The White Fox Mimic's Request
The White Fox Mimic's request was simple. Just bring him one flower. To fulfill it, I grabbed a trowel and a flowerpot before heading out to search. This flower only grew deep in untouched forests far from human reach. And it could only be found under incredibly specific conditions. It normally looked like the most ordinary weed, revealing its true form only on full moon nights. Moonflower. Because of these traits, Moonflower could only be found when the moon was full. That was why the Mimic had so readily agreed when I proposed paying him later.
And in the original story, the protagonist went through tremendous trials to obtain it simply because he didn't know this fact.
[What will you do if you don't find it?]
"I'll just keep searching until I do."
Missing today meant sucking my thumb for the next thirty days. Naturally, I couldn't strike another deal with the Mimic without settling my debt, which would disrupt my phantom thief activities. I scoured every inch of the surroundings, hunting for the Moonflower.
How much time passed like that? Finally, I spotted it.
"Found it!"
A shy silver bud peeking out from beneath a massive oak tree. It exuded a subtle, modest beauty that seemed to illuminate the area around it. That was the Moonflower. It fit perfectly into this fantasy world—a mysterious bloom in every way. Beyond its stunning appearance, one irreplaceable trait was that it ranked among the finest medicinal herbs.
Its effects were so cheat-like that you didn't even need to process it—just brew the petals and drink, and it eased pain or boosted regeneration. Of course, it couldn't cure truly severe illnesses or wounds. Something like that would require legendary elixir-level power.
[Now what will you do?]
"Now that I've found it, I'll take it with me."
Careful not to damage the flower, I dug up the surrounding soil in one go and transplanted it into the pot. Even like this, it would wilt once the full moon set. To keep the potted Moonflower blooming, it needed the light of a moonstone. The Mimic would handle that. My job was just to bring the Moonflower, after all. What came next was his business, not mine.
"Time to head back."
[It ended more easily than expected. How fortunate.]
"Yeah, tell me about it."
The moment I cradled the pot carefully and turned to leave the forest, the bushes behind me rustled. Someone—or something—was there. I didn't think much of it at first, but I raised my guard just in case.
The tense standoff lasted a moment before the other side finally emerged. I blinked, staring blankly for a second before speaking.
"It's a fox."
[So it is.]
It was a tiny fox kit. Not the usual red fur people picture, but a snow-white one—a white fox. Blink, blink. A fluffy bundle with bright blue eyes blinking up at me. Adorable. I wanted to take it home and raise it.
The urge surged up, but I shook my head and let it go. Its parents were probably nearby. Even if I took it, I doubted I could care for it properly.
[Hmm. That child is surely...]
"What's up?"
[No, it's nothing.]
What was that? Sounded meaningful, then nothing. I figured I'd just enjoyed a cute fox sighting and started to leave, but then I noticed a slight wound on its front leg. The pure white fur made it stand out. A bit of blood had crusted into a red mark, but it didn't look serious. Maybe it got scratched playing? Or caught in some thorns.
I looked down at it for a moment, then carefully plucked one Moonflower petal.
[Is that alright? Using the flower you're being paid with?]
"It's just one petal. No big deal."
I crouched down and called to the fox.
"Come here, Snowball."
[What a terribly uncreative name.]
This goddess has no idea. Simple names are cuter for pets. Fur's snow-white, so Snowball. How intuitive and adorable. It seemed to understand I was calling it, cautiously approaching as I beckoned. For a wild animal, it wasn't very scared of humans. Or maybe it was smart enough to sense I meant no harm.
Up close, it really was pretty. Not like a common street critter, but with an air of mystical divinity. Close enough to touch if I reached out. Gently, I took its front leg and rubbed the petal on the wound.
"......"
Doesn't it hurt? Come to think of it, it hadn't made a sound the whole time. Fox cries were supposed to be rare. Would it bark like a dog? After rubbing for about ten seconds and pulling away, the wound was completely healed. Moonflower lived up to the hype. I nodded in satisfaction, impressed by its power.
Now it was really time to go. Its parents must be worried sick now that the kit was alone. I gave its head a final pat as farewell.
"Live well and eat plenty, Snowball."
It just gazed up at me with those enigmatic eyes, showing no other reaction.
"Oh. You actually brought it."
"A deal's a deal."
The Mimic eyed the Moonflower I'd brought with clear satisfaction. I'd thought this before, but even with his face completely wrapped in bandages, I could somehow read his expression. Despite only his eyes being visible.
"Did you use one of the petals, though?"
"I tested its condition and performance."
"Hmm. One petal shouldn't be an issue. Thanks anyway."
His senses were eerily sharp. Spotting a single missing petal instantly. Impressive.
"Need anything else?"
"No, this is plenty."
The Mimic's reason for collecting Moonflowers was never revealed in the original story. But one thing was certain: he had gathered far more than one or two already. What could an artist of forgeries possibly want with them?
"Well then, petty phantom thief. I look forward to our next dealings."
"Drop the 'petty' part."
I wrapped up the trade smoothly and left the Mimic's underground lair.
[Will you call it a night here?]
It was already late. I'd sold the painting at the Witch's shop, gathered Moonflower in the forest, and stopped by the Mimic's hideout. That was plenty. Still, if I was going to wrap up, I wanted to do it right.
"I'm thinking about where to donate the money from the sale."
This was always the dilemma. The sums were too huge to hand out recklessly, so I had to choose carefully. Plus, donating to the same place repeatedly might raise suspicions, so I needed multiple options. Managing it all alone was overwhelming.
[What about the orphanage from last time?]
"Eh, not consecutive, so maybe it's fine. But do we have to go there again?"
[It looked like they needed quite a lot of money last time.]
True enough. The orphanage was in such dire straits that my previous donation might not even cover it all.
"Should I swing by and check it out?"
[That would be best.]
We settled on that and headed to the orphanage I'd donated to before to see how things were. At least from my thorough investigation, the director was an extremely honest person. I trusted she wouldn't embezzle my donation or divert it for personal gain.
So why...?
The orphanage looked exactly the same as before.
"......"
Honestly, it hit me hard. Enough to make me question all my activities so far. I'd lived as a phantom thief chasing romance and ideals, secretly hoping to make the world a better place. That's why I brushed off the public's condemnations calling me a vile thief without a care. I didn't see myself that way. My actions were driven by a conviction to help those in need.
But contrary to my hopes, nothing had changed here. Why? Had the director really pocketed the money?
The mystery cleared up faster than expected. Two men entered the orphanage, their attire boldly proclaiming their profession. Britannia Treasury Department, National Tax Service. In other words, government tax collectors. Why would they visit such a rundown place in person?
The children trembled at the strangers' arrival, while the director greeted them calmly. I slipped inside through the ceiling to eavesdrop on their conversation from the rafters. And that's when I understood everything.
"Hey, old man. You don't have any hidden cash stashed away, do you?"
"...Of course not. I've already given you everything..."
"Pull any funny business, and it's straight to jail. You sure you're not in league with that phantom thief bastard!?"
"No, please believe me, sir."
Ah. So that's how it was. Maybe I'd been too naive. Things like this don't resolve so easily.
[What will you do now, my child?]
The Goddess's sweet voice roused my mind. What would I do? It was simple.
"I'll take it all back."