The Last Phantom Thief
Silk top hat, three-piece suit, and a mask. The Ancestor Spirit in the form of a middle-aged man gripped a sword cane with poltergeist force, aiming it at me.
"Xavier Belmont."
As I murmured his name, a smile flickered across the lips visible beneath the mask.
<...So you knew who I was.>
Xavier's voice was far clearer than the one I'd heard during the aptitude test—almost tangible. Thanks to my Friend of Wandering Souls trait, not a single word from a powerful Ancestor Spirit like him escaped me.
"Who else wanders around in an outfit like that besides a circus magician? You're famous, y'know."
I added that jab, and Xavier let out a self-deprecating chuckle. In the world of Ancestor Lord Bowhasa, this man's notoriety—or infamy—was global.
The plunderer without footprints. The last Liang Shang Junzi. Those were the names for this stubborn devotee of old-school picaresque romance.
The reason a character homage to the fictional Arsène Lupin existed here was simple. He was a cameo from Gentlemen's League Chronicles, the stealth action game that was Mobius Corp's predecessor to Ancestor Lord Bowhasa.
<You don't seem like much of a fan. So what business do you have summoning me?>
"Why does a Shangju meet an Ancestor Spirit? Obvious, right?"
<Bit bold facing an armed opponent, aren't you?>
"I know you never killed anyone."
"...I trust your pride won't let you."
Xavier laughed and slid the blade back into the cane.
<Smarter than you look. I shouldn't have judged by that frivolous appearance. My apologies.>
Damn, this blond delinquent mask of mine was a perfect aggro magnet. Irritation rose in my throat, but I held it back—no need to sour our first meeting.
<Hm.>
That's when he noticed my uniform hanging on the coat rack in the corner of the living room.
"And?"
"Not all of 'em are good guys."
Hero's Cradle was just an idealistic slogan. The game featured plenty of Argo alumni turned criminals. And even some current students...
<Haha. Realistic. But a man like me, who only redistributed wealth without truly aiding the weak, can only envy you.>
The gentleman thief who sent calling cards to exploiters of the masses, then vanished with the vault's contents. His methods, his face beneath the mask—never revealed. The worst phantom thief.
His means were criminal, worthy of criticism, but anyone who'd played Phantom Gentleman Chronicles knew he acted selflessly for the downtrodden.
To recruit him as an ally, I needed to appeal to his sense of purpose.
"Like you said, I'm a student at Argo Academy. You might not realize it, but as a powerful Ancestor Spirit with your infamous rep, I want to contract you."
I added, I've got people who need helping, and Xavier peered into my eyes with interest.
<You may not know this, but discerning fake from real is a thief's basics.>
"What're you getting at?"
<This knack works on judging people too. And what you just said... seems genuine.>
Exactly. No lies. I'd been wary of his enhanced post-mortem Lie Detection trait.
This guy had all sorts of skills beyond combat and theft. I'd seen a villain devour an Ancestor Spirit wield it in gameplay, so I'd avoided that landmine.
A reasonable question. I decided on honesty again.
"Simple—it's a rare talent. For the record, you're the first non-ancestor soul I've talked to and contracted with."
<Meaning if you pass this up, I'll stay lonely forever. No need to scare me; I get it.>
Xavier pondered, then nodded.
"Details?"
"...Something you wanted to steal."
Xavier grinned instead of answering. Figures—he wouldn't contract without strings.
Genealogy Oath. Swear to help fulfill my final wish. That's the condition. As long as you keep it, I'll stand by you to the end.>
"Demanding."
<They say the thirsty dig the well here.>
Genealogy Oath. Common sense in this world, mentioned endlessly through characters in the game. Breaking it as a Shangju curses you with your ancestor's wrath, staking your family honor.
Conditions and curses vary by spirit. Minor ones: indigestion for days or naked headspins in Gwanghwamun Square. Major: death.
For the spirit, breaking it damages their soul's dignity—huge penalty. Thus, it rivaled the reliability of a Styx oath in Greek myth. Never uttered lightly.
But no other way to recruit Xavier.
<...Swear it.>
He pressed. His condition: help him fulfill his wish. Curse for breach: unknown. As a powerful spirit, it'd be brutal.
But—
"Fine. No reason not to."
A simple raised right hand, like swearing an oath. But its effect was absolute.
"I, Kim Taeyang, swear on my genealogy to provide all aid needed for your final feat, as long as you lend me your power."
Trait, 'No Genealogy' nullifies your Genealogy Oath.
A flash of light wrapped the Soul Thread Bracelet on my wrist—proof the oath had taken hold.
<Kim Taeyang... good name. A gentleman doesn't just accept an oath and idle.>
Xavier spoke, then mirrored my pose.
genealogy to give all my power to you. Until Shangju Kim Taeyang draws his last breath.>
Threads from his spirit body connected to the bracelet.
Unexpected bonus.
Meanwhile, I smirked at the floating message. Wonder what Xavier would think knowing this oath screwed him over one-sidedly.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, I'd pretend to cooperate later. My priorities came first, but I was curious what the worst phantom thief infiltrated the academy fleet to steal. Might tie into story secrets I didn't know.
"Nice partnering with ya."
<Likewise.>
Apologizing inwardly for the delinquent trick, I marveled at the potent ancestral power flowing through my bracelet.
Deceive an opponent with the 'Lie Detection' trait (1/1)
"Hm?"
A hologram popped up before my eyes.
<Something wrong?>
"Nah, nothing."
I'd cleared a challenge with an unexpected move. Not obsessed with them, but I remembered every achievement from my playthroughs.
This trophy, though? Never saw it before.
"Weird."
Maybe challenges diverged from my past clears. Unpredictable, but all gains. Trophies usually didn't affect progress, but this one was pure upside.
Contract done—now to punish this liar.
"By the way, no need to lie around me. Sis."
I glanced at Xavier, who flinched visibly.
<What're you on about?>
"Yeah. Your real voice slipped out."
"......"
"Drop the disguise. I know everything."
After agonizing, Xavier pulled out a cape and spun on the spot.
A pop like fireworks—and the phantom thief beyond the cape transformed.
Blue eyes and delicate features blended East and West. A black bodysuit with a neck protector hugged her lithe curves.
Street-stopping beauty. But—
<G-Gale Phantom Thief Gemma has arrived!>
"Skip the entrance line."
Her tone flipped completely upon dropping the act. Yeah, this was her true self.
<Gale Phantom Thief Gemma—>
"Stop."
She was Genevieve Belmont, Xavier's only daughter. At just nineteen, she'd inherited all her father's skills—a genius. Shortened to Gemma, or Agemma mocking her occasional ditziness eclipsed by her looks. But as an Ancestor Spirit, her power surpassed her father's.
"Genevieve Belmont's initials are G.B., right? Why X? Low education or something?"
<Dad named me, not me!>
Gemma grumbled, pulling a half-mask from her bosom and donning it.
<Where'd this guy come from... Nobody but Dad knows I took over as thief. Stalker?>
"I can hear you."
She must be dying to know how. Simple: Friend of Wandering Souls read her real name and cause of death earlier. Unlike last time, full trait scan expanded the info.
Xavier Belmont's heir died from a misstep. More shocking than the five-year-old from the prequel storming into adulthood.
<Tch. Ears too damn good.>
Exposed, Gemma pouted and flopped onto the bed, pulling covers over her—a clear "don't talk to me."
"Aigoo. Letting it slide 'cause it's day one."
Historic black mark for a thief getting unmasked—blanket kicks were in order. Nice guy like me yields the bed for today. Tomorrow, straight into the bracelet.
I closed the bedroom door and crashed on the living room sofa.
* * *
Next morning, the student app notified aptitude test results. Top score in the communion exam landed me in Year 1 Class A with the key players, as planned.
<You look pleased.>
"That obvious?"
As I walked from the high-speed tram to school, Gemma chimed in.
"You seem more hyped than me."
<Psh, I'm not a kid.>
She'd disguised as her dad till now, dodging warrants, and since I'd already seen her true face, no qualms about going native. Today's look: white blouse, pink tennis skirt. Suited her one-side-up ponytail.
Ancestor Spirits couldn't normally change outfits, but Gemma's disguise mastery let her swap looks and clothes on the fly. Must be thrilled for a rare outing.
<So, how's yours?>
"Not bad. Class A gathers all the prospects. Means my skills got fair eval."
Tension outweighed excitement, but no way I'd show timidity to this brazen thief lady. Plus, my current blond tanned delinquent look demanded matching swagger.
Year 1 classrooms were in Park Myeong-gwan Building, 2nd floor. Maze-like layout could've lost newbies, but I'd roamed the 3D graphics version for 18 months—a vet.
Ignoring staff floor markers, I cut through the Year 3 hall and arrived 10 minutes early.
<Not your first day? You know all the shortcuts.>
"You don't get lost on your first infiltration either."
<Call me sis, or Mademoiselle Belmont. C'mon?>
"Too lazy, Agemma."
<What? Pop-off! I'm gonna—>
Whirr—the Class A auto-door cut her off.
"Bigger in person."
The tiered lecture hall, 1.5 stories tall, had a few early students paired up.
<In person? Snuck blueprints? Partner in crime?>
"You're the thief here."
I snapped back, and Gemma silently retreated to the bracelet. Not my words—more like she'd clocked the students staring, noting no spirits beside them.
"......"
I ignored the needle-sharp gazes and took a second-row seat. My hair and sloppy look drew unwanted glares—annoying, but too late for normalcy.
Better leverage the strong negative impression to worm into main characters' minds. I'd already stirred things at the test site.
Flip prejudice, and good vibes stick hard. Just act the model student. Low expectations from looks make flipping to favor easy.
Lost in thoughts, more students trickled in, filling seats.
"That's him. The Confucian rite test yesterday—"
Predictable. Back-row whispers.
"Heard he made an Ancestor Spirit kneel to a Shangju."
"First time ever."
...Not about me. Game protag Gong In-myeong sauntered in the back door, headphones on.
Forgot. What went down in his aptitude test. Given his lineage, an Ancestor Spirit bowing to him? Plausible.
Self-conscious much? I faceplanted into my desk, reflecting.
Yeah. Class A: elite freshmen prospects only. Embarrassing getting cocky off one lucky test score.
<Face red all sudden. Spotted a crush?>
"Shut it."
No time for self-pity. Lesson from isolated school days: map classroom power dynamics.
I scanned Gong In-myeong in the back row first. Eyes closed, jamming music—not just me watching.
Shin Sua had arrived during my Gemma chat, mobbed by hangers-on hungry for scraps, stonewalling them coldly.
Seol Romi mingled better with girls, chatting—but her glances at Gong screamed wariness.
"Haa..."
Monster-talented protag trio. Like watching Liu Bei, Cao Cao, and Sun Quan clash live.
Nice guy Gong might listen, but Shin Sua and Seol Romi? Arrogant geniuses. Unless I matched their growth, they'd ignore my advice.
"Headache incoming."
Argo brimmed with talents beyond those three. Even with Gemma, I'd need full throttle to keep up.
"Attention all!"
My worries halted as the homeroom teacher entered. High school life—class one—began anew.