Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Phantom Thief Dauphin (7) - The Phantom Thief's Day Off, The Guard's Day Off
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"Did you hear? They say Dauphin failed to punish his target for the first time."
"Hmm, a bit disappointing. Then again, things had gone too smoothly up until now."
"He won't get caught now, will he? There are still so many scumbags who need to pay!"
The bustling streets of Levruque echoed with such chatter as a man strolled through.
The man's appearance was utterly ordinary.
So ordinary that if you asked anyone around, "Describe the man who just passed by," no one could give a proper answer.
Of course, it was a disguise meant to avoid drawing attention, so in that sense, it was a success.
[Hahaha! Everyone's buzzing about your failure. Technically, you didn't even get caught, but look at their reactions. Must sting a bit inside, huh?]
From within the man's shadow, the archdemon cackled mockingly.
Lucidra, who had returned to the Crown Prince's side after nonstop work to pay off her bet, was thrilled to see how things had unfolded, grinning from ear to ear.
Failure hits hardest those who haven't tasted it much before.
The Crown Prince, who had handled everything effortlessly with his talents, had failed to achieve his goal for the first time. How delicious their reactions must be!
Would he snap at the mocking demon beside him?
Or pretend to be nonchalant while secretly seething?
Lucidra's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
'You're right, it's quite frustrating! That guard girl was no pushover at all. One wrong move, and the whole plan might fall apart!'
[……?]
Huh, that's not the reaction she expected?
Lucidra peered from the shadow at the man—not the Crown Prince, but Dauphin disguised as an ordinary civilian.
His utterly bland, harmless face somehow seemed oddly excited. Was it her imagination?
'Last night's experience made me admit I'd been arrogant and biased. Honestly, I didn't expect a real worthy opponent until the knight order from Count Sarno's house was dispatched. But for a mere guard to have that level of skill! Truly astonishing!'
[F-For someone saying that, you look kinda happy?]
At Lucidra's question, an irrepressible smile tugged at Dauphin's lips.
'If that's how it looks to you, then my joy must outweigh the frustration.'
What defines a phantom thief as a true phantom thief?
A perfect trick? A bold performance? Massive scale?
People might give different answers, but for Phantom Thief Dauphin, it was this:
A worthy rival.
A cop, detective, or sleuth.
Details varied, but those pursuing thieves under the banner of law and order were what made a phantom thief complete.
'Yet I also saw it as an impossible dream. This land is truly the worst for it.'
The territory ruled by the Redbell Marquis was, to put it bluntly, not friendly or livable for the common folk.
They squeezed the people dry for the domain's wealth without hesitation and ruled with authoritarian brutality to strengthen control.
But at least it was calculated—driven by 'efficiency' and 'economy.'
The Redbell Marquis might lack scruples, but he wasn't a fool who didn't know what benefited or harmed him and his house.
Sure, mid-level managers sometimes botched it, causing issues, but the overall policy was like that.
It wasn't the Crown Prince's taste, but at least if you handed him 'moral means that yield greater long-term gains,' he had the foundation to implement them.
But Count Sarno's territory here was even worse.
The crimes by the ruling class here lacked any rationale or efficiency.
They did it just because they wanted to torment, were angry, found it amusing, or saw themselves as special, so lowborn scum deserved whatever.
The lord neglected his duties, knights abandoned honor and pride, officials flattered superiors while ignoring the people below.
That's why Dauphin, calling himself a 'phantom thief,' acted more like a violent vigilante than a proper thief—simply stealing and returning goods wouldn't help, as victims could get retaliated against in broad daylight. Social order itself was a mess.
How could you find a true 'worthy rival' to make a phantom thief feel like one in such a land?
So Dauphin had long abandoned hopes of rival standoffs and switched to a rampage meta, smashing everything in sight.
[So the girl from yesterday is different? She matches your ideal 'law-and-order worthy rival'?]
'How can I claim that after one meeting? But I sensed the potential. And now I'm off to confirm it.'
What's great about being a phantom thief?
Even with one clone, disguises let you wear countless faces.
Approaching openly as "Hey, I'm the phantom thief" would make real talk impossible, so Dauphin planned to approach Dalia first as a civilian.
Suppressing his excitement, Dauphin searched for Dalia.
"Get out, you damn wench!!"
Splash!
He witnessed Dalia drenched by an old woman's bucket of water.
Dauphin's eyes narrowed.
"Whew! Serving under a competent captain sure makes life easier. Who knew standing out with one achievement would change our treatment this much?"
One squad member kicked off the banter, and the others chimed in.
"Right? Never thought they'd convert our unused days off into paid leave. With the company commander's attitude, he'd have just erased them entirely."
"People need proper rest to work right. After one day off, I feel so light today!"
"Didn't you grovel to the captain last time, saying no days off made life more fulfilling?"
"Ahem, what're you talking about? When did I?"
"I like how the other squads look at us now more. They used to sneer or mock us passing by, but now they watch us warily."
"Really? I feel like they're glaring with more resentment. Jealousy burning in their eyes, y'know?"
"Doesn't matter—they won't dare say anything outright anyway."
"Kinda lame how they treated us like dead weight for busting petty crooks, then flip when we shine."
"Totally, all hail Dauphin—Gahk!"
"Hey, you idiot. Is that what you say?"
The squad member, arms raised dramatically, took a fist to the back of the head from the guy next to him and toppled over.
Seeing the squad sneak peeks at her, Dalia scratched her cheek awkwardly.
Praising a thief like that deserved reprimand as guards, but considering how the squad had been treated and their pent-up gripes, openly scolding felt off.
She couldn't endorse it either, so what could she do?
Just stay silent.
To smooth the awkward air, her lieutenant spoke up.
"Ahem. Anyway, Captain, rest well today. We'll have your armor and spear polished like new."
Dalia nodded.
"Got it. I'll be around districts 6 through 8, so call if anything urgent comes up."
"...You're actually resting, right? No patrolling on your day off like last time?"
Dalia flinched briefly, then waved it off.
"N-No way! Even I wouldn't patrol without armor or spear."
"Says the one who can flatten these guys barehanded."
"Anyway, I'm fine—don't worry. See ya!"
Half-forcing the end of the talk, Dalia left the guardhouse behind.
Of course, she fully intended to check those streets anyway.
With the company commander's threats looming, few guards would dare act up, but those resenting their demotion to backwater posts might still pull stunts.
Dalia was quite famous in the city now, but surprisingly few recognized her.
She always patrolled in full armor with visor down, so even those she'd helped or chatted with rarely saw her bare face.
Her casual clothes drew stares for other reasons, but Dalia didn't mind.
As her lieutenant said, she could drop most foes barehanded.
'...They're actually doing their jobs better than expected?'
Patrolling and observing the guards, Dalia smiled faintly.
Contrary to worries, no guards were venting on civilians.
They seemed a bit lazy in demeanor, sticking to routes rather than proactive searches, but that alone maintained order.
Most criminals care about armed guards nearby, not their enthusiasm.
'If only it stayed like this.'
Dalia hoped so, but knew it lacked realism.
This was a temporary anomaly thanks to Dauphin; once caught, the commander had no reason to favor her.
No instant betrayal right after, and treatment might improve slightly for precautions, but not to this ideal flow.
Thinking post-capture while he was still free was silly, but seeing her squad's rare cheer worried her about their slide back.
"...Squad Captain 8?"
Lost in thought while walking, Dalia turned at the voice calling her name.
A middle-aged shopkeeper she'd once helped eyed her uncertainly.
Dalia bowed politely.
"Hello, shopkeep."
"Ah, your voice confirms it. I suspected from the hair and walk, but nearly missed you."
"Wasn't hiding on purpose, but it worked out that way. No trouble from other squads' guards?"
"Not in my neck of the woods. Not friendly or eager, but their numbers alone keep the thugs in check."
"Good to hear."
"Heard you earned big merits and got promoted to the upper district. Glad it's going well."
Dalia shook her head.
"Not a promotion. Same streets to protect, just a temp shift."
"Haha, only you'd call upper and here 'the same.'"
Overhearing, nearby shopkeeps poked their heads in.
"Really the squad captain? Without armor, totally different person."
"Even armored, I guessed the figure, but—Ow! Why hit me, you hag?!"
"Why?! You gone senile? Watch your mouth!"
"Just a compliment—Ack! Ack! Sorry! My bad!"
As the couple bantered like a comedy duo, Dalia and others burst laughing.
"...Miss, you're really that squad captain? The one who saved the tax officer from Dauphin?"
An old woman from a corner stall approached Dalia with the question.
She'd always thanked Dalia smilingly during patrols, even offering water, so Dalia smiled back unguarded.
"Yes, Granny."
"Right... I see..."
The old woman muttered, bowing her head, then vanished into her shop.
Assuming she'd fetch water like usual, Dalia watched—then froze.
The woman reemerged, her face twisted in deep rage and hatred.
"Get out, you damn wench!!"
Splash!
The water doused Dalia like a drowned rat; the laughing shopkeeps gaped in shock.
The old woman pressed on with venom.
"That trash! The bastard who tormented my daughter till she took her own life—I'd chew his guts raw and it wouldn't be enough!! Why save him? Why help him?! Should've let him be!! Let Dauphin punish him!! Everyone else paid, so why not him?! Why—!!"
Thwack!
A thrown tomato splattered Dalia's hair red.
The old woman hurled stall goods wildly; Dalia stared, neither blocking nor dodging.
The mother's fury and grief over her lost daughter forbade any response.
"What guard?! What 'protecting people'?! You ignore the real scum deserving the noose!! Fawning to trash and cozying up, then claim 'same streets'? You're laughing at us inside!!"
Her words brimmed with prejudice and misunderstanding.
I never fawned.
Never mocked you.
I truly wanted to protect people.
Ah, but.
How to respond to such rage, sorrow, despair?
Dalia stayed silent—but it was the wrong choice.
Feeling ignored, the old woman snatched a fruit knife and charged.
An untrained old shopkeeper's move: slow, sloppy, wasteful.
Any merchant could have stopped her effortlessly, without Dalia intervening.
Yet none moved.
Frozen by her ghostly aura and vengeful killing intent.
Dalia closed her eyes quietly.
The frail blade couldn't kill her body.
But it would surely butcher her heart.
No one could stop it.
No one deserved to.
"That's enough, elder."
—Except the phantom thief, who acted on his own heart, credentials be damned.