Press C to Hide Your Presence, Court Count Jimier Berolinger
Court Count Jimier Berolinger. The title "Court Count" means a count residing in the royal palace. Sometimes it even allows one to wield immense power as the king's proxy. So even though Berolinger's rank was merely a count, his influence rivaled that of any duke or marquis.
Moreover, Jimier Berolinger was an exceptional man. The moniker "old fox" had been coined by political figures who feared him. His small stature and goatee made him look unremarkable on the outside.
But everyone knew that major national affairs were decided in the master bedroom of the mansion where he resided after retiring from court. Jimier was power incarnate.
Right now, the Court Count was sipping tea while reading documents. The glasses perched precariously on his nose looked ready to slip off at any moment. He parted his lips casually.
"Did they accept our gift, that bunch over there?"
His tone was lighter than one might expect. Those meeting him for the first time were often surprised, but the man beside him was the butler who had served him his entire life. The butler replied familiarly.
"We had a new golden file cabinet custom-made and sent it over, but Headmaster Ballarnyar refused it."
Headmaster Ballarnyar was the principal of Emerald School. He was also one of the Eight Heroes—a powerful magic scholar. And he had rejected the Court Count's gift.
"Paint it white and send it back. He'll take it then."
"......Will that really work?"
Even the loyal butler couldn't nod easily. Covering gold with white paint and expecting him to accept it? Was it that simple?
"Scholars are all about saving face, so they hate it when you send them gold boxes. Ballarnyar's the same. Slap some white paint on haphazardly, and he'll accept it."
"Understood."
"Heh heh, just like that guy, isn't it? Greed stuffed inside, but he dresses it up all frugally on the outside."
"Haha, yes."
"Kid......don't force a laugh if it's not funny. You know I hate that."
The butler smiled awkwardly. No matter how you spun it, the Court Count wasn't the type with a pleasant personality. Especially not now.
"Oh, and kill all the ones I marked here."
"......Yes, understood."
When he decided who lived and who died with just a fountain pen from that corner room, the man was utterly ruthless.
"Sponsor that kid at the academy more. And as insurance, we'll slip Obern Grimoire in there too. He's coming soon, right?"
"I'll see to it."
"Has the Third Prince's enrollment been processed?"
"Yes, it will be handled shortly."
At the mention of royalty, the Court Count grinned. That smile looked particularly dangerous.
"One day~ when the red sun rises......"
Seeming in high spirits, he hummed a tune. The butler took the documents from him and organized them. Just then, a commotion erupted outside—crashing footsteps, someone running.
Sounds of people trying to stop them too. Few in this mansion could run around like that.
"Heh heh."
The Court Count was already chuckling fondly as the study door burst open.
"Grandpa!"
It was an ugly little kid who appeared. They say even a hedgehog thinks its young are beautiful, and the Court Count swept his rushing grandson into a tight hug.
"Eung? Your face is a total mess."
"Yeah, bad jerk."
"I don't get why that guy hit you. Heh heh."
His grandson's cheek was slightly swollen red. The daytime scuffle had been reported to the Court Count. But for some reason, he couldn't figure out what had happened. From what he'd heard, a servant accompanying the boy had struck him on the back of the head, and then the boy suddenly started punching himself in the face, self-harming.
"Grandpa, what'd you do to that jerk? Did you punish him?"
The Court Count had his own understanding of the situation. If the servant had really hit his grandson on the back of the head, the self-harm must have been to punish that servant—by provoking this grandfather's wrath. A clever little lie.
He had no desire to press the boy and scold him for it.
"Yeah, I punished him good."
"How? Did you kill him?"
"Just cut off his hand and sent him packing."
"Aww, boring."
And with that, the matter was settled.
"Throw out that stupid snake statue too!"
"Snake statue?"
Puzzled, he glanced at the butler, who explained.
"It's one of the recent acquisitions. Not a snake, but a wyvern taxidermy mount, procured by hunter Hairit Langrei...... It's in storage for now."
Bribes poured into Jimier Berolinger's hands every day. Those items were stored temporarily, then sent out again in his name—as reciprocal bribes, gifts of thanks, or donations.
The butler whispered so the grandson couldn't hear.
"It's on the export list...... It should be shipped out within the week."
"I see."
Then it was no concern of his. Jimier Berolinger boomed heartily.
"Alright, this old man will smash it to bits and toss it out."
"Yay, Grandpa's the best!"
It wouldn't be thrown out, of course—it'd be sold off somewhere. But seeing his grandson so happy made him feel oddly pleased.
Evolution Day 21.
I pondered what to steal.
[Rapier]
That rapier didn't look ordinary. Cyclops' One-Eyed Piercer. Just the name screamed piercing power. Probably a historic heirloom of great value. If this world were a game, it'd be at least Unique-grade, with options like Ignore Piercing Resistance +5, Physical Attack +10, Magic Attack +5, and so on.
But I already had two swords, so it was out of priority.
[One Boot]
And there was a single boot with golden wings depicted on it. Pellelian said it boosted running speed. Useless to me since I have no feet. But then it hit me—couldn't Isil wear it? A vine plant in shoes? Character potential rivaling Puss in Boots.
-No idea if it'd be cute.
Pellelian shot it down flatly. For a grand magus, he was just clueless. I sighed inwardly.
-Prioritize. Especially the rare ones—touch them, and alarm magic triggers.
'Is that on mine too?'
-No, not yours.
'Ah.'
Plus, size was an issue. Pellelian's signet ring had sub-space magic, but the storage wasn't huge. I couldn't take much in size or quantity.
Among them, one item definitely caught my eye. Something preserved in the warehouse for ages. A pot worth using.
[Pottery]
[Golden Soil]
'That pottery's an artifact too, right?'
-Yeah, but I'd need to check what magic's infused. The name popping up when I focus proves it's no ordinary item. And something was inside it.
Golden soil. No idea what it was, but it seemed good for plants. Obviously not for me to eat—for Isil. Does she know how thoughtful I am?
Finish evolution, grab the goods, and bolt. Leave an invoice for the creeps who called me gross and mounted me as hallway decor.
Clank.
Then the door opened. Servants lumbered in, loading items onto trolleys.
'Hey, what are you doing!'
Luckily, they skipped my picks. But one suddenly picked me up.
Was this the part where they carted me off? I hadn't grabbed anything yet!
"Nah, not that one yet."
"Yeah?"
"List says it's for tomorrow. Leave it."
Phew, he set me down. Then they loaded up and left.
'Tomorrow!'
I was slated for export tomorrow. There went my plan to evolve into Phantom Thief Prince Serpent.
'What do we do!'
-What do you mean? We can't leave that behind!
Since I'd mentally marked the Altead Ritual Celadon, Pellelian had his must-have too: a blank parchment scroll.
[Scroll]
Unlike the others, it was buried in dust. For good reason. Just dingy parchment, not even much of it. Classified as an artifact only because it oozed ominous magic.
-They have no clue of its value. Rich collectors are all the same.
Pellelian claimed it was the most precious item here.
-It holds the power of the crow demon Malphas. Nicknamed the "Arch-Deceiver."
'And?'
-It's the parchment that sly demon uses for contracts. Terms written on it cannot be broken. Compelling force binds them.
Whoa. So if you wrote "If you lie, the continent perishes" and lied on purpose—what happens? I asked, and Pellelian looked like he might puke at the childish idea.
Guess not. 'Anyway, what now?'
-Listen up.
His plan sounded plausible.
-Heh heh. When night falls, that's our chance.
We waited.
As a thief, I love that this world has no CCTV. Asked about similar magic—apparently none here. Would take a top mage glued to it nonstop.
Options galore, then. Pellelian and I scouted the warehouse interior first. It was a "warehouse," not a "vault." Ventilation was essential. Hence, a window for it.
Even a nimble thief couldn't escape through it—too small for anyone not emaciated, and right under the ceiling. Ladder? Guards make it impossible. Probably magic alarms too.
So, thief-proof design......
'But I'm already inside.'
Perfect infiltration. Outside the window was dim—pitch-black midnight. Prime thief time.
I tensed my tail tip. Felt Pellelian's ring. Tried sub-space magic. Normally easy, but evolution incomplete—barely succeeded.
'Isil!'
She burst out. Usually slowpoke, but quick exiting sub-space. She clung to me right away.
'Missed me too, huh.'
Smack smack.
But she kept whipping me with leaves. Lonely from the long separation, I guess. No helping it—I'd only recently mastered the ring's sub-space.
After indulging her tantrum, I asked her a favor. She got it instantly.
'You can do it, right?'
Still clinging, she slowly extended vines. Only two long ones—regrettable, but it'll do.
Priority: parchment and celadon. Gently laid her vines on them.
Warehouse silent. Not for long.
'Now!'
Isil yanked. Whirrr— like reeling in a tape measure, they slid over. Simultaneously, I snagged my eyed items with Transparent Hand.
Intruder Detected!
ReeeEEE—
Ear-piercing alarm blared.
'Isil, back in for a sec!'
Stashed the loot and her in sub-space.
ReeeEEE— Clank! Clank!
Iron bars shot up around displays. Crimson lights thunked on. Armed guards incoming.
And not just them.
-Golem activating!
A golem hidden inside. Anti-thief model.
That golem's specs......
-Pathetic.
'Junk golem.'
My current magic could handle it fine.
* "Intermediate Elemental Magic: Water lv2 activated."
⟨ Water Orb ⟩
I conjured a water orb over the golem's head. Won't drown it, but sensors disrupted. It froze mid-charge.
-Solar plexus, below the chest.
* "Intermediate Elemental Magic: Wind lv2 activated."
⟨ Wind Butterfly ⟩
Wind butterfly flutters in, slips into the chest gap—boom! Blasts off the breastplate.
* "Transparent Hand lv17 activated."
⟨ Telekinetic Throw ⟩
Grabbed the freshly snagged rapier, Cyclops' One-Eyed Piercer, and hurled it. Sharp tip pierced the core.
Crack!
Done. Golem powered down.
Berolinger Family Warehouse Guard defeated.
Not even a scratch. Duh—for this level of golem. Hey, back as White Horn Snake, I took down two stronger than you.
Outside grew noisy soon after. Guards prying open the warehouse door for entry. Alarm to golem kill was a blink—they reacted fast.
Bang!
Door flew open.
"Who goes there! How dare you!"
Moment guards poured in, I executed my prep.
* "Transparent Hand lv17 activated."
⟨ Window Shatter ⟩
Just smashed the window with Transparent Hand.
Crash!
Guards looked up in unison.
"D-Damn it, outside! He went out the window!"
'Thief scaled the wall, broke window, fled.' That's how it looked to them.
They rushed out en masse. Me? I just stayed put.
No need to flee. The snake crystal statue? Untouched by the thief, quietly on shelf row 3, level 2, corner spot.
Perfect crime.