Chapter 216

“What kind of people are in that area?” Kana asked quietly.

Her eyes flicked upward again, toward the elevated section of the auction house—the private chamber wrapped in layered barriers that bent light and sound alike. It sat above the crowd like a throne carved into the building itself.

Leo followed her gaze. “I heard from my father that the king will be present here,” he said. “That section is probably reserved for him. That’s why no one dared challenge the last bid.”

“Perks of being king,” Kana muttered.

She let the thought slide away. Royalty was the least of her concerns tonight. If there was one group the Phantom Thief wouldn’t touch, it was the king.

Suri leaned closer, her voice low. “Bad news! The idiot recovered.”

Kana sighed before Suri even finished.

“He says he can’t remember anything about the auction house,” Suri continued, irritation clear in her tone. “He swears he was on his way there, but that’s it. Nothing else. As expected—useless.”

Kana exhaled slowly. So much for that lead.

“Alright,” she said. “Have Asha and Opel return to their positions. The guests are leaving now.”

Suri nodded and closed her eyes briefly, issuing the silent commands through her illusion scouts.

The auction hall shifted. Chairs scraped softly. Conversations sparked and died as nobles began to file out, escorted by fully armored guards. The tension that had gripped the room loosened—but Kana felt something else tighten.

Her [High Awareness] snapped back into focus.

The old man.

He was moving.

At first glance, it was subtle—almost nothing at all. Yet compared to the sluggish flow of departing guests, his pace was… wrong. Too smooth. Too efficient. His cane tapped the floor, but it didn’t slow him. If anything, it seemed ornamental.

He was already halfway across the hall.

Fast, Kana realized. He was too fast for an old man.

“Suri. Boris,” she said under her breath. “Change of plans. I’m not going with you.”

Suri blinked. “What?”

“I’m following him,” Kana said, eyes locked onto the old man’s retreating back. “The one who won the first two bids of the skill books.”

Before either of them could argue, Kana was already moving. She reached the rear entrance leading to the exchange area.

A guard stepped into her path, spear angled just enough to be a warning. “Your winning bid pass?”

Kana stopped, irritation flickering through her chest. She reached into her cloak and withdrew a small object—golden, heavy, and unmistakable. A horse rearing beneath a crown. The king’s insignia.

“I’m here to investigate someone,” Kana said calmly, “on behalf of the king.”

The effect was immediate. Must be part of their protocol. The guard stiffened, eyes widening just a fraction. “R-right… please enter.”

He stepped aside as if the floor itself had burned him.

Kana passed through—and froze. The old man was already there.

Standing at the table.

The main prize table.

Impossible, Kana thought. I only lost sight of him for a few seconds.

He hadn’t rushed. He hadn’t pushed past anyone. Yet he was ahead of her—comfortably so.

Some kind of movement skill? Kana considered. 

She didn’t approach.

Not yet.

Instead, she slowed her breathing and let her [High Awareness] stretch, studying every detail: the way he stood, the way his weight shifted, the faint distortion in his mana flow.

An old man buying skill books like simple every day groceries.

Moving like he floated across the floor.

Definitely not normal, Kana thought.

And for now, she would closely observe him. Anytime soon, the Phantom Thief should appear and steal those skill books from the old man. She just wished the old man was quick enough to not let them steal the prize.

At first, it looked no different from the dozens of other exchanges unfolding across the huge room.

Clerks moved. Pouches of coin were weighed, opened, inspected. Dungeon items changed hands beneath layered barriers, their covers pulsing faintly with restrained power. The air hummed with low conversation, clinking metal, and the rustle of parchment.

The old man stepped forward.

From within his coat, he produced a small leather pouch—unremarkable, worn soft by use—and placed it on the counter. The receptionist loosened the string, peered inside, and nodded.

She slid the first skill book across the table. The barrier shimmered, parted, then sealed again.

The old man repeated the process for the second book.

Kana’s breath caught—just slightly.

There was a small mana disturbance but it was too weak to be her concern. It wasn’t violent. Not bright. Just a faint distortion, like heat rising from stone after sunset. Kana frowned, her [High Awareness] brushing against it. Probably, a reaction from the skill book, she reasoned. Powerful artifacts always disturbed the mana flow.

The room grew louder as more winners arrived, voices overlapping, guards directing traffic. The noise pressed in, blurring the edges of Kana’s [High Awareness], forcing her to filter harder, sharper.

The old man placed both skill books into a slim briefcase, closed it with care, and turned.

He passed Kana.

So close she could hear the soft scrape of his cane. So close she could smell faint incense and old leather. His eyes never met hers.

He walked on.

Kana exhaled through her nose. The Phantom Thief will strike outside, she thought. 

She shifted her weight, preparing to follow—

“What is this?!”

The shout cut through the room.

Every head turned.

One of the auctions with a higher position probably in charge of inspection stood beside the receptionist, holding the same pouch of coins. His face had gone pale, then red.

“This isn’t a gold coin,” he said loudly. “It’s silver.”

The receptionist blinked. “That’s impossible. I checked it myself.”

She leaned forward, eyes widening in frustration. “Look! It’s gold. I can see it!”

The supervisor overturned the pouch.

Coins spilled across the desk with a sharp, ringing cascade.

Silver. Dull. Heavy. Undeniable.

“This is silver,” he snapped. “Every single one of them.”

The receptionist staggered back. “No—no, I swear—just a moment ago—”

“Everyone!” the supervisor barked. “Find the old man. Now!”

Kana’s blood turned cold.

The mana ripple.

It hadn’t come from the skill books.

It had come from him.

Deception. Perception manipulation. Not an illusion layered over the eyes—but something deeper. Something that told the mind what it expected to see.

The Phantom Thief hadn’t planned to steal the books later. He had already stolen them.

Right under their noses.

Kana cursed under her breath as the room exploded into chaos—guards shouting, barriers flaring, mana clashing in panicked pulses. Her [High Awareness] was smothered by the sudden flood of emotions and intent. It didn’t help at all. She couldn’t locate the old man now.

She ran toward the exit and stopped trying to locate him again.

But it was too late.

The old man was gone. There were no traces of him.

Kana broke into a run, cloak attached to her armor snapping behind her as she charged toward the corridor he had taken—heart pounding, teeth clenched.

I should have thrown the scented potion at him, she thought fiercely.

…..

A few minutes before the chaos.

Leo slipped away on his own.

Boris and Suri watched his back disappear into the thinning crowd, neither of them fully convinced he had truly left the area. Leo had a habit of vanishing when things became complicated—and tonight was very complicated.

They turned their attention to the exit hall.

The auction house’s outer chamber was still alive with sound: nobles laughing too loudly, servants guiding guests, guards forming polite walls of steel. Lanternlight reflected off polished marble floors, casting long shadows that stretched and tangled like conspirators whispering to one another.

“There,” Suri murmured.

Chelle Pint stood near the exit, radiant in formal attire that balanced elegance with comfort. At her sides were her parents—a dignified man and woman in their forties, their posture refined in the way only long-standing nobility managed. They didn’t look tense, but their eyes missed nothing.

Chelle spotted them and immediately lifted her hand.

“Boris! Suri!”

Before Suri could protest, Chelle jogged over, skirts swaying, excitement bright in her eyes.

Suri winced and leaned in, lowering her voice. “Hush. We were supposed to take you secretly, remember?”

Chelle waved the concern away like it was a fly. “No need! I told them we’re going out to eat for a bit. They agreed—because of Kana.”

She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. “They don’t really like people from the empire. Bad history. So when Kana beat that proud imperial brat in the tournament…” Chelle grinned. “Let’s just say she made a very good first impression.”

Suri blinked, then nodded slowly. That simplifies things.

Their previous plan was to swap Chelle out using her [Dopleganger] skill copy—quietly. No deception required tonight. At least not here.

Chelle’s parents approached.

Introductions were exchanged—polite, the kind of conversation that carried invisible weight. Chelle’s mother glanced around before asking, her tone gentle.

“I heard Kana is with you. Where is she now?”

“She’s still inside,” Suri replied. “We’re waiting for her to come out.”

“Oh?” Chelle’s father said, adjusting his gloves. “Did she bid on something earlier?”

Suri nodded, lips curving into a carefully practiced smile. “Yes. Something like that.”

Chelle’s mother laughed softly. “That doesn’t surprise me. After her performance in the annual tournament, she must have earned quite a reward.”

“Please enjoy your night,” Chelle’s mother said after a moment. “But I ask one thing.”

Her gaze rested on Boris now.

“Make sure my daughter returns safely.”

Boris straightened, placing a hand over his chest while Thorn on top of his head made a low grumble sound as if replicating Boris,“Of course mam! We’ll personally escort her until she steps through your gate.”

Suri glanced at Boris and smirked. He was too stiff. Why is he not to his usual self when talking to Chell’s parents? I will tease him later. Suri grinned that made Boris and Thorn shudder for some reason, still the answer satisfied them.

As Chelle’s parents departed, blending back into the departing nobility, the night pressed in closer. The noise thinned. The lanterns flickered as if aware that something unseen was moving beneath the city’s skin.

Suri exhaled slowly, the breath misting faintly in the cold night air.

“Everything is going according to plan,” Chelle said, then tilted her head, lips curling into a thin smile. “Right?”

“I’m not sure,” Suri admitted lightly, as if discussing the weather. “Everything is different from our plan.” She clapped her hands together once, cheerful. “So let’s just enjoy the night. Oh! How about making that lie reality? Let’s eat somewhere when Kana arrives. There are times that you must surrender and move on.”

Boris snorted, arms crossed. “Kana told you to observe everyone at the exit.”

“I am doing it now,” Suri replied, lifting her glass. “And that’s the problem. Nothing is suspicious right now.”

The street outside the auction house was unusually calm. Winter pressed in from all sides, the cold sharpening every sound—boots against stone, fabric rustling, distant murmurs drifting like smoke. Guests moved in orderly streams, their breath visible, their laughter subdued by the night. No running. No panic. No trace of a phantom thief slipping through the dark.

Then—

Shouts rang out from the far end of the exit.

Sharp. Urgent.

The calm shattered like glass.

Lanterns swung as guards poured into the street, armor clanking, eyes hard and searching. Lines broke formation as they fanned out, stopping guests, inspecting faces with sudden suspicion. 

An employee rushed toward them, breath uneven. Though dressed plainly, the way he moved marked him as no ordinary staff—his hand hovered near a concealed weapon, eyes alert.

“Did you see an old man with a cane?” he asked quickly.

“The one who won the bid?” Boris said.

“Yes,” the man snapped. “Did you see him?”

Suri frowned, her expression sharpening as she scanned the crowd using her illusion scouts once more. “No. We didn’t see him come out yet. Why?”

“No time to explain—” The man was already moving, repeating the question to the next group, his urgency bleeding into the crowd like ink into water.

The murmurs grew louder. Suri couldn’t put her illusion freely inside the auction house because it was full of different powerful barriers

“Kana is following him,” Boris hesitated,”Did something happen inside?”

They could only wait.

Post note:
Hope you enjoy chap! 🙂