying between trying to help and just collapsing fully onto me. I didn’t complain. I’ve carried rocks with more attitude.
We turned into a side corridor. Weak magical lights, barely flickering. Maybe a maintenance hallway. It smelled like dried herbs and rust.
In the distance, I heard arguing—two, maybe three staff members. Still unaware of what had happened, but beginning to feel something was wrong. I slipped into the nearest room, filled with flasks and tubes. Maybe a runic lab.
I hid Thalia behind the counter and locked the door halfway—just enough to pretend we’d always been there if someone walked in.
She protested. Her voice was weak, but sharp.
"You can’t keep carrying me like this. I’m not a sack of potatoes."