Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Using Others' Things as My Own (1)
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This fact wasn't something only she knew. The entire empire probably knew that Ovest Territory was always strapped for cash.
"It's got nothing to do with Ovest Territory. This is something I'm doing on my own, separate from my father's intentions."
"Ah...."
Once she learned it had no connection to Diego, Elice's expression darkened even further.
'Well, yeah, even she'd think it sounds ridiculous.'
A twenty-year-old greenhorn who could swing a sword getting all buddy-buddy with her and boldly claiming he could bring down the empire's top guild.
But no matter what anyone said, it was the truth. A future that hadn't become reality yet.
'In that case, I suppose it's time to make her believe.'
I slipped my hand into my pocket. The dim light from one of the tavern's few candles illuminated something that emerged from my bosom.
"That's...!"
"Yeah, the Lord's seal."
I rolled the ring slowly between my fingers as I continued speaking. With each shift in angle, the ring's surface caught the light and sparkled brilliantly.
"You understand what it means that I have this, right?"
"Ah.... Yes."
Elice's face brightened compared to before. I tucked the seal back into my bosom and pulled out another pouch.
Thud.
A heavy sound echoed as I set the pouch on the table.
It was different from when it had held casino chips before. This was far weightier, with a mesmerizing metallic ring.
"This is investment capital."
"Investment?"
"Yeah. Around 3 p.m. tomorrow, there'll be an auction at the central auction house. Housing, artwork, then jewelry in that order."
"......Yes. That's the usual."
"Participate from start to finish. You can leave after the jewelry section."
"That's all?"
"Yeah, and...."
I lowered my voice meaningfully as I added,
"If any jewelry catches your eye, feel free to buy it."
"Oh my. You know that kind of talk gets a girl excited."
Elice gave a sly smile and raised her bare hand, devoid of rings.
"Does that comment from earlier bother you? What if I buy something ridiculous?"
"Who knows."
I just smiled.
"You'll find out when you go."
"I haven't said I'm going yet."
Elice pouted and grumbled. But from the way she eyed the pouch of money, I could tell.
She would end up participating in the auction.
It wouldn't be greed for jewelry driving her. More like curiosity about me.
"See you here tomorrow at this time, then."
I waved as I left the tavern.
Of course, I didn't mean here at this tavern.
Elice would come find me on her own soon enough.
❖ ❖ ❖
Jack, the street urchin, rubbed his hands together.
"Alright, time to start business for the day."
He was an expert in property transfers on this street. In other words, he was a master pickpocket.
"Any customers smelling like money around?"
Jack wrinkled his freckled nose and slipped into the shadows between buildings.
He felt no guilt over stealing from others.
It was simply what he had to do to survive. A skill he'd picked up as naturally as breathing since early childhood.
"Who should it be today?"
And so, Jack scanned for prey much like choosing his meal for the day.
He had his own criteria for selecting targets.
First, no nobles.
Get caught by the wrong one, and you could end up dragged off by the guards. Plus, most had escorts nearby.
Second, scrutinize their clothes.
Flashy jewels dangling weren't everything. High-end fabrics, fine stitching, luxurious finishes—that was the real jackpot.
Finally, pick someone distracted, eyes elsewhere.
Higher chance of snatching something clean that way.
"Oh ho?"
After a long search, Jack's eyes gleamed. His gaze locked on a figure approaching with a deep hood pulled low.
"That one?"
Compared to other kids, Jack rarely came up empty. Nimble fingers, quick feet, and lastly....
'It reeks of money, reeks of it.'
His nose was incredibly sensitive.
The target gave off a thick scent of wealth. His bosom undoubtedly held a pouch stuffed with gold coins.
'Whoa, how much cash does it take to stink this bad?'
He could almost hear the jingle of coins already.
The hood was pulled low, but he could tell it was a man. Tall but slender, not particularly intimidating.
Above all, the trouser hems peeking from under the long hooded cloak and the shoes were top-quality.
'Not a noble, though.'
Nobles didn't wander these markets.
They found even a speck of dirt on their hems utterly filthy and preferred carriages whenever possible.
'Some guild contact? Or an errand boy?'
Didn't matter either way.
A few punches were nothing compared to days of hunger.
Besides, he'd never failed to lift something, no matter the mark.
'Especially that guy....'
He was looking around like a total newbie to the capital.
Jack knew the type all too well.
'Country bumpkin fresh in town.'
A noble would've ditched his servants to sightsee alone; otherwise, just some hick overwhelmed by the capital's splendor.
'Doesn't know they cut your nose off in the blink of an eye?'
Jack decided to teach him life's bitter lesson—let him feel Magiore's famous proverb firsthand.
'Jackpot today.'
Grinning wickedly, Jack burst from the alley. He ran as if in a hurry, timing it perfectly to collide with the hooded figure.
"Ugh!"
He made a show of the impact, his hands moving fast. As he yanked the money pouch from the hood's bosom, he tumbled dramatically to the ground.
"Ow, ow, owie!"
He rolled noisily, sneaking the pouch into his bosom.
Years of working these streets had honed his sleight to perfection—no one would spot it.
"S-s-sorry!"
Jack propped himself up with now-empty hands. He feigned utter panic as he looked up.
"-!"
And for once, it wasn't an act—he was genuinely startled.
"......"
The hooded man stood tall as if nothing had happened.
He showed no surprise at the collision. If anything, he eyed Jack with keen interest, scanning him slowly.
The gaze piercing from under the hood was razor-sharp. As if he knew exactly what Jack had tucked away.
'Nah, no way. Just my imagination.'
Shaking off the eerie unease, Jack stood.
"Sorry, sir! So sorry!"
He bowed deeply, clasping his hands habitually.
"I was in such a rush.... This lowly one made a mistake."
He groveled like a fly, begging with all his might.
"I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
"......"
The man said nothing. As the silence dragged on, Jack awkwardly peeked up.
"......!"
He froze like a fly in honey.
Under the hood's shadow, the man's elegant jawline peeked out, his pink lips curving softly.
As if to say,
'Right on cue.'
A smile like he'd been waiting for Jack. Just like a hunter with a trap sprung.
'W-what?'
Jack instinctively backed away. Something felt off—bad vibes.
And up close, beneath the money scent, an even fouler odor hit him.
'This smell... what is it?'
One he'd never encountered before.
Dank and vile, seeping into you from the depths, the kind you rarely caught. A bizarre stench almost tangible.
Jack realized soon enough—only someone as sensitive as him would detect it.
'......This feels bad.'
When intuition screamed like this, he had one option.
"Sorry!"
Shout and bolt—strategy number thirty-six.
Jack sprinted full-tilt, glancing back.
He expected pursuit, but surprisingly, the man just stood there. Soon lost in the crowd.
"Huff, huff."
Jack darted through the maze of alleys. When he felt safe, he slowed.
"Phew, nailed it."
A bit of static, but a successful lift as always.
He ducked into a dark alley, hurrying to a deserted spot.
"Wonder how much is in here."
No way he'd open it where eyes could see.
The pouch gleamed expensively, its weight intoxicatingly heavy.
"Ahh, big score after so long."
Mindful of the jingle, he slipped into a dead-end alley.
"Let's see...."
Calming his pounding heart, he yanked open the mouth of the pouch.
"......Huh?"
Jack's face twisted in disbelief.
It was full of coins. The problem? They were all,
"Coppers?"
Every last one.
"What the...."
Jack plunged his hand in, rummaging wildly.
Jingle, jingle, jingle.
The racket echoed. He should've been quiet, but screw that now.
"No way. It can't be...."
He checked under moonlight, reaching the unwanted truth.
"......All coppers? For real?"
It was. Every coin matched in size and weight.
"Damn it!"
He didn't dare hurl the pouch but trembled in place.
"No, seriously. Crazy bastard? Who carries this many coppers?"
He'd banked on golds from the jingle. Instead, just a handful of silvers' worth.
"Damn, damn!"
Jack stuffed the pouch away, cursing nonstop.
"Ruined my whole day in one go. Now I gotta head back out."
The more he thought, the angrier he got. And this pouch had a fatal flaw.
"Ugh, so heavy."
Too noisy to run. No next job like this.
"Nothing for it. Sell it off first, then...."
Muttering, he turned—and,
"......Damn."
Swallowed yet another curse.
"Hey, kiddo. Nice haul today, huh?"
"We could hear you counting from here."
Two men sauntered in from the alley mouth.
Tom and Jerry.
Local thugs who ran this beat.