Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Phantom Thief Dauphin (4) - Cop and Robber
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「To the debauched Baron Kashiba de Molle, ensnared by lust.」
I know of your crimes: forcibly taking countless women, leaving them with indelible scars, and silencing those who protested with violence and threats. Before the rooster crows three times, confess your sins in the square and beg forgiveness from your victims. If you ignore this, the bloodline of House Molle will end with this generation.
— Phantom Thief Dauphin —
"Heard Baron Kashiba got snipped."
"Snipped? What got snipped?"
"Come on, you know damn well. They say an earsplitting wail of agony echoed from his mansion."
"Terrifying, yet oh-so satisfying. A guy who got thorns on his tongue if he couldn't swing his dick for a day—living like that must be hell."
「To the self-proclaimed knight Pernus Finn, who can't control his rage.」 Causing chaos in restaurants over bad food, eating without paying, smashing counters while drunk and assaulting the owner who tried to stop you, hurling abuse at a slow-moving old man for not getting out of your way fast enough—"Old folks should just drop dead."
And that's just the tip; there's more, but space is short. I can't fathom the logic of someone who can't even wield a sword properly claiming knighthood just because his dad's the captain. Still, even dimwits deserve a chance to repent. I advise you: before the hour hand completes three circles, beg forgiveness from your victims.
— Phantom Thief Dauphin —
"That trash Pernus got executed."
"Huh? There's still two days till the deadline, right?"
"He got drunk, went to his old victims, and tried throwing a tantrum, accusing them of snitching to that thief bastard. But some shadow came flying out of nowhere, whisked him away, and the next day he was found all squid-like."
"Squid-like? What the hell does that mean?"
"Every long bone in his body was pulverized short, so now he flops around like some soft-bodied mollusk? Keeping him alive in that state is the real miracle."
「To the corrupt bureaucrat Grunia Laféro, habitual slacker.」 Those without steal a loaf of bread and get enslaved; those with wealth stab someone dead in broad daylight and call it self-defense. I won't demand equal application of the law to all, but your utter refusal to even pretend is beyond tolerance. Before the fields visible from the city gates fill with yellow flowers, here's your chance to make things right. If there's even a shred of conscience in your heart, don't turn away.
— Phantom Thief Dauphin —
"Grunia resigned from his post and apologized to the victims whose cases he'd botched."
"Well, damn, miracles do happen. So, this one goes smoothly?"
"But his confession about taking bribes rubbed the higher-ups wrong, so they tried to shut him up."
"Tried?"
"New trend in upper-class decor: the homeowner strung up upside-down as a festive ornament."
"Indeed! Us lowly folk could never keep up with high society culture! Hahaha!"
"Are you all fucking idiots!!"
BAM!!
Guard barracks meeting room.
The company commander slammed his fist on the desk, roaring in fury.
Something similar had happened before Dauphin first appeared, but the atmosphere now was worlds apart.
Back then, he'd been all warm smiles, cheering on his platoon leaders with "Let's do our best together!" Now, his eyes blazed with murderous intent, like he wanted to slaughter the incompetents before him.
Despite the harsh shift in treatment, the platoon leaders didn't dare protest.
Rank was part of it, but more than that, the guards' recent string of blunders and embarrassments made even excuses feel pathetic.
"The whole city's laughing at us! Nobles, bureaucrats—they're all calling us useless freeloaders who strut around but flop when it counts!!"
As company commander overseeing Levruk's security, he still ranked below many in social, economic, and political status within the city.
They lived in fear of becoming Dauphin's next target, channeling their anxiety into pressuring him relentlessly.
This was no time for pipe dreams of glory and promotions.
Fail to catch Dauphin soon, and his own head would roll.
The commander's gaze drifted to an empty seat in the meeting room.
It belonged to the platoon leader he'd booted out—fed up with her nagging—saying, "You're busy, no need to attend meetings."
"Get Platoon Leader Dalia here. The next Dauphin case goes to 8th Platoon."
At his declaration, the peeking platoon leaders finally spoke up.
"P-please wait, Commander. 8th Platoon's handling their duties in another sector right now. Pulling them will strain operations."
"Throwing in a fresh platoon now—what difference will it make? Stick with us; we've already tangled with the bastard."
"If you didn't like it, you should've done better already!! If you can't catch Dauphin, shut the fuck up!!"
Dalia of 8th Platoon was a notorious outsider in the guards.
Reasons abounded.
Some found her stubborn focus—nose to the grindstone, oblivious to politics—uncomfortable. Others resented comparisons to her diligence. Plenty badmouthed her behind her back for "acting pure."
The commander wasn't much different from his rotten underlings—"clear water above for clear below"—but right now, survival trumped personal grudges.
Soon, Dalia returned from patrol. He laid it out for her.
"8th Platoon, halt all routine duties. From now on, full focus on hunting Dauphin. Your sector gets covered by pulling personnel from other platoons."
The platoon leaders' faces twisted like they'd bitten a bug, but he ignored them, pressing on to Dalia.
"Need support? Name it, you'll get it. But catch that bastard Dauphin—no matter what it takes!"
"...I'll do my utmost."
With anyone else, he'd snap, "Utmost isn't enough—deliver results!" But not this time.
No need.
That was why Dalia, forever on the fringes, still held her platoon command.
Her skills were overwhelmingly superior.
Dauphin's latest declared target: Levruk's tax official.
Just into his twenties, he was hopeless at actual work—more a troublemaking playboy tearing up the city. Yet few dared criticize him.
Concubine's son or not, he was still one of Count Sarnos's legitimate heirs.
Usually swaggering about town, today he huddled shivering in his room.
"Goddamn it, what the hell did I do wrong...!"
Get drunk, cripple a commoner guy? Fuck his begging daughter on the spot while she pleaded for her dad's life?
Everyone his age pulls that shit! It wasn't even against another noble—why should noble blood like his cower like this?
Watching the tax official play the pitiful victim to the hilt, 8th Platoon's guards muttered curses among themselves.
"Fuck, dodging patrol roulette is nice, but babysitting this asshole?"
"Shit, if it weren't duty, I'd bash his face in myself."
Risky talk in the same room as the client, but they didn't care.
8th Platoon was a band of anti-corruption rebels, full of tough bastards.
That was the moment.
─It's Dauphin!! Dauphin's here, guk—!!
Explosions, shattering, flying debris—shouts and screams tangled in chaos.
Most thieves prized stealth and ambush, but Dauphin switched it up every time, bored of repetition.
With victims holing up behind human fortresses of guards lately, flashy breaches like this were common.
BOOM!
"Gaaargh?!"
Unknown blast ripped a huge hole in the wall beside the tax official's room.
They'd picked a windowless building crammed with guards at the sole entrance—for Dauphin countermeasures. Meaningless against a thief who just punched through the wall.
"Greetings, gentlemen! As forewarned, your friendly neighborhood Phantom Thief Dauphin has arrived!"
Smoke billowed as Dauphin strode boldly inside.
Clad head-to-toe in flamboyant wine-red suit.
Round wide-brim hat atop his head; long cape-like cloth draped over his right shoulder, veiling that side of his torso.
Thick beard obscured his face, age hard to pinpoint—first glance said 30s or 40s.
Dark smile on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. Nothing like the era's grim thief stereotype—heaven and earth apart.
"No matter how kindly I 'advise' them, they insist on silence. Must mean they crave seeing my face! How could I refuse such flattery? Now, sinner I scarcely cherish, time to pay for your accumulated karma!"
"H-Hiiiik!"
The tax official trembled, scrambling away. Guards lunged to block, charging Dauphin.
Even a full-plate knight emitting faint sword aura—but Dauphin's response was simple.
FWIP FWIP FWIP!
Cards flew from his hand like darts, embedding in armor. They glowed yellow-hot, then unleashed paralyzing lightning.
One card to soldiers' torsos; precise joints for the knight—masterful control.
Guards collapsed twitching like epileptics. Only the playboy tax official remained.
As Dauphin reached for him—
WHOOOOSH!
Heavy whoosh of something massive incoming.
Instinct yanked Dauphin back; a spear shaft swept his former spot.
Dodged, yet wind from the thrust flapped his hair and cape.
Spotting the newcomer, Dauphin's eyes gleamed.
The strike's power was one thing—but he'd sensed its aim: subdue, not kill.
"Not a knight... Ah, one of those diligent runners unlike the rest."
Serviceable armor—not flashy like a knight's, but no grunt rags.
Face-concealing visor, hiding identity.
Aside from subtle feminine contours, like any guard Dauphin had toyed with.
Yet her aura set her worlds apart. Dauphin queried.
"Here to catch me, officer? Or guard?"
"You know it. Your wild rampage ends here, thief."
"'Phantom Thief' rolls off the tongue nicer! 'Noble Outlaw' tickles a bit, but I like it!"
"Thief or outlaw, you're still a criminal!!"
Under the crescent moon, cop and robber's game of tag began.