The Artist Who Makes Fakes
"Hoo..."
I let out a sigh as I hurried out the door. The Witch was just too much of a prankster. Every time I visited, it felt like all my energy got drained. Naturally, I'd turned down her offer. At least she'd dropped it without pushing too hard, which was a relief. As I'd emphasized countless times, I was a pure romantic at heart. No matter how tempting a seductive woman might be, I had no intention of giving in easily.
Anyway, I'd safely obtained the letter of introduction, so now I just needed to head to the address on the card and meet the Forger. I'd ask him to create a replica of the lighthouse painting I planned to steal. Truth be told, I already knew a fair bit about the Forger. He was a character who'd appeared in the original story, after all. But he wasn't a major player—just a shady, enigmatic guy shrouded in mystery.
I never imagined there'd be a connection between him and the Witch, though. Linking the two in my mind, I belatedly noticed how many similarities they shared. Regardless, pinpointing the Forger's exact location was a huge win. He was perfectly suited to aid my phantom thief escapades in all sorts of ways, so I had to make the most of him.
"This the place?"
I double-checked the address on the card. If it was accurate, this had to be it. Surprisingly ordinary spot. An underground spot in a row of residential houses—anyone passing by would probably dismiss it as just another dive bar and walk on without a second thought.
I descended the stairs and cautiously opened the firmly shut door. It wasn't locked, but it creaked loudly, announcing its presence with a racket. The stuffy underground air carried a chill that prickled the hairs on the back of my neck.
Something ominous in the air. He's no ordinary man. Be careful.
An unusually serious warning from the Goddess, not her typical playful tone. No doubt about it—the world as depicted in the comic and this realized reality were on completely different levels. It was almost embarrassing to compare them.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to calm down, then carefully called out.
"Anyone here?"
"A rare unfamiliar guest."
A man's flat voice echoed from inside. Turning my gaze, I spotted him under the dim lighting, seated in a chair. He stared straight at me, a blank white canvas set before him.
"Haha..."
Spooky. Exaggerating a bit, I nearly pissed myself on the spot. It wasn't just the eerie atmosphere making me jumpy. The guy's outfit was anything but normal, no matter how you sliced it. He was wrapped head to toe in bandages—so thoroughly that not a speck of bare skin showed except his eyes. Like an Egyptian mascot mummy. If not for the bowler hat and black coat, he'd have been indistinguishable from the real deal.
Even though I'd seen his appearance in the comic, the first real-life glimpse nearly knocked me out. At least I hadn't shown a big reaction outwardly—small mercies.
I forced a relaxed smile and greeted him.
"Haha. Hello. Mr. Forger."
"Quite the famous star gracing us. The world's been buzzing with tales of you lately."
"Just a fleeting breeze that stirs and fades."
"Humble to a fault, are we? Impressive."
What could I say? The words themselves were polite compliments, but his intense presence made them sound like biting sarcasm.
Shaking off the thought, I handed him the card. The front had this address; the back bore the Witch's brief introduction.
"I see. One of her clients."
"I owe her quite a bit."
"She's a fine woman, that's for sure. If only she weren't so obsessed with money."
Haha. Then why did she keep demanding weird stuff from me instead of cash?
"So, what brings the phantom thief all this way?"
"I'd like to commission you."
"Indeed. Forgery and phantom thievery are inextricably linked, after all."
His work was straightforward. True to his name, the Forger created fakes. No limits, really—as long as you supplied the right materials, he could replicate anything. The only catch: they were counterfeits.
"What would you like me to forge, phantom thief?"
"Lighthouse on Stormy Night. That's what I want."
"Ah. A mere painting poses no challenge."
He gave an instant thumbs-up upon hearing the name. Naturally, it wouldn't be free.
"How much?"
"I don't take money. Our deals are... special."
I'd half-expected that. In the original story, he'd demanded something unique from the protagonist too.
"I need certain materials. Bring them to me, and we're good. Nothing too hard."
Not too hard? As someone who'd read the original, I knew exactly what that meant. Technically true—the materials themselves were easy to obtain. But when the protagonist went hunting for them, circumstances twisted into a near-death ordeal.
"I'd prefer the painting right away. Do I have to get the materials first?"
"Hm. This time, we'll do payment on delivery. Feels like our paths will cross again beyond this."
"Haha. Much appreciated."
Perfect. That eliminated any real variables. Time was the key factor in gathering his materials, after all.
"How long until the fake's ready?"
"A day will suffice. Swing by tomorrow at your convenience."
"Got it."
Way smoother than I'd feared. Despite the overwhelming first impression, he turned out to be a surprisingly gentlemanly sort.
"See you tomorrow, then."
As I turned to leave after bidding farewell, the Forger called out.
"Hey, Mr. Phantom Thief."
"Yes? Something to say?"
"A fake that's like the real thing, or a real thing that's like a fake. Which would you choose?"
A question that rang familiar. The exact riddle he'd posed to the protagonist in the original story. Layered, the hero, had replied that if you believed it real, its true nature didn't matter.
A fitting answer for a protagonist. So, time for one that fit me.
"Does it have to be one or the other?"
"Hm?"
"Just steal both, and you've got them all."
Clearly caught off guard—he paused, bandages hiding his expression, then let out a low chuckle.
"A truly petty response."
"That's the phantom thief for you."
"True. Quite so."
He nodded, looking brighter, as if my answer pleased him.
"Safe travels, petty phantom thief."
"You can drop the adjective."
Even if he'd acknowledged it, hearing "petty" stung a little. Anyway, with that exchange done, I slipped out of the Forger's basement.
The core of the plan—the replica—was commissioned. Now, while waiting for the Forger to finish the painting, it was time to meticulously craft the trick.
Obviously, having a fake didn't mean poof—I could just steal the thing. Whether swapping it out or diverting attention, first priority was infiltrating safely and securing a route to nab the target painting.
I'd already mapped the art gallery's layout perfectly.
"Definitely simpler than the museum."
They've probably tightened security there far more than before.
No helping it. After being totally played by a mere pickpocket like me and losing their exhibit, they'd spare no effort to prevent a repeat.
Conversely, this art gallery was a private one run by an individual. Objectively, it didn't house artworks of immense value. So, a simple, lax structure and guard setup was par for the course. Of course, sending a notice letter would change that in a heartbeat.
With police scouring the city for me, the moment I sent it, they'd swarm the gallery and turn it into a fortress. Which made flawless trick design all the more crucial.
Beyond the building layout, I scoured every scrap of info even tangentially related to the gallery.
"The gallery owner seems like a real scumbag."
What will you do? Return it? Donate?
"Donation this time."
He didn't deserve the painting back. Better to give it to someone truly in need. Being a phantom thief really flew in the face of capitalism. Hell, technically, I was a criminal even before that.
Enough idle thoughts—back to the trick design. Far laxer than the museum, so plenty of exploitable gaps.
I glared at the blueprints, running mental simulations until, at last...
I'd devised the optimal route my brain could muster.
"Nice. Now just pick up the replica, send the notice, and we're set."
Quite the overconfidence.
Of course. Honestly, I was certain even the great Sherlock wouldn't crack this easily.
"Get ready. Once I hit this gallery, everyone will be stunned."