Beauty's Burden and the First Heist
My daily life changed in two ways after inheriting the Rogue Master's Legacy.
One was that I no longer headed out to dungeons beyond the Great Wall. With a month to pull off a theft that would change someone's life, I didn't have time to blindly scour dungeons anymore.
"Marcus already footed the bill for you."
The other was that the guild's solo nobodies started hitting on me left and right. I shot Marcus an incredulous look, and the bastard winked back at me. With his eyepatch, it looked like he was just squeezing both eyes shut.
"You moronic simp. You think I'm gonna sleep with you just 'cause you bought me a few drinks?"
"No impure motives here. I just wanted to impress our guild's top ace."
Marcus waved off my accusation. As if.
"Bullshit."
Their courtship tactics were all over the map. Guys trying to join my table out of nowhere. Sweethearts secretly covering my tab. Persistent pests begging to be my apprentice. And challengers who wanted to be rivals, picking fights daily.
"A beauty like her? Even I'd be down if she swung that way."
Among them was some karmic baggage of mine: Rebecca, the guild receptionist who doubled as the tavern girl. For the past year, every time I came in, I'd slam down at a table and yell, "Bring on the booze and broads!" Then when she'd come serve, I'd grope her ass. She'd always glare at me like I was trash, and I'd get a kick out of the adventurer roleplay.
But now that my face had changed, suddenly hearing "maybe" was a problem. What I wanted was the act, not actual flirting.
"No, sorry. That was all just a joke."
"Some relationships start with jokes, y'know?"
"Seriously, my bad!"
That day, I had to bolt from the guild to escape Rebecca's clutches—she showed up to serve and started slyly groping me at my table.
"Was there always a stunner like that in our city?"
"What kinda backstory brings a girl like her to a dump like this?"
"I wanna protect her."
It wasn't just the guild. Stares drilled into me constantly—on the market streets, passing gates, anytime, anywhere.
Thieves are supposed to be invisible, right? How the hell am I supposed to steal when I'm this damn noticeable?
That Rogue Master guy—total perv after all.
I'm taking the hard road when there's an easy one.
I'd loved my routine over the past year: storming dungeons, hollering for booze and girls back at the guild, squeezing Rebecca's ass. To keep that life, I needed a theft foolproof enough not to get caught. But it was getting tricky, and reality was hitting hard.
Why not just rob some powerless citizen blind? Nah. "Changing a life" through theft? That screams ruining it.
So, target a real villain instead.
Blackfall's mayor. The scum who faked disappearances using the north's lax law enforcement, then sold people into the underworld slave trade. Steal his ledger and toss it to the Northern Grand Duke. He'd handle the rest.
Plan meticulously, execute boldly.
I spent two weeks prepping. Then, it was go time for my first heist.
"Off to scout another dungeon."
"Stay safe!"
"Wanna party up? I'll take 1 to your 9!"
"Need a mage?"
Announce a dungeon run and leave the guild, and suddenly the guys who treated me like a lame dog were cheering or begging to tag along.
I flashed my official Gold Tier adventurer card to the Great Wall guards, exited via the normal route north, and established my alibi.
Rogue Master, my ass. No thieving skills whatsoever.
Inheriting the Rogue Master's Legacy got me killer looks and explosive physical stats. My body could handle mana decently before; now remodeled, a single leap felt like a rocket launch.
How far did I go with one step? This is faster than a car, right?
Barefoot, I felt like a speed demon. Sprinting at ten times normal speed, I put distance from the wall, then veered horizontally toward Blackfall.
I headed for a sector guarded by magic tools instead of people. The Great Wall was too long, troops always short, so regulars leaned on magitech.
Not as handy as Earth's CCTV. Just blared alarms and flares if monsters neared.
I shattered one from afar with a dagger toss.
Sorry for weakening the north's defenses!
Worth the practice.
A miss would've meant another long sprint if the alarm tripped. Nailed it first try. A thief's gotta hurl daggers right.
If it'd given me magitech null or Stealth, no sweat.
First quest—clear it, get some rogue skills, yeah?
Over the wall unseen, straight to Blackfall. Two weeks' prep meant I knew the mayor's mansion spot.
But blueprints or ledger locations? Nah, too traceable.
Improvise on the fly.
Hell, I could storm the front door and slice every neck inside.
It'd work out.
Life doesn't go to plan, though.
Rummaging the mansion's underground secret room, I ran into someone unexpected.
Amelia?
A girl. The commoner who'd become a villainess later.
This world's male lead: emperor, swordmaster. Heroine: saintess. And heroines get obstructing villains.
Enter Amelia, merchant queen at young age. Less rival to the saintess, more world-burning psycho, massive evil org boss. Pretends to love the emperor, but her backstory: sold into slavery young, suffered horrors.
That's how it connected?
Blackfall mayor executed by the Northern Grand Duke. Amelia abused as slave.
At least no cheap perfume stink.
The dungeon smelled of an unwashed girl's musky scent. Better than floral fakeness.
That'd have soured my mood.
Taking the kid? Big baggage.
Extracting her was easy. But after?
Genre shift to childcare? Weird.
"Tch."
I'd steal the slave trade proof, chuck it to the duke. Storybook end: mayor executed.
But the kid? Released quietly? Or killed to erase evidence?
Smart enough to be a future magnate! She'd be useful anywhere!
I tucked the girl under my arm.
Then came the nail-biting escape.
Main worry: squeezing too hard and popping her like a balloon.
Unsteady water balloon vibes.
Mansion takedown? Cakewalk. Not swordmaster level, but no pushover.
This thieving?
Knocking out every guard I met? Questionable.
But no witnesses? Assassination proverb says it's thievery if unseen.
Deep in the underground dungeon, I snagged the secret ledger. Hidden, sure.
But who am I? Pro tomb raider—er, treasure hunter. Sick of dungeons.
One mayor's basement maze? Child's play.
You have stolen an item capable of changing someone's life.
Quest cleared the instant I nabbed the ledger, case unsolved. No sudden death penalty now.
Wanna stuff the kid in my inventory!
Original plan: lob the ledger vaguely to the duke, dungeon-hop for months, return to guild. North forgets fast.
But with baggage? No dice.
Ledger to duke ASAP. But the kid?
Novel skimped on Blackfall details. Mayor gets executed by duke later, so duke trustworthy? That's it.
Can't infiltrate duke's castle with a kid.
Ditch her, problem solved.
Why'd we cross paths!
Invisible, no issue.
"Hey, kid. Wanna live?"
"……."
No answer. Just scared.
"I'm your savior, so live for me forever?"
Quest done. Huge favor to future magnate. Best outcome.
Yeah. Head home. Dump her on the marquessate, raise her elite merchant-style.
Year runaway, but blood's blood. It'll work.
Route shifted: imperial west.
But scaling Blackfall's walls...
A ridiculously fast, strong pursuer locked on.
Why you here?
Northern Grand Duke. Swordmaster like the emperor.
This gonna be a beatdown?