Chapter 20
“BY THE WAY, if you tried to buy that cloak, it’d cost about three million ducats,” the chief detective added, concluding his explanation of the garment. While it might’ve looked plain, it went for serious money.
“Whoa! I guess that explains their reactions…” Mira said, gazing toward the corner.
The adventurers’ jokes had suddenly taken on a life of their own; at some point, they’d begun playing rock-paper-scissors to determine who’d be declared the cloak’s owner. It really was a bizarre sight.
But if someone had dropped the cloak, shouldn’t it go to the guild’s lost and found? Mira was still considering this as she snapped back to reality and checked the Lock-On M Type-2’s display again.
“Ah…that explains it…”
The winner of rock-paper-scissors was holding the cloak aloft as Mira looked where the target cursor now pointed. Up until then, it had directed her toward the wall with the noticeboard. Now, however, it was clearly pointing elsewhere—straight at the rock-paper-scissors champion.
“Ah…I see… That must mean…” Mira took the Lock-On M Type-2 and began circling said champion. Sure enough, whatever she did, it pointed right at him.
“Um…can I help you?” the champion asked, seeming annoyed by Mira’s odd behavior.
Mira just grinned slightly. “The magical tool I locked on to Fuzzy Dice with seems to be pointing at you.”
Hearing this, the man holding the cloak said, “Let me see!” and dashed over to look at the display. “You’re right. It’s pointing straight at me, isn’t it?”
Hearing this confession, everyone in the room stared at the man. The joy he’d felt in winning the cloak evaporated, and he suddenly shuddered.
“Wait, wait. It’s not me!” he began to insist desperately.
Denying it only made him look more suspicious, and everyone stared more and more pointedly. In the very next moment, however, the stares turned into smiles.
“Well, I get it now. When you think about it, it’s got to be the cloak.”
The cloak had been located where the Lock-On M Type-2 first pointed, and was now pointing at the guy holding the garment. Once Mira thought about it for a second, it wasn’t that hard to figure out that the tool was just reacting to the cloak.
The other adventurers who’d lost the rock-paper-scissors game all realized this, yet still glared at the champion, possibly out of a jealous desire for revenge.
Having obviously realized as much as well, Mira smoothly snatched the cloak out of the stunned adventurer’s hand. She found a table to lay it down on and checked the Lock-On M Type-2 again. Sure enough, the display continued to point unfailingly at the cloak.
Could Fuzzy Dice have disguised himself within the cloak? The thought crossed Mira’s mind, but she considered it unlikely and turned to Wolf as if to ask his thoughts on the matter. The other adventurers seemed to be on the same page; they all simultaneously focused on the chief detective.
“It seems he saw through my plans,” the chief detective said matter-of-factly, staring at the cloak laid on the table. From the way he spoke, he’d evidently expected as much. Then, as usual, he launched into a story.
They’d used the Lock-On M Type-2 to register Fuzzy Dice’s mana so they could pursue him. The magical tool was an older version and therefore had drawbacks, but still worked well. Once it registered someone’s mana, there was no way that person could escape. That said, the tool had a major shortcoming: It simply registered the mana of whatever it hit.
It wasn’t just living things that possessed mana. In fact, plenty of things in nature did. Equipment that granted buffs contained mana as well. The stronger the equipment was, the stronger its mana was, so the Lock-On M Type-2 apparently sometimes mistakenly registered the wrong target.
In short, under some circumstances, a person could completely avoid being tracked by the Lock-On M Type-2 by simply discarding their equipment.
That wasn’t as easy as it sounded, though. The latent mana in equipment didn’t readily present itself, and the device obviously prioritized registering people’s natural mana. To get around this, Fuzzy Dice would have needed very powerful equipment, and who’d want to simply get rid of such valuables?
“That’s where the cloak comes in.”
The chief detective caught his breath, then reiterated the anti-fiend camouflage cloak’s function and gave his conclusion. Since the cloak concealed the wearer’s natural mana and enveloped them in a nondescript mana field, it was like the Lock-On M Type-2’s archnemesis.
Furthermore, compared to powerful equipment that might cost from tens of millions to over a billion ducats, the cloak cost a mere three million. For those reasons, it was the perfect way to escape being tracked by the Lock-On M Type-2.
“Hrmm… You mean Fuzzy Dice already had this cloak on back then?” Mira asked.
If so, at some point, someone had leaked the chief detective’s plan to use the Lock-On M Type-2. That would have to be how Fuzzy Dice had prepared such perfect countermeasures. But how the hell did that information get to him?
Mira remembered when they’d spoken about the plan…and suddenly felt uneasy. Now that she thought about it, they’d first discussed it on the corner of a main street. Could they really have counted on their strategy staying secret when they’d talked about it in a spot like that?
The moment Mira realized this, the chief detective broke into a grin.
Cloak still in hand, he slowly rolled forward toward one of the adventurers, then came to a stop. Staring right at the man, Wolf asked, “There’s something I’d like to ask you. This is yours…right?” As he spoke, he gently offered the man the cloak.
Wouldn’t you know it—the adventurer he’d spoken to began looking visibly anxious. However, he said nothing in response.
The chief detective elaborated: He’d actually gone around to all the stores selling that exact cloak in the days leading up to the heist. More specifically, he’d found a shop that had sold a camouflage cloak in the period between their discussion of their plan and that very night.
“From this gate, go west down the main street a bit, then turn down a side street by a café on the corner, and you’ll find it. It’s called the Survivor Magical Tool Shop, and it’s pretty popular among scouts. I asked them who bought the cloak, and you match their description perfectly.”
It appeared that Wolf had hit the nail on the head. It was more than plain to see that the man felt driven into a corner by the chief detective’s words.
“No way! It’s you…?!”
Since the guild had been sealed off and a barrier placed around it, the likelihood that Fuzzy Dice was still among them was high. Everyone else present knew that too, so one by one, they started casting suspicious glances at the man.
Hrmm. He’s acting pretty fishy too, isn’t he?
Just to be safe, Mira used Biometric Scan to check the guild’s interior. She wanted to see whether someone was hiding someplace, disguised as someone else. Nope—whoever Fuzzy Dice was, he was likely one of the adventurers in the room.
And at the moment, the most suspicious-looking person in the room was the adventurer the chief detective had pointed out.
The popular anti-fiend camouflage cloak was fairly expensive yet sold well. According to the chief detective, though, only one had been bought in the past two days.
Even if plenty of adventurers did pass through the guild doors, the chances that the sole adventurer who’d bought that cloak would just happen to be there at that exact time were slim.
“H-hold on! It’s not me! I…I just…!”
The chief detective’s reasoning was sound, and the other adventurers looked at the man more sharply. Feeling trapped, he stepped backward until his back was at last literally against the wall. “Just listen!” he yelled, feverishly trying to explain. “I… got asked to buy it!”
According to him, a man he’d never met had approached him the night before. He’d asked the adventurer to get him an anti-fiend camouflage cloak as soon as possible. Not only that, he’d also promised him a handsome reward. Since he’d received the money for the cloak up front, the adventurer agreed without a second thought.
The stranger had also paid half the adventurer’s reward up front. He’d promised to pay the remaining half at this exact time and place once the adventurer had delivered the cloak after nightfall to the designated spot. That was why the adventurer had been lingering at the guild.
“Someone asked you to, huh…?” another adventurer murmured, eyeing him suspiciously. The others had more or less the same reaction. They seemed to think the man was coming up with stuff off the top of his head out of desperation.
Mira also felt that his excuse was flimsy. People accused of things often claimed someone else had asked them to do it. That said, would this man really try an excuse like this if he were Fuzzy Dice?
The chief detective apparently harbored the same doubts as Mira. His brow remained furrowed in uncertainty as he listened to the man’s story. Then Mira remembered that Wolf had mentioned Fuzzy Dice giving off a much more bold, intrepid vibe.
If someone had managed to see through Fuzzy Dice’s disguise, it seemed likely that he’d reveal his true form in grudging admiration. At least, that was how Mira thought of Fuzzy Dice.
With that in mind, she examined the man closely—then realized something.
“Hunh. Would you look at that?”
Surveying the other adventurers, Mira grinned as if convinced. However, she maintained her silence, thinking it was too early to disclose what she’d noticed. Fuzzy Dice and the chief detective were locked in single combat; it would be improper for her to suddenly butt into the pair’s duel from the sidelines.
“H-here’s proof!” the suspicious man exclaimed.
Within a veritable sea of distrust, he pulled a slip of paper from his belongings and thrust it at the chief detective. It was apparently an invoice of sorts; he’d evidently been told to bring it to get the other half of the reward.
“Hrmm. Is that a joker…?”
It was half a torn joker card. As the chief detective stared at it, another voice suddenly piped up from among the adventurers: “U-um, so you’re the guy?”
Turning to see who’d spoken, they spotted another man—apparently a very green adventurer. With all eyes on him, he timidly made his way to the suspicious-looking man and took a piece of cardboard out of a small pouch, his shoulders shaking. Right then, a sheet of paper slipped from his pouch and fluttered to the floor, landing smoothly beside the chief detective’s wheelchair.
“Oops, sorry!” The greenhorn rushed over and snatched the paper up. He collected himself before matching the cardboard he’d taken out with the torn joker card that the chief detective held.
“They line up perfectly.”
The two halves of the joker card used as an invoice matched. In other words, the first man hadn’t lied about getting paid to buy the cloak.
To corroborate that, the greenhorn asserted that he’d been asked to give the small pouch to a man with the other half of the joker card at this exact place and time. The greenhorn had also been paid well to accomplish this task, as was evidenced by a sack of gold coins that he held up as proof.
Furthermore, the sheet of paper that’d fallen from his pouch apparently had more specific instructions written on it. When they asked to see it, they noticed notes about the promised reward.
“I’m glad I could get it to you,” the greenhorn adventurer said, sighing in relief.
“And I’m glad you were able to make it,” the cleared adventurer replied, also looking quite relieved. The two both smiled as if proud that they’d accomplished the jobs they’d been hired to do.
Another adventurer suddenly spoke up. “Hey, if he went out of his way to get that cloak, he had to have known this’d happen, right?”
The adventurer meant that, by arranging in advance for someone to show up and exchange the reward with him, the first man could throw off any suspicions leveled at him while lending credibility to his claim that he’d been asked to buy the cloak.
“Hmm. You’re right. This is Fuzzy Dice we’re dealing with, so that’s certainly possible.” The chief detective evidently agreed.
Truthfully, after the cloak was exchanged for the reward, all the suspicion aimed at the first man had utterly evaporated. Furthermore, that meant that everyone was once again equally suspicious of each other. Fuzzy Dice might well have maneuvered to create such a scenario. When asked who had contracted them, the two adventurers said it was someone who’d looked rather nondescript; Fuzzy Dice’s go-to disguise happened to be that of a nondescript man.
Once someone was cleared of whatever suspicions were leveled at them, the chief detective noted, they were unlikely to be suspected again. There was also a good chance that others would naturally remove such a person from their list of suspects simply because they felt guilty for wrongly suspecting them.
“This could certainly have been Fuzzy Dice’s aim all along.” The chief detective fixed his gaze on the cleared adventurer once more, apparently studying him. After a moment, Wolf’s expression changed as he appeared to realize something. “May I ask your job?”
The former suspect cocked his head slightly. “You can tell I’m a swordsman.”
Sure enough, a long, light sword was strapped to his waist, and he was dressed in a swordsman’s typical fashion. Thus, he seemed unsure why the chief detective had asked. Wolf’s next question, however, clarified everything.
Judging from all his past experiences, Wolf elaborated, Fuzzy Dice was most likely a demonologist. “Therefore, would you mind using that sword to dispel my suspicions?”
Since Fuzzy Dice was probably a demonologist, the man just had to prove that he wasn’t a mage. Catching the chief detective’s drift, he made his way to an open space inside the guild. Unsheathing his sword, he unleashed a fighting skill. Only someone who belonged to the warrior class and could fully use their heightened fighting spirit could launch that technique.
“How was that? Did it clear your suspicions?” the man asked the chief detective, turning around proudly and taking a quick look at Mira. He’d shown them the technique casually, but it seemed to be one that he was confident using.
“That was an impressive technique, no doubt about it.” It had been the real deal.
A couple mages wielded swords, but none could use fighting skills. In short, the adventurer was a swordsman, like he’d said, which proved that he wasn’t Fuzzy Dice. The chief detective immediately turned to the man, whose name had been cleared again, and apologized for suspecting him.
The man replied that it was no big deal. Smiling bitterly, he added that he’d probably have suspected himself as well in their shoes. With a laugh, he told them it was water under the bridge, since he’d been handsomely rewarded while serving as a suspect.
At that point, only one adventurer had been cleared of suspicion, so Fuzzy Dice remained hidden among the remaining adventurers. Despite following his lead, Wolf was back at square one. Thanks to the preceding exchange, though, he’d come up with another way of testing suspects.
“I’d hoped to avoid having to test everyone individually and instead unmask the phantom thief in one fell swoop…” The chief detective seemed a bit dejected, but the situation was what it was.
He moved to have the remaining adventurer suspects prove their innocence. It was a simple test: All they had to do was prove that they were in the class that they claimed to be, like the previous man. In other words, each had to show off a fighting skill.
This time, Mira got a bit excited. She knew a lot about skills as a mage and a Wise Man of the Linked Silver Towers. Still, she didn’t quite know everything about fighting skills. She was curious to see which techniques the adventurers would use.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if the test would live up to her hopes. About half the remaining adventurers demonstrated fighting skills similar to the first man’s. In the game, it had been said that the sky was the limit when it came to different fighting skills. But after so many years, they’d seemingly been studied and streamlined to such a degree that a lot of techniques resembled each other.
Well…maybe they just can’t use any really big techniques inside.
They were where they were, and the adventurers just had to use a fighting skill to prove that they were who they said. Still, Mira was a bit disappointed that her opportunity to learn about current fighting skills was over so quickly. That said, the fighting skill the final adventurer showed off lifted her spirits a little.
“Mine’s not quite as straightforward,” the swordswoman prefaced, then asked for Mira’s assistance. She apparently just wanted Mira to throw an apple.
“Hrmm… I just need to throw it?”
“Yes. As hard as you can, please.” The swordswoman nodded, then closed her eyes.
The moment she did, Mira suddenly became aware that the woman had done something. It wasn’t anything Mira could see or feel, and nothing about the woman seemed different from a moment earlier. Yet Mira had a gut feeling that she shouldn’t get anywhere near her.
The other adventurers seemed to feel likewise; a collective chill permeated the room.
At that moment, the swordswoman called, “I leave when you throw it, and where from, entirely up to you.”
Wow. This seems like it’ll be pretty cool! Mira couldn’t help feeling excited. She waited until the perfect moment and even went into one of the swordswoman’s blind spots before, as asked, throwing the apple with all her might.
In the very next second, the swordswoman spun and impressively dodged the apple completely. Not only that, in the very next moment, she whipped her sword from its sheath and sliced the fruit cleanly in two from behind while it still hung in the air.
A man happened to be standing in the perfect spot to catch both halves of the apple. He stared at them before declaring how incredible the feat was: “I’m not sure what to say other than…masterful.”
That technique was apparently a crowd pleaser. The swordswoman hadn’t just shown that she could use a skill that drew on fighting spirit, she’d also given everyone the impression that she was a master of the sword.
Mira also sensed that the masterful technique somehow relied on the fighter having honed her senses greatly. The chief detective himself said that it seemed like a technique a true master would use.
But the swordswoman wouldn’t take the compliments. Instead, she began explaining how the technique was indeed a fighting skill.
“In the village I’m from, they call that Heaven’s Might,” she explained. “Only those without the aptitude to become mages can acquire it.”
According to her, fighting spirit’s application had evolved a bit differently in her village than everywhere else. As a result, villagers there could project Inner Fire outward. Then, just like the swordswoman had demonstrated, they could apparently perceive whatever targets came within a certain range.
I see. It does seem to be a fighting skill, but that still doesn’t mean one can’t call it masterful.
Mages used mana to attack, recover health, and cast a range of support spells. Similarly, warriors used fighting energy for things other than just attacking. But unlike a mage’s spells, which could be used for just about anything, fighting energy was primarily used for stat buffs.
Inner Fire provided precisely that. It was a fighting skill that temporarily boosted physical stats such as muscular strength, agility, and endurance. From what the swordswoman said, there were plenty more fighting skills like Inner Fire.
Right now, I’m up against a mage, but I could certainly find myself facing a warrior at some point.
Mira thanked the swordswoman for giving her such useful information.
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