I Did Everything for You
The Black Sky assassination syndicate had fallen.
More accurately, it had been eradicated.
Back then, without a doubt—
In that brutal purge, everything should have been brought to an absolute end. Yet items belonging to the syndicate continued to surface one after another: the Mirror of Phase discovered in Vogis's curio shop, and now, this Monument of Illusions. Both were artifacts developed exclusively within Black Sky, strictly forbidden from ever leaking to the outside world.
Did they leak before the syndicate's fall? Or... has someone been smuggling them out in the aftermath?
Naturally, the syndicate had not consisted solely of killers. If every member did nothing but assassinate, there would have been no one left to run the organization's logistics, procurement, and infrastructure. The assassins—Phantom included—had all perished, but the support personnel had not necessarily shared their fate.
Someone survived and is selling off the assets. That seems the most plausible explanation.
Xiel's ultimate objective was to cement his forged identity into an authentic one and fully assimilate into his new, peaceful life. To achieve that, eliminating any loose threads capable of tracing back to him was paramount. He had already planned to investigate during the academy vacation, but he had never expected a lead to fall directly into his lap like this.
Should I be grateful to Sir Gunter...? No. I would rather not.
Catching the culprit was undeniably thanks to Sir Gunter's relentless tagging along, but Xiel had zero desire to utter a word of thanks. Not in the slightest. In fact, he hoped never to cross paths with the man again.
So this is what it feels like to have someone talk your ear off.
Thanks to the knight's ceaseless chatter, Xiel had finally come to grasp the practical meaning of idiomatic expressions.
In any case, they were currently deep within a secluded back alley where no pedestrian would ever venture. Using the newly recovered Monument of Illusions, Xiel had set it up against the crumbling brick and activated its concealment field. Even if someone happened to walk past the alleyway's mouth, all they would perceive from the outside was an empty, trash-strewn dead end. In reality, two people occupied that garbage-filled lane.
Xiel reached down.
Tap.
The moment his finger prodded the base of the burglar's neck, the wanted criminal bolted awake with a sharp gasp.
"Wh-Where am I...?"
"In a back alley," Xiel replied courteously.
"I-I'll do anything! Please, just don't turn me over to the Bounty Center...!"
A mild curiosity struck Xiel, prompting him to ask, "Were you the one who robbed House Sophen?"
The man's face drained of color.
I knew it—he's a bounty hunter sent by Sophen!
He had heard rumors that House Sophen was on a rampage. In particular, their petty, penny-pinching patriarch, Olton Sophen, had thrown an incandescent fit, bellowing that he would flay the thief alive the moment he was dragged in. When he had first heard the gossip on the street, he had merely snickered behind his hand. Right now, laughing was the last thing on his mind.
"It really was Sophen... How much did they offer you? I can pay you more than that! Far more!"
Xiel inquired out of pure, dispassionate curiosity. "How much is that?"
"Five hundred thousand! That's way more than the bounty!"
If he was captured, he would spend the rest of his life rotting in a dungeon. It wasn't as if he had hit only one or two aristocratic estates; to brush this off as mere burglary was impossible when he had ruffled the feathers of high-ranking nobles far too often and far too severely.
"I see."
Yet Xiel merely nodded with an impassive expression.
Flustered by the deadpan reaction, the thief hastily shouted, "Six hundred thousand!"
"It went up by a hundred thousand."
"...Seven hundred thousand."
"Now two hundred thousand."
"E-Eight hundred thousand! Beyond that... I don't have another copper to my name..."
"Eight hundred thousand. That is your entire fortune."
"It is, I swear..."
"Understood."
"Huh? Does that mean you're letting me go?"
"No."
"..."
Xiel had genuinely just been curious. It was simple intrigue, nothing more.
"I will begin questioning you now."
To the criminal's ears, however, that declaration sounded like a lingering lifeline—as though the man wasn't satisfied with the bribe, but might spare his life if he answered every question with utmost diligence.
You extortionist bastard...
Oliver trembled from head to toe, though he dared not voice the thought aloud. In his current predicament, only one viable option remained: answer truthfully and completely.
"Where did you acquire this item?" Xiel finally asked.
Oliver answered without hesitation. "At the black market..."
"Which black market?"
"There's an underground market that convenes only once a month. I happened to hear about it by pure chance. That's where I bought it, but..."
The fugitive's name was Oliver.
Originally, he was nothing more than a petty thief. He had dipped into pickpocketing just to put bread on the table, slipped in and out of the city watch's holding cells, taken a few beatings along the way, and generally led a hand-to-mouth existence. However, he had been born with an unusually light, supple frame and an innate knack for thievery. Had Xiel observed him in his former life, he would have readily assessed the boy as prime raw material for an assassin or a Crow.
Then, during an accidental visit to that illicit bazaar, he had stumbled upon this magical relic—the Monument of Illusions.
"There was a peddler hawking bizarre artifacts in the stalls... He told me he'd give it to me cheap, so I just took it..."
"Who was he?"
"I-I don't know!"
There was no earthly way he could have known. A black market was, by definition, a place where buyers and sellers conducted business under total anonymity. While a handful of well-known brokers operated openly, that reputation only developed naturally over extended periods of trade.
"It was my first time ever setting foot in that particular market... I-I've visited underground bazaars in other districts before, but never one like that."
There were many different classifications of illicit markets throughout the imperial capital. Evidently, this was one of them.
A gathering unknown even to me, Xiel thought.
He was familiar with several underworld markets, but such gatherings were inherently fluid—vanishing overnight and cropping up elsewhere just as swiftly.
"Where is it located?"
"I-I honestly don't know the exact coordinates! I only ended up there by total accident."
"Is that so? You do not know."
Xiel's flat, unblinking tone stoked Oliver's terror all the more. A suffocating dread seized his chest, whispering that if he failed to produce something useful, he would be hauled straight to the Bounty Center!
"I-I might have stumbled in by chance, but the major players know about it!"
"Do they? Who?"
Forgive me, pal. A man's got to survive.
"Do you... happen to know the 'Robson Family'?"
"I know them."
The Robson Family. Xiel was well aware of them. He had known of their existence in the past, and during his recent errand to Vogis's shop, some of their thugs had picked a fight with him.
"I overheard King Robson of the Robson syndicate talking about it. I only caught snippets by accident, but..."
The Robson syndicate effectively ruled everything below Sector 40. Their ranks encompassed everyone from street beggars to common laborers, extending their tentacles into every derelict crevice beyond the imperial crown's reach. While their nature differed from specialized networks like Black Sky or the intelligence crows, they shared the common trait of thriving within the city's shadows.
"King Robson. Understood."
King Robson was the undisputed patriarch of that criminal syndicate.
"B-But you have to be careful! That man is genuinely monstrous. Countless people who dared laugh at him have vanished into thin air without a sound."
"Vanished?"
"...?"
The corner of Xiel's mouth twitched upward. Then, he tilted his head slightly.
"When do they vanish? I have not vanished."
"Uh..."
Was he attempting a joke? Or was he utterly ignorant of who King Robson was? More importantly, had that faint smirk just now been him mocking the man?
"King Robson. Understood."
"R-Right, then... if you'll excuse me..."
Just as Oliver attempted to edge backward and slip away, Xiel spoke.
"Where are you going?"
Ah. The eight hundred thousand.
"Ah, r-right, of course! Haha. I need to give you your money! Just follow me."
He would make a break for it the second an opening presented itself. He didn't know how fast this swordsman was, but—
"You intend to give me money?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"B-Because, well..."
Xiel tilted his head again, genuine incomprehension in his amber eyes. "I have no reason to accept money from you."
Oliver panicked. He wouldn't take the bribe? He was just going to haul him to the authorities anyway?
"C-Can't you just take it, please?"
"Just take it?"
"Yes! I-I want to give it to you!"
It was the exact same situation as the Robson thugs he had encountered previously.
There are remarkably many people in this world who give money away for nothing.
Xiel nodded serenely. "Understood."
Oliver inwardly cheered, entirely ignorant of the fate awaiting him mere moments later.
"You're Mr. Xiel Steelheart, correct? Incredible! Absolutely marvelous! Good heavens, how on earth did you manage to bag this slippery rat...? You even managed to recover every single copper of his criminal proceeds! Did you force-feed him some kind of truth serum?"
The clerk at the Bounty Center beamed with unrestrained delight.
"Hunting this bastard down was driving the entire sector mad. Haha, truly magnificent work, sir! You've performed an immense public service!"
"Is that so?"
"Indeed! We had no idea what kind of phantom we were dealing with. He vanished like smoke every time; no matter how many patrols the city watch deployed, they couldn't even catch sight of his coat-tails!"
It was only natural. The thief had been utilizing an infiltration device manufactured exclusively by Black Sky. At present, that very device rested safely in Xiel's coat.
"At any rate, since the scum has fully confessed to all charges, he'll be locked away for a very long time. Honestly, he'll probably rot in prison until the day he dies."
"I see. Then, regarding the bounty—"
"Ah, speak of the devil! Perfect timing!"
The heavy doors of the Bounty Center flew open, and a middle-aged nobleman burst inside, panting heavily.
"Where is that miserable wretch?!"
"My Lord Patriarch! My, you've arrived! We've tossed him right into the subterranean lockup."
"Finally! Finally caught him! The scoundrel who looted my treasury!"
The clerk moved to guide him with familiar ease, only for the nobleman to freeze mid-stride.
"I-Instructor Xiel?"
"Greetings, Patriarch Olton Sophen."
"Instructor Xiel, what brings you here...? When did you return to the capital?"
"A short while ago."
"A short while ago...?"
The clerk glanced between the two men, eyes widening. "Do you two know each other?"
"Ahem. He is my son's instructor at the academy."
"Aha! You mean Young Master Maris! Had I known you two were acquainted, I would have mentioned the instructor in our urgent dispatch. The patriarch was so furious that he visited our office practically every single day over the past week."
Olton could not bring himself to lift his head.
The biting critique Xiel had previously delivered regarding his estate's security rushed unbidden into his mind. To make matters infinitely worse, the burglar had breached the grounds through the exact vulnerable window Xiel had pointed out with pinpoint accuracy!
Yet, more astonishing than his own embarrassment was the current reality.
"To think... that it was you who captured him, Instructor... I had no idea."
Having listened to the clerk's brief summary of events, Olton was utterly unable to conceal his shock.
"It simply happened that way."
"Where in the world did you even find him...?"
The clerk chimed in helpfully. "With patrols tightening around the aristocratic quarter, he attempted to hit an area with relatively lax security. It seems the instructor caught him red-handed right on the spot."
"I-Is that so?"
"Not only that, but he confiscated every last coin of the stolen loot! Thanks to the instructor, not only does he claim the bounty, but the victims will also be able to recover a portion of their stolen wealth."
Xiel promptly corrected him. "That money was given to me directly by the thief."
The clerk offered a sly, conspiratorial grin. "Pretending you were going to let him go just to bleed him dry before handing him over—truly brilliant, sir! Frankly, quite a few hunters actually take the bribe and cut the runners loose."
Something felt distinctly amiss.
"Therefore, it is my money."
He had simply accepted what was offered. Why was it being reclaimed as criminal restitution?
"Haha, quite right, Instructor! Claiming it as your own personal funds—that was a marvelous piece of theater!"
Is he mocking me?
Yet Xiel could not press the matter further. He was currently operating under a civilian cover identity.
Demanding the return of funds officially recorded as recovered criminal proceeds would only cause unnecessary scrutiny.
A substantial bounty awaited him regardless, which was satisfactory enough.
"Ahem. Instructor Xiel... thanks to you, I have incurred an immense debt of gratitude," Olton said, his voice brimming with sincere appreciation.
Xiel gave a firm nod. "Yes, you have."
"..."
Still entirely unaccustomed to Xiel's deadpan cadence, Olton faltered for a moment before pressing on. "Ahem. Soon, as a gesture of my appreciation, I would like to host a dinner in your honor."
"I have already received my compensation."
He was truly an impossible man to fathom.
Right on cue, the clerk intervened. "Ah, by the way, Instructor. We can deposit your reward directly into your Imperial Bank account if you prefer."
That was remarkably convenient.
"Please do so."
"Understood. Just as a reminder, the funds will be transferred after deducting the standard twenty-two percent income tax. You're aware of the policy, yes?"
Income tax? Such a concept existed?
"Ah, you didn't know? Well, this is your first time registering a capture here, isn't it? Under imperial law, all civil awards and official bounties are subject to taxation."
For the very first time, Xiel found himself harboring a slight distaste for the Empire. Why on earth were they taking a cut of his money?
Though deeply perplexed by the logic, he maintained his composure and gave a curt nod. "Understood. Please proceed with the deposit."
"Certainly. It will clear today. If you could just sign these processing forms right here..."
Scritch, scratch.
Xiel completed the paperwork with fluid precision.
Beside him, Olton bowed his head once more. "Instructor Xiel, thank you once again. Um, if you happen to have some spare time, perhaps you could accompany me to our grand estate for a meal...?"
Olton's ulterior motive was transparent: he intended to bring Xiel home under the guise of hospitality and beg him to re-inspect the manor's perimeter defenses.
Regrettably, the invitation was shot down without a second's hesitation.
"I have urgent business."
"I-I see..."
"Yes. Farewell."
Having single-handedly reeled in a three-hundred-thousand-Cel fugitive whom the authorities had deemed untouchable, Xiel exited the Bounty Center with swift, purposeful strides.
King Robson.
He knew the name, but lacked granular intelligence regarding the man's current operations.
It seems I must pay a visit to Erso the Crow.
Meanwhile...
Deep within the subterranean holding cells beneath the center, Oliver gripped the cold iron bars, staring out with a look of absolute, soul-crushing despair. A hollow, broken wail tore from his throat:
"I gave you all my money, and I answered every damn question, you son of a bitch... I did everything for you! Isn't this going too fucking far, you psycho?!"