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Nothing except the bustle of the city outside reached his ears instead. The fact that the stillness persisted reassured him, so he slowly opened the door and peered inside the stairway beyond it.

After descending the stairs, Erik stood in front of a different door. He could see through the openings in the door and noticed that the materials used in the corridor inside had changed from those used on the outside and in the attic. They went to planks of highly light wood, which appeared to be mahogany.

The corridor was lit thanks to some torch sconces placed in strategic locations that illuminated the walls and the floor, plus the sunlight penetrated inside through the glass windows on either side of the structure.

A heavy atmosphere was in the air like a veil of suspense permeating every corner of the hall.

Robotic guards were stationed across the whole length of the corridor; each one of them had the emblem of the unknown organization on their upper chest.

They moved in a mechanical rhythmic pattern, and the clanking of their steel bodies added a distinct metal sound to the otherwise quiet place.

Dark robes have been covering them, and hoods have hidden their faces. The only identifying characteristic was the mysterious emblem pinned to each of their brooches.

They marched back and forth along the length of the corridor, their strides perfectly timed to an invisible beat, their mechanized eyes scouring the area for any indication of an intruder.

In contrast to the watchmen stationed in the attic, these were taller and seemed more menacing.

Erik observed what he could of their metallic bodies. They were made with a metallic alloy that shimmered, and their motions revealed deadly speed and agility. That, of course, wasn\'t enough to threaten him.

In addition to that, they were periodically inspecting each door as well as the area around them.

Erik crept back and concealed himself behind the door that was just slightly cracked open while he quickly pieced together a strategy in his head.

However, even though there were only two of them, they were far more dangerous than any previous robots he faced in this fake quest.

Aside from that, he was sure that there were further foes in the other rooms—robots that were fulfilling the role the check designers had assigned to them. Their attentive patrols and periodic door checks added layers of challenge to his mission.

The doors likely held rooms where the hostage was potentially held, and it was apparent he needed to navigate this maze without alerting the swarm of mechanized sentinels if he wanted to find the hostage without arousing suspicions.

After sweeping the corridor, he quickly withdrew into the dimly lit attic and quietly locked the door behind him.

This was the beginning of his infiltration, and Erik understood that he had a risky game of stealth and method ahead of him. Erik found himself grappling with the predicament.

From a tactical standpoint, the corridor was a challenging obstacle course. The robots\' uniform patrol pattern and systematic door checks signified an impeccable level of security and vigilance. Each door was a potential jackpot, possibly sheltering the hostage he was tasked with saving.

Yet there was a twist. The biological supercomputer had already provided him with information on the specific location of the captive. He was chillingly aware of the fact that the mayor\'s daughter had been hidden behind one of the doors and that she had been hidden on the ground below. Despite this, he was required to put on a convincing act of ignorance for the benefit of the streaming audience.

He contemplated, his mind shifting through countless strategies and tactics. He could barge into each room impeccably, disposing of the robots with brute strength.

However, by employing that method, there was a possibility that the whole building would be alerted, which would put the hostage\'s safety in jeopardy and cause needless turmoil.

Aside from that, every room that he stormed into and found empty of the captive would lend credence to the notion that he lacked any experience.

Besides, each room he burst into and found devoid of the hostage would solidify his façade of ignorance. Yet an element of uncertainty hung over him. Could he surprise everyone by disabling the robots in each area without raising any suspicions? If a robot saw him looking inside, he had no choice but to destroy it if caught.

An alternate strategy darted across his mind. Disguise. If he could put on the uniforms of the security personnel, he could blend in with them and enter the rooms by pretending to conduct routine inspections. However, this scheme, like the others, was laden with dangers. If all of the robots were assigned specific jobs and one of them did something that wasn\'t supposed to be done, it might quickly raise a red flag.

His mind wandered to the fallen guards above, still wearing their uniforms. He could easily dress up as one of them, but the overwhelming risk of being discovered dissuaded him from doing so.

The fake organization running this building was far too sophisticated for a simple trick like this. Any erratic behavior or irrational action might be recognized.

Ultimately, he concluded that the best action would be to adhere to stealth. Stealth turned out to be his best friend in this quest, and he would need to use every one of his skills to get past each floor successfully.

He would play the part of the phantom infiltrator, always toeing the line between visibility and obscurity. To free the captive while maintaining his clueless appearance, he must draw from the vast reservoir of patience he had built up over the years while waiting for the right opportunity to act and complete the quest.

After collecting his thoughts, he readjusted his hold on the door handle, cast a last peek over his shoulder at the guard robots, and then got ready to begin the difficult journey of stealth. The game was far from over, and Erik was all in.

Erik pressed his hand against the door, inhaling deeply as he steeled himself. At the same time, Erik drew a deep breath to harden himself; he put his palm against the door. After that, he slowly opened the door, entering the dimly lit hallway like a ghost.

His footsteps echoed on the stone surface, representing a carefully weighted gamble.

The dim light that emanated from the many wall sconces flickered and produced an irregular dance of shadows, which provided him with some degree of cover.