“It’s supposed to be our job, Miss Lonsday. Yours and mine. Let’s at least go check out the other crime scenes.” “There’s no need. Once we know their ability Type and Category, there are no more deductions to be had.” “…Do people just lose interest that fast?” “That’s exactly what’s happening here.” “But listen, it might get a little more interesting if we check out the other places.” “Bored! I’m done playing detective!” Lonsday shouted as she returned to her third-floor ruin, hurled her discarded jacket onto the sofa, carelessly stripped off her wine-red shirt, and violently plopped her butt onto the sofa. “Really…Thistle? You’ve gotta be kidding me. What a letdown. I thought I’d get to enjoy a good game of deduction, but she’s no different than the usual Unlaw. Norman! Booze! Smokes! Food!” “They should be in that jacket you threw. I have food, though.” “Pour me a drink, put the smoke in my mouth and light it, and feed me. Respectfully, like a knight serving his queen.” “I don’t think knights do that sort of thing.” “They do in my kingdom.” “…Long live the queen.” Sitting next to her as she assumed a haughty posture, Norman first let her take a sip of alcohol, then put the cigarette in her mouth and lit it, waited for her to take a drag, and fed her the hamburger he’d picked up at the Downey Street restaurant on the way home. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and her sweat mixed with Lonsday’s sweet fragrance. Her tanned curves—hugged by black, daring lingerie—glistened enticingly with sweat. “If you put your hands on me now, no one will find out.” “Of course they will.” “Now that I think about it, we’re free until tomorrow night. Wouldn’t it be fun to indulge in some carnal pleasure for stress relief?” “It’s tempting, but if I get lost in you instead of writing my report, my sister will kill me.” “Ugh…” She exhaled a growl along with the smoke. “That woman pisses me off in every possible way.” “Stop acting like a child. You’re a detective, aren’t you?” “I told you this detective is off duty.” “Even so, she’s still my sister.” “Makes me want to kill her all the more.” “Then please act like my partner and help me write this report.” “Huh?” “We can’t do anything until I interview you for it.” “…Hmm.” She lifted her bandaged right hand to her face and smiled wryly. “I liked how you put that.” “Let me start with a basic premise. Since I met you, I’ve been handling Unlaw cases, and I believe you can profile a person’s character based on the Unlaw abilities they manifest.” Lonsday, still in her underwear, lazily sank deeper into the sofa. “According to Cartesius, there are four Types of Unlaw abilities,” she said. “The Lurking Type, which affects the mind and five senses. The Shapeshifter Type, which allows the body to transform into an animal or something else. The Deviation Type, which enhances physical abilities and either expands or grants new physical traits. The Distortion Type, which warps and manipulates the properties of external objects. You already knew that, though.” “Right.” Those were the basics when it came to Unlaw. They were classifications of pure ability, unlike Categories, which denoted strength. “First, the Lurking Type. These guys are socially awkward and don’t have a good grip on personal space, with largely withdrawn personalities. Their difficulties with socializing vary from person to person. They don’t speak much in public, but when they do open their mouths, it’s just insults and trash talk.” “…” Norman found it difficult to comment on. “The Shapeshifter Type is the most dramatic manifestation of an ability, where the person’s appearance changes completely. But once the ability stabilizes, their inner self remains largely as it was before they became an Unlaw, so if their personality is warped, it was originally that way.” “…” “The Distortion Type is all about affecting others, and true to its name, it tends to meddle with others. Like those people who are strangely overly familiar and love to give orders. That’s the extreme form of it. They can’t stand it when things don’t go their way, so they constantly interfere in the affairs of others and become unbearable.” “…” “The Deviation Type… In other words, me. We tend to be on the extreme side of the value spectrum, and once we get an idea in our heads, we can’t let it go. Maybe it’s because of the usual boost in physical strength, but we think we can handle anything ourselves. We tend to be careless, arrogant, and look down on others. In other words, we have lousy personalities.” “You’re saying that about yourself?” “I have a good face, body, and voice, so the scale is tilted in my favor.” “…” Ultimately, it was difficult to comment on, but Norman got the gist of what she was saying. The way she phrased things had hints of malice, bias, or exaggeration, but oddly enough, that made things clearer. “And what’s more, there’s this,” Lonsday said, waving her carefully bandaged hand. “When we shook hands at the museum, she tried to crush my hand. Why? To provoke me. She must have banked on me not calling her out or making a scene in front of everyone, so she went ahead and did it. Her arrogance was unbelievable. I snapped and crushed her hand in return.” “I heard about that on the way back.” “Oh, right. Well, you know, we were both grinning and bearing it, but only someone with the same physical abilities as me could pull off that kind of provocation. It’s simple.” “I didn’t notice at all.” “…Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you sooner next time. I figured it would heal after a night’s rest.” “That’s a bad habit, you know, Miss Lonsday.” Norman gave her a lingering look as she smiled wryly. It wasn’t until after they left the museum and arrived at the crime scene—the library—that he’d noticed her hand was injured. It had struck him as strange that she’d kept her right hand in her pocket the entire time. He’d immediately taken a wet compress and bandages from his coat and treated her wound. Coming from a family of doctors and having been a medic in the military himself, it came easily to him. What troubled him was that she didn’t mention she was injured. To him, that was a much bigger issue than figuring out who the culprit was. “Heh-heh.” She laughed for a moment while patting her bandaged right hand with her left, like she was caressing a jewel, with a gentle smile—not the usual ghastly one she wore. “Your feelings alone are enough to satisfy me.” “You’re a cheap date.” “No, I’m a high-value woman. I choose my buyers, and the price depends on them. Any other questions?” “What do you think her ability is?” “The ability to pass through solid objects.” “Even though she almost crushed your hand?” “It’s a basic ability for Deviation Types. It’s essentially phasing. She can probably phase through walls, floors, and whatever else she feels like.” “…And why do you think that?” “There was nothing at the crime scene.” Lonsday took a bite of her hamburger, then used her fingers to swipe the sauce off her lips—the way she licked her fingers was oddly enticing. “Relax, Norman. I’m sure of this.” “And why do you think that?” “Because we’re up against Phantom Thief Thistle.” “Huh?” “Hee-hee-hee.” She laughed mockingly at him, her single lock of red hair swaying. “No, you don’t need to get it. Just stick to admiring jewels, not blossoms, hounds, or fairies.” “Sigh.” She was putting on a performance. Well, that wasn’t anything new. “Miss Lonsday, if you know that much about them, can’t you do something?” “Aren’t you listening? That’s why it’s such a buzzkill.” Her mood had seemed to brighten, but it quickly soured again. “Listen here, Norman,” she prefaced. “I got my hopes up after seeing that warning, enough that I would have been fine with them being a normal human. I thought I’d be able to play a game of deduction with someone eccentric enough to call themselves a phantom thief. But what was the outcome? Something like phasing, without an ounce of strategy. Give me back my hopes.” She said her piece, then flopped back and took a swig from a bottle of liquor. “Hmm, isn’t that just throwing a tantrum?” “I said I don’t have to be the one to do this. Oh, I heard you were going to the capital with Fairy next week. How about going with me instead?” “There’s not much I can do about that. By the way, I only heard about that the day before yesterday, so how do you know?” Norman didn’t know how to answer her, so he evaded the question. She deflated more quickly than he expected. While he mulled over his options… “I understand the part about the abilities…but why are they a phantom thief?” “Huh?” “I mean, wouldn’t you be better off sneaking into a bank with that ability?” “That’s the arrogance of a Deviation Type. She was taunting the police, after all. Or maybe it’s a hobby…” She suddenly trailed off. “Miss Lonsday?” She leaped up and put her hand on her chin. “…Why?” Lonsday softly murmured the most crucial question when dealing with an Unlaw. “Why become a phantom thief? They could have robbed a bank if money was their aim. Was it to hone her powers? But she had mastered them from the very first incident. Was being a phantom thief itself the goal, like a hobby? But it’s strange she provoked me at that exact moment. Why would a fool who wants to be a phantom thief reveal their own identity? Arrogance from being a Deviation Type? Or if we follow the logic of a Deviation Type—” The flow of words suddenly stopped. “Norman.” “Yes?” “I changed my mind. I’ll take on the phantom thief myself.” A smug smile spread across her face—like she was a completely different person from the one who had seemed so apathetic earlier. “Oh? Is the detective making a comeback?” “No, this detective is still on hiatus…or maybe not? It is detective work, in a sense. Heh-heh, this is getting a little interesting. Good job, Norman. I praise you for asking the right questions.” “I don’t think I said anything out of the ordinary.” “That’s fine. As long as you’re my partner.” Lonsday stood up, looking satisfied. “We’ve got a lot to do. First, let’s deal with that diamond. We’ll have Leonard work on it.” “He’s going to give you that pissy look again. Speaking of diamonds… I hear this one has a curse on it.” “Hmm?” “The Blood Diamond was just a normal, large diamond, wasn’t it? Do you know why they call it the Blood Diamond?” “Because it’s been bathed in blood, right?” “Yes.” It was complete nonsense, the kind of tall tale you hear often. The jewel in the Bardium Museum brings death, or something like that. It was apparently mined near the borders of certain countries, and there was a struggle for it between the two countries that caused numerous deaths. It continued to be a coveted prize afterward, and people died in the struggle for it. Hence, the name “Blood Diamond”—a diamond bathed in blood, shining with the blood it absorbed. “I was surprised to find there were actual deaths connected to this diamond, even in Bardium, like the person who oversaw its transport to the city and the one who arranged for it to be displayed in the museum. I don’t know if there’s a connection to the phantom thief, but there might be more deaths if we look into it further. It’s a cursed diamond.” “Nonsense. It’s a jewel with value and history. Of course people fought over it and died. The curse is just people assuming things based on a chain of facts. Money alone is reason enough to kill, and people die easily.” “I guess you’re right about that.” “I don’t need to tell you since you’ve been to the West.” “Fair enough.” Norman shrugged haphazardly. It was a subject he didn’t want to revisit. He wanted to dig deeper into the mystery of the diamond, but wasn’t keen on discussing the Western Front, either—so he steered the topic in a different direction. “What do you think of the diamond itself? You don’t hate it, right?” “I don’t mind it as a work of art, but I don’t need it as an ornament.” “And why do you think that?” “Because any jewel pales in comparison next to me.” She laughed, like a jewel gleaming brightly. “Now then, let’s solve ourselves a mystery.” The phantom thief, Thistle, quietly sank into the floor. It felt like diving into mud; however, the mud solidified according to Thistle’s will, letting her walk through it as she pleased. With a light movement, she phased through the museum’s roof from its rooftop. Incredibly, she could breathe inside the material and felt no pressure on her body. Her vision wasn’t functioning, but she could still somehow sense the presence of humans. She phased into the second floor of the Bardium Museum, inside the largest exhibition space. In the center of the spacious hall was a single large display case. She didn’t use any smoke bombs because she knew who was there. She could somehow sense the presence of a human and one of her own kind—a tall, brown-skinned woman. Her black hair had a single streak of red mixed in, and she was a striking beauty who smoked her cigarette with all the grandeur of a stage actress. She wore a men’s shirt and trousers with one leg cut off, her jacket slung over her shoulders. Her right hand held a lit cigarette and was carefully wrapped in bandages. The boy was about the same height as the woman, his gray hair tied in a ponytail behind his neck. His felt hat and coat, as well as his dopey expression, reminded her of a small animal. His features were well-proportioned, and he seemed like he would be more popular with older women than someone his own age. They were Lonsday Enhancedia and Norman Hamish. “Normally…” Lonsday wasn’t surprised when Thistle suddenly appeared out of the ceiling. “I’d explain how I arrived at your identity and show off my powers of deduction…but it seems unnecessary this time, and is this even the place? We’re in a museum.” “Heh-heh, I don’t mind.” The phantom thief couldn’t help but answer her blunt words in a cracked, elderly voice. Norman’s eyes widened in shock. Surprised that they hadn’t revealed her true identity, Thistle removed her mask. Lonsday grinned at her exposed face. “I expected some wicked woman, but it’s that wicked old hag, Filzy Mule.” “Heh-heh-heh, I guess we’re two of a kind, huh, girlie? Didn’t tell them about me, did you?” The phantom thief’s peculiar, convulsion-like laugh came from the face of an old woman. The tailcoat, cape, and silk hat tailored to her small frame seemed to clash with her age, but they were the very image of a classic phantom thief. Her name and face lingered faintly in Norman’s memory—she’d been at the museum the day before, one of the people with Inspector Oliver. “…Didn’t see that coming.” Norman was shocked for two reasons: One, the thief was an elderly woman, and two, someone her age was an Unlaw. In the past year and a half, he’d seen his share of Unlaw, but never one this old. His experience told him that most awakened to their abilities in their late teens or twenties. Of course, there were outliers—the oldest he knew of was around fifty years of age—but this woman clearly surpassed that. Filzy Mule looked well into her seventies. “Who we are doesn’t matter, not for people like us.” “Oh my. You’re a detective, so I was hoping for some deductions like yesterday.” “You’re one to talk.” With the same hand the phantom thief had crushed yesterday, Lonsday gripped her cigarette tighter. “Hmm. I figured it would be healed already since we’re alike.” “Ha, of course it’s healed already. But—” Lonsday smiled and added, her eyes warm, “The bandage is a good-luck charm.” “And a cheap one.” Norman played off his slight embarrassment with a casual shrug. “Heh-heh-heh, young’uns sure are passionate.” “You’re pretty funky for a granny. What was that warning about?” “Oh, that… That was a disappointment.” Filzy sighed, her shoulders sagging with a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if to say nothing had gone how she imagined. “I gave so many obvious hints, and no one noticed a thing. They missed five identical hints. You were the first to realize, Detective.” “I’ll agree with you that the cops were a disappointment. Seriously underwhelming.” “I didn’t really get it myself,” Norman piped in. “That suits you just fine. A detective’s assistant should be a little thick.” “I can’t say I feel complemented there.” “Heh-heh-heh.” The old woman laughed, then glanced past Lonsday and Norman at the display case. It was empty. “Did you take the diamond somewhere? I wasn’t told anything.” “Of course I did. The curator was prattling on about Bardium’s honor, planning to face off with you by planting decoys and rigging the showcases.” “It’s laughable. When the phantom thief was right in front of him… Well, I guess he had his pride.” Norman didn’t really follow. He hadn’t been informed about the diamond’s relocation since Lonsday had pulled strings and arranged it through Harrison, but Lonsday keeping him out of the loop was nothing new. “It’s simple, Norman. Remember the people gathered around the diamond yesterday? Besides the detective and curator, there were three women and a middle-aged man in work clothes. The women—this old hag here included—were academics, and the man was a locksmith.” “And why do you think that?” “They were expecting the phantom thief. There was no way the museum would let outsiders in once they’d deployed security. The fourth man obviously wasn’t a security guard. So what was he doing there? He was obviously dressed for work. Given the timing, he was probably setting traps or reinforcing the case’s lock. The women were professionals. They were setting up decoys to trick the thief and testing if they passed muster.” And… “All of it was just for show.” “Aren’t you the clever one?” Filzy’s eyes shined with yearning. “When you showed up, I wanted to laugh out loud.” “Instead, you crushed my hand.” “That makes us even, dear. To become like this at my age, you have to have some fun. Though I broke a lot of things in the beginning and had to take some time to recover. Was it like that for you, too?” “I wonder.” “Is your assistant just a normal human?” “Well, yes, he is.” “I see. What a shame.” “Don’t worry. There are plenty of people like us in this city.” “Ah, that sounds nice.” She smirked. The longer the conversation went on, the wider the curve of her smile grew, like a bowstring pulling taut. Norman felt the air crackle sharply. He felt it—but didn’t do anything in particular about it. “You seem like more of a veteran monster. How nice. I envy you. How many of our kind have you played with?” “I’m not sure. There’s some I remember, and some I’d rather forget.” “That sounds nice. I wish that were me,” the phantom thief repeated, completely unbothered by the fact the diamond in her warning letter was missing. “I was thrown for quite the loop when I got this power. My children had left the nest long ago, and my husband died in the war. With nowhere else to go, I came to Bardium and ended up like this.” Bardium. A city with no wind, surrounded by walls. A place where winds, each carrying its own reason, came to settle. “After my power stabilized, what do you think came to mind next?” “What you could do, then how much you were capable of.” “Heh-heh-heh!” The quick reply made Filzy keep laughing. Her smile was unceasing, detached from everyone, deviating from the norm. She’d surpassed humanity—and taken the initiative to enjoy it. “But playing at being a phantom thief out of a novel is far too simple and not fun at all. Hiding my power and pretending to be a normal person is incredibly stressful.” “Of course it is. We can easily blend in, but we’re monsters at heart.” The Deviation Type was most suited to living in ordinary life out of all the Unlaw. Since they were constantly using excess physical abilities, as long as they were able to control them, they were able to blend in. Of course, they couldn’t truly integrate. “Oh, I get how you feel, thief. That’s why I came.” The Jewel, usually detached from everyone, was laughing. The Unlaw woman kept laughing. “We’re just alike.” “Detectives commit sacrilege by dissecting, explaining, and demolishing the facts to arrive at the truth. So let’s compare answers. What motivated you? Why become a phantom thief?” Lonsday took a deep breath and said decisively, “You just wanted to use your abilities to the fullest. The thieving wasn’t the point. The warning letters were. Crimes committed by physical abilities and phasing powers that didn’t fit someone your age. You wanted someone to interfere. Yes, you wanted a playmate.” The smile never left Lonsday’s face. Filzy was smiling, too. “That’s why you picked this fight, didn’t you? You were like a naive kid, wanting to see how the detective would react. It’s laughable, but I get it. I had a similar phase before meeting this guy.” So… “I’ll play with you. I’ll join you in your second youth.” “Heh-heh-heh!” The air warped—not with bloodlust, killing intent, or fighting spirit. Nothing like that. It was probably instinct or a strong, primal urge to unleash her abilities to the fullest. Lonsday knew this would happen. That was why she hadn’t revealed the identity of Phantom Thief Thistle once she understood her motive. Who she was didn’t matter in the end. They were both Unlaw. Birds of a feather. It was a battle between equals: two outcasts crossing paths for a moment. Once that began, there was no stopping it. “Norman Hamish!” Lonsday shouted, her eyes gleaming brightly. “The detective in me says she’s the monster! The rest of me asks if I can devour this monster! Well? Can I? Answer me, human!” Her shout made the air itself tremble. Her fist clenched as she waited for Norman’s answer—as tight as it could possibly go. So Norman answered her, as a rite of passage between Lonsday and himself. Faced with an intense harbinger of violence that would make the average person keel over on the spot, he touched his felt hat in an almost indifferent gesture, and addressed the beast about to explode: “Yes, go ahead. Enjoy yourself.” His words were the signal. “Ha-ha! I’ll give you your last rights, you old hag who doesn’t know her place!” “Heh-heh-heh! I’ll enjoy this, you brat who doesn’t respect her elders!” Two Deviation Type Unlaw. Two monsters, exposing their abnormalities. Driven by nothing but the madness of wanting to enjoy them. Norman caught a deep, low, resounding sound. It was the sound of Lonsday’s middle kick and Filzy’s fist crashing into each other. “Ha-ha-ha!” “Heh-heh-heh!” Raucous laughter filled the air as the beauty and the old woman fought fiercely. Hand-to-hand combat that utilized the physical abilities of Deviation Types was an exchange of speed and super strength. Each jab feint carried the power to crush a person’s skull, and a serious kick to the torso could rupture organs—they traded such blows at the rate of multiple times per second. Battles between Deviation Types of this caliber didn’t happen often—even Norman, who had seen many Unlaw during his year and a half in the city, had only seen a handful of the like. “Heh-heh-heh-heh!” The old woman in the tailcoat hopped around with a rictus grin. She flailed her short limbs with acrobatic movements—more like a child swinging their arms around restlessly than someone trained in martial arts. However, her attacks would be fatal for an ordinary person, for whom it would be impossible to anticipate, evade, or block. “Ha, your moves are as childish as your mind!” Lonsday moved like a dance, carefully evading the chaotic attacks with her fists raised in front of her. It resembled boxing but was her own self-taught style, using her long legs for kicks. She used her fists to block Filzy’s attacks and countered with kicks while evading. “Surprisingly clean moves you’ve got! So even monsters train?” “The slums are a good teacher!” Lonsday’s smile changed as she drove a kick into the phantom thief, who fell back to avoid it, landing on a thick, plush carpet. And… “Thrud Thistle Snatch!” The carpet warped—and the old woman shot forward several times her previous speed, using it as a springboard. “Whoa…?!” Lonsday unconsciously bit down on the cigarette in her mouth from the pain in her abdomen. The fabric covering her left side was torn, and the flesh beneath it gouged. In a sudden burst of speed, Filzy phased past Lonsday’s defenses to touch her—but no matter how she accelerated, it shouldn’t have been enough to gouge out flesh like that. When he saw that, Norman cried out in shock: “She’s applying her phasing powers to—” “Are you dumb, Norman? More importantly, look closer! A cosplay granny is flying toward us like she’s been shot out of a cannon, cackling like crazy! It’s Cosplay Catapult Granny!” “Heh-heh-heh! That’s the deal!” When the Cosplay Catapult Granny, whose right hand was soaked in blood touched the wall, the wall warped. Lonsday’s mind grasped the reality of the situation in an instant. Two things became clear to her. First, the attack phased through matter and stole the material it passed through, which was the same as phasing through a showcase or safe and stealing the treasure inside. That was why all of the crime scenes were undisturbed. The other thing was how Filzy was speeding up. She used her ability to begin sinking into the floor, creating tension in the matter, and then used the recoil to launch herself back out of it. She used her ability skillfully, simultaneously using two variants of Category Three abilities. Logically, thinking in terms of material permeation meant squeezing one’s body through the material. Deviation Type abilities affected the user’s body and logically shouldn’t have affected other things, so it must have been her own legs that were warping—but logic and reason didn’t hold with Unlaw. The power to believe became reality. Clothes were the most obvious example. If she could phase through material, she could also phase through her clothes and end up naked each time she used her abilities. But that didn’t happen to Filzy. She likely perceived her clothes as part of herself and had a clear mental image of how matter permeation worked. “You’re getting too carried away, old head!” “Heh-heh-heh!” She jumped and bounced over the floor, the walls, and the ceiling, then continued to accelerate by creating tension with her ability. Her laughter rang from every direction like a dance. “Do you think you’re dancing, Phantom Thief?” “Yes. This is the dance of death between you and me!” With a thunk, the air shook. It was the maximum acceleration Filzy could withstand, thanks to the physical prowess being a Deviation Type gave her. The moment she charged forward, riding the wave of it, Lonsday saw her laugh unrestrainedly. She was reveling in letting her ability shine to the fullest. Nothing more. The freedom to do what someone pleased went together with pleasure, especially if they were putting their life on the line. Lonsday understood that feeling and wanted to experience it herself—but… She turned her eyes to Norman Hamish, who was standing still as ever. The old woman and I are alike. Deep down, we share the same kind of craving. But the difference is that blockhead standing over there. “I’m different than you.” You’re doing what you please. But the difference is, I’m fulfilled. “Thrud Thistle!” The moment Filzy’s hand met Lonsday’s chest— “Anvilcel Maiden!” The phantom thief’s hand shattered with a wet crunch. “Heh…heh?” “Here’s a little lesson for you.” Her hand had definitely touched Lonsday’s chest—yet it shattered, reacting as if she’d driven her fingers into something incredibly hard. But Filzy had touched Lonsday’s left breast. Nevertheless, her hand had been undeniably shattered. The phantom flower that should have been untouchable—wasn’t. “When abilities collide and interfere with each other, the stronger one wins. That’s all there is to it.” An ability that surpassed stealing a heart by phasing through matter… “D-did you harden your body?” “Close.” The brown-skinned beauty smiled. “Very close. It looks the same, but the reality is different.” Her grin stretched so wide it seemed like her lips might tear. “…!” The old woman jumped back, her instincts kicking in despite the pain. She activated her ability and sank straight down, phasing through to the first floor like she had when she first appeared. Phasing through wall after wall, she moved along the connected route of small exhibit rooms. “Huff…huff…!” Her breathing echoed in the dark, quiet exhibit room, both her reason and instinct alike sounding a warning. “…Heh.” Still, what welled up in the back of her throat was a dark joy. Filzy had escaped to the first floor without thinking, but her phasing ability gave her the upper hand in the labyrinth-like space. Exhibits lined the room. She knew their value from the work she did and had helped maintain many of them. Even Lonsday would find it difficult to move freely in the cluttered space. “I’m not done yet,” she whispered like someone in a fever dream, and a moment later— “Wha—?!” She instinctively looked up at the loud crash from the second floor. “…?!” “Ha-ha! Miss me?!” Lonsday reappeared, smashing through the wall behind her and blowing away the exhibits, along with the stone and wood that had been a wall. “…?” Then she caught sight of something strange—on Lonsday’s hands and feet, there were faintly glowing red patterns that resembled tattoos. But she didn’t have the luxury to ponder what they meant. With a grin fit to tear her cheeks apart, Lonsday seized the shocked Filzy’s neck from behind. “Ha-ha-ha! Let’s take a museum tour, shall we?!” With Filzy still pinned to the wall, Lonsday smashed through it. She tore ahead, ignoring the walls and route and destroying everything in her path, Filzy still in her grasp. “D-damn you…!” The pain didn’t matter. Her phasing had reflectively kicked in, and she was able to ignore all the damage other than to her neck. The issue was— “Gah… Y-you! Look what you’ve done to the exhibits…!” Lonsday had leveled everything in her path. Each piece there easily surpassed Filzy’s annual income, and Lonsday had destroyed them all while swinging Filzy around. She had to have known what she was doing. “Ha-ha-ha! Are you dense?! Don’t go complaining when you’re the one who started this here! If it was so important, you should have picked somewhere else!” Swords used in battle a millennium ago. Coins said to have been in circulation two millennia ago. Weapons forged from the remains of extinct animals, of which only a few existed in the country. Statues chiseled by artists whose names went down in history. Original manuscripts inscribed by ancient philosophers. Even the museum itself was a centuries-old historical building. All that value and history, crushed underfoot. It had taken all of ten seconds for the wind that personified chaos to tear through and destroy the entire first floor. “Oops. If I go too far, he’ll scold me again.” “Guh…?!” There was a sensation of weightlessness. Filzy was hurled upward and onto the second floor before she knew it. “Oh, you’re back.” She locked eyes with Norman, who was frozen in place, for a moment. There was no shock or confusion. “What the—?!” Just before she crashed into the ceiling, her left hand was pulled back. She hadn’t even realized something had wrapped around it. It wasn’t just any random object. It was the bandage that had been wrapped around Lonsday’s right hand. Her wrinkled eyes opened wide. Deviation Types could apply their abilities to their clothes as extensions of themselves. The ability worked as long as you considered your clothes part of your body. Otherwise, you’d risk being naked every time you used your ability. However, it wasn’t just something that could be pulled off on a whim. To perceive an item as part of yourself required deep focus and strong emotional attachment. But… “That’s just a bandage.” “Is that what it looks like?” Lonsday’s smile morphed from wild, monstrous laughter into a gentle, human smile. “That’s the difference between you and me.” We’re alike. “Too bad for you, I’m a clingy woman.” But different. “Anvilcel Maiden!” Lonsday reeled in the bandage. “Gah?!” A fist harder than steel drove into the face of the phantom thief. Filzy was completely unaware of the change Lonsday’s body had undergone. “Anvilcel Maiden!” It was the expansion of Lonsday’s density. She wasn’t hardening her body but increasing her body’s density, which gave her hardness and made her heavier. She was now dozens of times harder and weightier than steel, the floor and carpet beneath her likely cracked. Despite her compressing several tons of mass into a human shape, she experienced no slowdown from weight or the laws of physics—her form was just as heavy, hard, and strong as she desired it. “Ugh…gah…!” The phantom thief fought back, even with one hand bound and her face smashed in. She phased through the wrapped bandage and attempted to steal Lonsday’s body with her right hand. However— “…!” “Ha-ha-ha! What’s wrong? Laugh, Phantom Thief! You can’t use your age as an excuse anymore!” Filzy couldn’t phase through the ultra-dense flesh. She only scraped its surface. Of course, Lonsday still felt the pain. Her density had increased, but her pain receptors were the same size. But she was still laughing. “Let’s have a chain death match.” Neither of them could defend anymore; consequently, the attack from their fellow non-human landed with full force. However… Naturally, the Jewel had the advantage. “Ugh…ugh…guh…!” “Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Lonsday’s fist landed again and again—jab, straight hook, uppercut, blow. A barrage with her left fist. The old woman’s attacks might have been better described as a desperate struggle rather than a counterattack. The next blow almost sent Filzy flying, but the bandage yanked her back, and another blow landed. The old woman’s body leaped, rebounded, and leaped again. “You like to dance, huh? Dancing is something you do together!” The phantom thief danced. The detective laughed. Despite the pain and injuries, the smile on her face never left—a ghastly smile covered in blood. Laughing in the midst of corruption, the diamond of greed—Enhancedia—grew stronger. She was a detective who used pretenses, cover-ups, schemes, and plots to uncover the one truth from many mysteries. The Anvilcel Maiden (Unsullied Gem) pointed to the truth. “Guh…!” The Jewel’s fist knocked the phantom flower’s teeth loose. “S-stop—” “Stop?! Ha, what are you talking about now?! I caught you red-handed for trespassing and burglary! I’ll overlook the assault and attempted murder since I did the same! You’re an old hag, right?! Don’t you know?” The beauty laughed. “You shouldn’t steal other people’s things!” Another blow to the face, then a large, downward blow that struck the thief’s head and sent her flying. “Ugh…guh…!”
Chapter 13
30 min read