Chapter 8
“BY THE WAY, WHICH COMPANY did Fuzzy Dice send that calling card to?” Solomon asked casually. “I hear there’re lots of big companies around there.”
“Uh, what was the name…?” Mira thought for a moment and managed to remember. “Dorres, perhaps?”
“The Dorres Company, huh?”
“Oh, heard of it?”
“A bit. I mean, when I was investigating that Chimera Clausen stuff, their name came up in reports a lot. Man, they’re rotten to the core.”
The Dorres Company was involved in all kinds of shady activities—fraud, the illegal drug trade, racketeering, and even assassinating competitors. It was incredible that they’d evaded the law so long.
“Fuzzy Dice is definitely a righteous kind of thief, that’s for sure.” According to Solomon, all Fuzzy Dice’s targets had one thing in common: shady dealings. Mira had gotten that sense based on what she’d heard about him too. She already envisioned him as a thief with a strong sense of justice.
Just then, something occurred to her. “Hey, what’d his other targets do to attract his attention?”
That question was mostly out of curiosity. How evil did someone have to be for the righteous thief to target them?
Solomon seemed just as interested in that. “Pretty bad things, as I recall. Wait just a sec. I have a list around here… Ah, there it is. Let’s see…”
It seemed he’d researched this. He carefully read out what he’d found. First, a total of fourteen people had fallen victim to Fuzzy Dice. The majority were merchants, but they included even Adventurers’ Guild Union members and nobility. Their misdeeds were plentiful and diverse, but most were especially heinous, up to and including murder.
“Of all those criminals, one is surprisingly…unremarkable,” Mira mused.
“Yeah. Looking at the list again, I think the same thing.”
Amid the phantom thief’s fourteen “victims,” the same person—Gerhard Herman—stuck out to them. He was a noble who ruled one edge of Grimdart. He was also Fuzzy Dice’s first target, the spark that ignited the legend of the phantom thief.
The first thing that struck them was that heist’s calling card—or rather, lack thereof. These days, Fuzzy Dice was known for sending a calling card, then elegantly stealing from his mark. But according to Solomon’s research, he hadn’t sent one before his first crime.
“Quite plain, compared to his M.O. these days,” Mira noted.
“Seems like he didn’t have his persona established yet,” Solomon said.
His research also detailed Fuzzy Dice’s first theft. He’d stolen concealed evidence of a crime, then unveiled it for the world to see. He hadn’t touched any money or valuables, Solomon noted. “His first goal was evidence of the crime, basically.”
“That proves his hatred of it, I suppose.”
The accusation leveled against Gerhard based on the unveiled evidence was human trafficking. A heinous crime, but Fuzzy Dice’s second and third targets had committed even more—and worse ones. Gerhard paled in comparison.
What caught Mira and Solomon’s attention was that the evidence pointed to Gerhard trafficking war orphans.
“It apparently caused a hell of a ruckus back then.” Solomon’s documents contained a record of the events, which described the state of the nation and Gerhard’s treatment. He read with great interest.
Even nobles had to be tried for their crimes, but they could pull strings when necessary. When rumors spread, they were able to quash them without suspicion. Gerhard had relied on such methods while dipping his toes into human trafficking. That practice was obviously illegal in Grimdart; if the matter was publicized, Gerhard wouldn’t get away with it. But those connected with Gerhard thwarted even outright challenges. Several investigators looking into him had “disappeared” during their efforts.
Then Fuzzy Dice made his heroic appearance. The phantom thief overcame the noble’s efforts, smoothly stealing evidence of his crimes and exposing him to all the world. As such, Gerhard’s true nature became known. At that point, there was nothing even a noble could do. He was executed in the name of the law.
That had been nine years ago. After Gerhard’s execution, the public expressed concern for the orphans he’d victimized.
“The national government used military intelligence to find many victims of his trafficking,” Solomon noted.
Back when the aftershocks of the Defense of the Three Great Kingdoms had yet to settle, and everyone struggled through life, reports of poor, orphaned children being exploited by evil nobles had spread through the surrounding countries.
Making ends meet after the war was difficult. People couldn’t spend time worrying about others’ kids, let alone war orphans. Still, many believed that children represented the future. On top of that, the news of a corrupt noble’s punishment was a ray of light in the dark. Thus, the public supported Fuzzy Dice’s deeds, and cries of concern for the children grew louder until they reached the government’s ears. The national coffers were in a sorry state, but ignoring the problem would only have led to greater discontent, which forced the government to act.
“I’m sure that was part of the phantom thief’s plan too—saving the trafficked kids.”
It wasn’t easy for an individual to track human trafficking, but Fuzzy Dice had succeeded in his plan to rely on the national information network. That, Solomon added wryly, was a terrifying prospect for a head of state like him.
“At any rate, it’s interesting how often orphans come up in all this,” Mira mused.
They believed Artesia was running an orphanage. Fuzzy Dice was rumored to donate to orphanages. And now it turned out his first job had involved rescuing trafficked war orphans. Mira couldn’t help mulling that over.
“Do you think Fuzzy Dice could’ve been Artesia all along?” she asked.
“No way. That’s just… Hmm.” If they knew anything about Artesia, it was that she’d do the impossible to help children. “I mean…maybe Fuzzy Dice’s first crime was like her, but sending calling cards and stealing things? That’s not.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” Mira admitted.
After some thought, the two discarded the possibility. Outside her passion for saving children, Artesia was typically quiet, which didn’t match what they’d heard about Fuzzy Dice at all.
“Well, either way, we’ll know as soon as we capture him,” Mira said dismissively. What mattered wasn’t Fuzzy Dice’s secret identity but whether he knew of the orphanage they were looking for.
“Yeah, fair enough. I think we can leave it at that.” Thus, their discussion of the thief concluded.
“Okay, I’d better get moving,” Mira declared, ready to end the conversation. “If anything happens, I’ll call you again.”
“Well, if you’re heading to your next destination right now, I guess you won’t be home for a while…” Solomon said, stating the obvious. He sounded a little sad.
“Well, no. That’s true. What? Are you lonely? Hmm? Is that it? Hmmmm?” Mira lifted the receiver back to her face and smirked. Her friend was alone, unable to leave the capital as he pleased, and she was happy to give him a little more of her time.
“Oh, not me,” Solomon continued sadly. “Your poor wife is, though.”
He’d apparently heard recently from Cleos, Mira’s acting Elder, that Mariana constantly asked when Miss Mira would come home. Cleos would answer, “Sooner or later, surely.” When Mariana asked where Mira had gone, however, it forced Cleos to admit that Mira was visiting the Ancient Underground City. And worse, that—depending how her trip went—she might have to head to the lowest level.
Admitting that was a mistake. The Ancient Underground City’s lowest level was notorious in the Linked Silver Towers, especially for the strength of the Machina Guardian within. Long ago, when the Nine Wise Men had finally started to take shape, they’d attempted the battle to test their skills. They’d ended up retreating in tatters. That was their first—and last—raid-boss battle.
In hindsight, they’d been inexperienced back then. Still, they were the Nine Wise Men. It was a big deal that they’d been so thoroughly trounced together, and it remained a sore spot.
As such, when Mariana learned that Mira had gone to the Ancient Underground City, she was horribly worried. And knowing that Solomon had sent Mira there, Mariana got awfully prickly around him, he added with a grumble.
“Goodness. Mariana…”
Mariana was a very competent aide. She was good at housework, as well as kind, polite, and considerate. Yet she, of all people, was being snippy with the king himself. Mira found it cute how Mariana got riled up about her. If she’d said she wasn’t happy about it, it would’ve been a lie. Still, she couldn’t shrug off the fact that she was worrying poor Mariana. Perhaps, Mira began to think, she should go home.
Just then, Solomon said a few numbers to her. “Zero nine zero five. Got that?”
“Hm? Zero nine zero five?”
“Yep. That number connects to the Tower of Evocation. ‘Nine’ is for the nine towers, and ‘five’ is because it’s the fifth tower clockwise from the Tower of Sorcery.” Solomon kindly explained the meaning of the number he’d given Mira. It was one she could use with the communicator. However far away she was, she could use the device to communicate with Mariana in the Tower of Evocation. “Call her once in a while, if you want. I mean, please do. It’d help me out.” Given Mariana’s usual kindness toward everyone, Solomon felt her surliness even more acutely.
“Thank you. I’ll make sure to call her after this. Can’t let her worry too long, after all.” Mira couldn’t care less if Solomon was lonely, but Mariana? She had to make sure the poor girl wasn’t concerned. The summoner planned to contact her soon.
“By the way, if you could mention casually to her that I paid out of my own pocket to get her a good military-grade communicator so you two could talk, and that this isn’t my fault… You know…” Solomon was making an unusually direct request.
That was because it had become common knowledge throughout the castle that poor, sweet Mariana was being curt with him. Her rudeness, in turn, led to rumors that Solomon did something legitimately awful to her. He was desperate to put out the fire.
“Hrmm… Well, I might, if I feel like it. Anyway, I’m going to call her. Later.” Indifferent to his needs, Mira began putting down the receiver, prioritizing her next duty.
She heard Solomon insist, “Make sure you do, please!” just before she hung up and caused his voice to fade.
After finishing the call, Mira took a breather for a moment, then picked up the receiver again. At that point…
“Mira…Mira! What was that about a wife I just heard? Tell me! Shouldn’t he have said ‘husband’?! His name is Mariana? He’s a man, isn’t he? But ‘Mariana’ is a woman’s name. Is she your wife?! Mira, tell me! Tell me what’s going on!” Martel’s voice, even more excited than usual, echoed in her brain.
“Martel, please! I made you promise before you linked with Mira that you’d interfere with her private life as little as possible,” the Spirit King warned her quietly.
Once a fire was lit in Martel’s heart, however, even the Spirit King would struggle to put it out. “But, Sym! Mira—a girl—has a wife! Aren’t you interested?!”
“That isn’t the issue right now. Goodness, you’re a handful… When it comes to love, I don’t know what to do with you.” In his opinion, Martel was obsessed with talking about love—no matter who the couple was, in fact. Indeed, the more complex the circumstances, the more fired up she got. “Sorry, Mira.”
With that, the Spirit King gave up on reining Martel in. Even he had to throw in the towel eventually, and Martel battered Mira with questions like a nosy old gossip. The mental image made the summoner chuckle drily to herself.
“Uh, Mariana and I…” Mira managed to calm the eager Martel when she began to explain: Mariana was her aide and helped out with Mira’s needs, so “wife” was just a joke Solomon had come up with.
“Oh. That’s all? That’s a shame…” Martel now seemingly understood that Mariana was nothing but a helper and that nothing special existed between her and Mira. Her enthusiasm died away at once, and she fell silent.
Mira was relieved when Martel’s voice stopped echoing in her mind. I think that calmed her down. Damn you, Solomon.
That made her recall Solomon’s words: “Your wife.”
Solomon had just been teasing her, but Mira didn’t mind the idea whatsoever. Having Mariana as a wife wouldn’t be bad. Far from it, it’d be ideal. Mira fantasized about it, but never said a word about that; she knew it would only reignite Martel’s passion.
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