Infiltrating the Den of Vice
I returned to my hideout at the casino house, washed off my disguise, and changed into my Phantom Thief Raven outfit.
"Now I can finally breathe easy."
[Your disguised look was handsome too, but this suits you best, after all.]
"Is that so?"
Well, I much preferred being a romantic phantom thief over some middle-aged philanthropist anyway. With all my daytime tasks done, it was time to head out for some nighttime action as the thief.
As time passed and experience piled up, the process had become more systematic. What was the first step? Setting the target, of course. Deciding where to go and what to steal—that was the most crucial starting point.
This time, I didn't even need to deliberate. The item I had to steal to fulfill the copycat's request was already set. And since the Goddess's power was embedded in that very target, it was the perfect scenario.
The second step was reconnaissance and trick design. I'd thoroughly scout the target and its surroundings, then devise the perfect ploy.
"Let's head out first."
Naturally, this required on-site inspection. Being a phantom thief wasn't all glamour—stealing a single item demanded this much preparation.
[The cool weather is delightful.]
The Goddess, savoring the fresh night breeze from inside my cane, seemed utterly content.
With a flap of my cape, I soared through the sky using flight magic, zipping toward my destination at high speed. Back in the day, I'd never dreamed of wielding such advanced spells. But as I'd absorbed the power from more gems, my abilities had grown enough to make this possible now—though it still guzzled mana like crazy. Better than nothing, right?
"We're here."
I landed lightly on the rooftop and gazed ahead. Blinding lights flashed garishly, thumping bass reverberated through the air—so rowdy it reached across the street. For the dead of night, this place was absurdly lively: a massive casino.
[What's your plan?]
"Hmm..."
I couldn't just waltz in dressed like this—it'd be like announcing, "I'm Phantom Thief Raven!" Stealth infiltration was the way. Two main options: sneak in completely unseen, or disguise myself as a guest and blend naturally.
Each had its merits and drawbacks. So, for the sake of romance, I chose the latter. Posing as a patron was the classic cliché, after all. Plus, it was the perfect chance to reuse today's "Arsene Lupin" identity.
"A bit annoying to disguise again, but..."
Art always comes with suffering. I'd endure a little inconvenience for it.
"Ahem."
After finishing the makeup, I nodded approvingly at my reflection. Perfect, as always. Transformed into a middle-aged gentleman in an instant, I strode confidently toward the casino's main entrance, cane in hand.
The guards bowed politely as I approached.
"Welcome, sir."
"Thank you for the warm reception."
They hadn't detected a hint of anything off. I'd gone for an ultra-refined vibe on purpose, so visiting a high-end spot like this felt perfectly natural.
I stepped through the grand doors the guards held open, entering the casino proper.
'Whoa... insane.'
The exclamation escaped me genuinely. The place was overwhelmingly extravagant—a world brimming with opulent luxury and hedonism, like human greed splattered across every inch of space. Gilded gold dominated the decor, and patrons from all walks seemed utterly detached from the outside world.
From my brief prior research, I'd learned there were even grander spots. This one was open to anyone decently well-off—middle to upper class playground. Guards just checked dress code and ID, rarely turning folks away.
The true elite haunts, reserved for the nation's top tier, required invites or referrals. Someday, I'd infiltrate those too—whether for a heist or because I'd earned it legit.
But for now, focus on recon. Posing as a guest, I began wandering the casino floor naturally.
Then someone approached me.
"Haha. Looks like I win again."
What was a casino's core? Sure, events and entertainment drew crowds, but at heart, it was gambling. And nothing beat person-to-person games for testing luck and skill—pure gambler's paradise.
In that vein, one woman had bet big on poker to tempt fate today. And she'd lost spectacularly.
Clutching her head, she slammed her face onto the table. "Argh!! I could've won! It was just one card off this time!!"
"Haha. Sure it was. Gonna go again?"
"Ugh... I've got no chips left..."
Hers had vanished into thin air. She'd come loaded, but how had she burned through it all so fast?
The man opposite smirked with mock pity. "Hey, no money? Go home and manage your household. A gambling-addicted wife? Pathetic."
"Who're you calling 'auntie'? I'm still a fresh young lady!"
"Even worse. Who'd marry you?"
She ground her teeth but couldn't retort. If she hadn't lost, he wouldn't be mocking her.
No chips meant no more play. Normally, she'd accept defeat and leave, but tonight, regret lingered. She itched to flatten that smug nose. Just one more hand, and victory would've kissed her.
"Step aside; next game's starting."
"No stake? Then quit blocking and scram."
Others at the table glared too. With a lukewarm shrug, she stood.
Was this it? Lingering glances at the table caught the dealer's eye. He smiled kindly. "No chips? We offer small loans..."
"Eek! No thanks!"
She recoiled in horror. Casino loans were notoriously predatory—she'd pass. Better to borrow from another patron.
'...Wait, that's not a bad idea?'
Blinded by gambling fever, she deemed the absurd plan viable. With impressive initiative, she sprang into action.
"What? You're nuts?"
"Quit yapping and move."
"Go home quietly, auntie."
Responses were icy, as expected. 'Why keep calling me auntie?!' Cursing the last jerk under her breath, she prowled the floor.
Then she spotted a man fresh through the entrance. Immaculate attire, an air of refined nobility. Even his gait screamed poise and class. As a respectable doctor who'd dealt with plenty of patrons, she knew instantly: he was the moneybags she'd been hunting.
Decision made in a flash, she marched right up. He noticed her approach and watched calmly.
Up close, an subtle pressure weighed on her. Gulping, she spoke. "Hello, handsome sir. Mind if I ask your name...?"
"Sorry, try someone else."
Rejected before she could pitch, she blinked. "...Huh? How'd you know what I was gonna say...?"
"Saw you begging around when I came in."
"......"
Everyone had witnessed it? What, was he a crow? Too ridiculous; she sighed and waved him off. "Fine, whatever! If I set foot in a casino again, strike me down!"
"Lost it all, huh."
"Yeah, so what? Gonna find my money for me? You think that's easy?!"
She vented at this stranger. He watched with interest, then dropped casually, "Winning money at gambling—isn't that simple?"
"...Ha! Best joke I've heard lately. If you're so confident, give it a shot!"
Surprisingly, he nodded agreeably. "Since I'm at a casino for once, a quick game sounds fun."