Will didn’t consider himself a thief.

After all, he never stole from ordinary people. He only targeted the wealthy, especially the nobles who came to the middle district for leisure.

That was why his actions among the common folk were usually referred to as—

Robbing the rich to help the poor.

Of course, Will was robbing others of their riches to address his own poverty.

Take that couple he had targeted earlier, smugly flaunting their affection in the middle of the main road. At a glance, Will knew they were clearly from the upper district’s elite families.

They might even have ties to royalty, maybe even held noble titles.

Although their attire was modest, their every movement radiated elegance and dignity.

Having roamed the middle district for ten years, Will had become adept at spotting the wealthy.

And once again, this time proved he was right. Will had picked the perfect target.

Exploiting his familiarity with the district’s layout, Will effortlessly shook off the clumsy couple.

Before he lost them, though, he heard the man yelling something about lightning and tornado—

Heh, delusional!

"I’m already past the age for those fantasies, and he hasn’t even outgrown them yet."

That was Will’s honest assessment of the man who’d face-planted into a pile of cardboard boxes.

Once he’d put enough distance between himself and the pair to ensure they weren’t tailing him, Will found a quiet corner. He pulled out the wallet he had just pilfered.

A cascade of golden coins spilled out, nearly blinding him.

“Holy smokes, look at all this money! I wouldn’t earn this much in twenty years as a warehouse clerk.”

Will chuckled smugly. “I knew I couldn’t be wrong this time. This has to be some of those royal bastards stealing from us common folks again!”

He was about to pocket the spoils of his “noble cause,” but then paused, his mind going back to something a mysterious man had told him:

"Kid, you want to join the Lionheart Association? Pull off something big, and let’s call it your initiation."

An initiation.

Will understood how this worked.

Back in the days when he was running with the street urchins, the eleven- or twelve-year-old youths also formed their own little gangs. If you wanted to join, you had to pull something impressive enough to serve as your proof of loyalty. Otherwise, forget about it.

The Lionheart Association, as whispered in rumors, was a revolutionary group founded by none other than the Empire’s former most powerful Dragon Slayer, Leon Casmode.

Its members were said to be individuals with the courage to defy destiny.

Sure, the Empire labeled them as guilty of “treason” and “insurrection,” but everyone knew exactly how the Empire treated its people these days.

Having heard of Leon Casmode’s legendary exploits, Will had always wanted to join the Lionheart Society.

The problem was that the organization was so secretive. All Will knew, after all this time, was that a certain “beggar” named Nacho, who lurked around the middle district, might be a member of the Lionheart Association.

So Will had been posturing and proving his loyalty in front of Nacho for ages.

But Nacho always brushed him off with halfhearted responses.

Not this time, though—

Will weighed the wallet full of gold coins in his hand.

“This initiation token is more than enough. Nacho, let’s see how you try to reject me this time.”

Just as he was gleefully basking in self-satisfaction, a male voice came from above him.

“Well, kid, seen enough? If you’re done gawking, hand my wallet back.”

Startled, Will looked up.

There, standing on a low wall, was the man whose wallet he had stolen. Arms crossed, the man stared down at him with a smug expression.

Will instinctively stepped back two paces, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Damn it... how’d he catch up so fast?”

The problem wasn’t just how fast this guy had tracked him down—it was the fact that he had managed to show up so silently, catching Will completely off-guard.

For someone who prided himself on being a “master phantom thief,” this unsettling development created a hint of pressure.

“Hah, you want it back? Let’s see if you’ve got the skills to make that happen.”

With that, Will spun on his heels and prepared to bolt.

But just as he took his first step, a tall silhouette emerged in his path.

Her black hair swayed in the breeze, her posture straight and proud, her arms crossed.

Though expressionless, her piercing silver eyes exuded an overwhelming sense of authority.

Will swallowed nervously and quickly switched direction, dashing toward another route.

Roswitha, walking leisurely in her heels, remarked, “Seems he’s not one to give up until he hits a dead end.”

Leon jumped down from the low wall, his hands on his hips, as he stood beside Roswitha. Both of them fixed their gaze on Will’s retreating figure.

Leon squinted slightly, gauging the distance, and said, “Should we keep going? Pretty sure I’ve already won.”

“Don’t trip over your own arrogance,” Roswitha retorted.

“C’mon, I found him first earlier! If it wasn’t for giving you your fun, I’d have ended this game ages ago.”

The queen rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not over until it’s over. Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched. Let’s keep going.”

With that, Roswitha proceeded down one path, while Leon, smiling, headed in the opposite direction.

As for Will, he continued running as fast as he could.

“Seems like I underestimated these royals. They’ve clearly had training—no other way they could’ve caught up so quickly!”

Realizing this, Will pushed himself to run even faster, determined to leave them in the dust.

Unfortunately, the so-called “master thief” found himself was outplayed this time.

A few minutes later, Will darted into an alley.

Just as he thought he’d finally lost the pair, a familiar voice echoed from the corner ahead.

“Done running? Why’d you stop?”

The moment the words landed, Leon stepped out into view, blocking his path.

Will gritted his teeth and turned to flee.

But his escape route was already cut off by that black-haired woman.

The couple closed in, trapping him like two slices of bread enclosing the cheese in a sandwich.

Left with no choice, Will pressed his back against the alley wall, his shifty eyes darting between the two of them. He wanted to ensure neither would get the drop on him.

Little did he realize, these two didn’t even need such underhanded tactics to subdue him.

They strolled toward each other, finally standing shoulder to shoulder as they turned and stared at the cornered Will.

“Looks like I win,” Roswitha declared.

“Don’t talk nonsense. I got here first,” Leon countered.

“Let’s settle it with rock-paper-scissors, then?”

“Bring it on. As if I’d lose to you!”

Thus, a scene so bizarre that it threw Will for a loop unfolded.

These two lunatics—who had so effortlessly caught up to him—had enough composure to start playing rock-paper-scissors right then and there.

Are these people even human?

What could I f**king do?

Taking advantage of their distraction, Will glanced toward the mouth of the alley and spotted someone—a person who might just save his life.

“Nacho! Nacho!!” he shouted desperately.

Nacho, who had been casually wandering the middle district while disguised as a beggar to gather intel, immediately felt a headache coming on when he heard Will’s voice.

Why won’t this kid leave me alone already?

“Nacho!”

Will rushed toward him like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. Once in front of Nacho, he quickly pulled out the wallet he’d snagged from Leon.

“Look, look at this! I stole it from someone from the royal family. Can this count as my initiation to join the Lionheart Association?”

Nacho glanced down at the wallet, his expression freezing momentarily.

This wallet... why does it look so familiar?

“The ‘royal’ you’re talking about... where are they?” Nacho asked.

“Over there! It’s those two!” Will pointed back toward the alley.

The couple paused their game of rock-paper-scissors to look in their direction.

When Nacho saw Leon and Roswitha, he was momentarily at a loss for words. His expression, hidden beneath his disguise, was a mix of shock and resignation.

Leon and Roswitha, meanwhile, were equally stunned to see Nacho.

What was he doing here?

The three of them exchanged glances, none of them speaking.

Finally, Will broke the silence.

“Hey! You two were full of swagger earlier! Why so deflated now?”

“...Hey—” Nacho tried to quiet him.

But Will either didn’t hear or ignored him, continuing his smug speech.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a member of the Lionheart Association, dedicated to robbing the rich to help the poor! If the two of you leave quietly and pretend this never happened, maybe when Leon Casmode leads us to overthrow the Empire, we’ll leave you with a bit of inheritance.”

“Leon... Casmode?” Leon repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course! What, haven’t heard his name before?”

Leon smirked. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”

“That just proves how ignorant you are!”

Leon: ...

“In any case, all you need to know is that Big Brother Leon will lead us into a new era. That’s all.”

“Will, for the love of everything, I’m begging you to stop talking,” Nacho pleaded.

“What? Oh, right, right. Secrecy is key. I shouldn’t be spilling organizational secrets, I get that.”

Will, however, couldn’t resist adding with a sly grin, “But they already know who we are. Shall we—”

He made a slicing motion across his neck.

Nacho pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily.

“Seriously, kid, shut up already.”

“What’s the problem?” Will scratched his head.

With a heavy sigh, Nacho slowly raised a hand and pointed toward Leon.

“He’s not from the royal family.”

Will blinked, his puzzled expression deepening.

“Then who is he...?”

Before Nacho could reply, a large, scarred hand clapped down on Will’s shoulder from behind.

Will’s small frame jolted visibly, a shiver running down his spine as goosebumps broke out all over.

“I’m Leon Casmode. Now, about that wallet… can I have it back?”