"Uh, hi there, Mr. Hunter," Shea—no, Rico—tried to wriggle free from what looked like clotheslines or tangled wires. Sadly, without her Light Blade, there was no way to cut them loose.
If she used the Light Blade, Abel would instantly know Shea was Rico. So she had to slowly loosen the ropes, buying time with chatter.
"I told you not to run."
Abel brushed ashes off his hands. That fierce wind earlier wasn’t natural—it was a scroll spell. With all his weapons locked in the Spatial Ring, his options were limited.
"Big brother Hunter, my dear brother, could you untie these annoying ropes? I’ll take you to the ring right after," Rico cooed sweetly. She was like a cat tangled in yarn, getting tighter with every struggle. Begging for Abel’s mercy was her only hope.
"I steal just to eat. Look, I’m only a tiny Starry Rank. Even if you free me, I can’t escape."
Starry Rank? She did look the part.
Admittedly, this thief had flair—her gliding night suit was creative, even if it snagged on ropes.
But Abel wasn’t holding back out of spite.
It was how Rico looked now, bound in ropes.
There was a strangely tempting beauty to it.
Like a Holy Maiden’s last struggle before evil. Rico was a thief, yet undeniably stunning.
Abel believed no noble would refuse her. Some might spend every gold coin to own her.
Yet Rico never bowed for gold. She stole with her own hands, refusing to be a noble’s toy—a loyal, self-reliant girl.
Tougher than the Lucky Cat living with him.
Still, he needed his things back.
Especially that Lost Empire Soul Crystal.
"Big brother Hunter, my sweet brother, please let me go. I won’t dare cross you again. You’re a good Hunter—you wouldn’t waste time on someone small like me."
Shea kept pleading, but her words held little sincerity.
Her pitiful look could melt many men. Abel, flesh and blood, felt his heart stir.
He almost thought taking this dead white cat home wouldn’t be so bad.
Of course, Abel only daydreamed.
He was a Hunter with a conscience.
Sadly, Shea’s conscience was tiny.
In those few minutes, she’d fully slipped the ropes. Time to escape.
Shea discreetly ignited a smoke bomb. Its mild toxin stung eyes, forcing tears—much like tear gas from her past life.
"Alright, I’ll just—what?!"
Abel, lowering his guard to untie her, got hit on the head by a falling smoke bomb. Thick, irritating gas blinded him. He lost sight of her instantly.
Shea bolted into the distance.
"Bye-bye, big brother Hunter! I’ll keep your stuff safe!"
Amid cheerful laughter, Rico’s voice faded away.
When Abel finally cleared the smoke, she was long gone.
"Huh... underestimated her."
He rubbed his stinging eyes. Unprotected, they couldn’t handle such harsh fumes.
If only he’d grabbed her—ropes and all—instead of chatting.
Honestly, Abel regretted it.
Beauty was the ultimate deception.
Remembering Rico’s face, he felt a pang. No wonder so many wanted her alive.
The highest bounty was five million—astronomical for small towns.
Yet this Phantom Thief Lico never sold herself to nobles.
Abel had seen many people. Under enough temptation, even the purest would break.
"Still, a rather lovely first meeting."
He sighed, heading home.
Pity—he’d been too busy admiring beauty to retrieve the ring.
Its contents were dangerous; he needed them back soon. But...
The moment he saw her face, his heart raced.
High EQ called it love at first sight. Low EQ called it lust.
Someday, he hoped to talk properly with this Phantom Thief.
Meanwhile, Shea—already home and back to her black-haired self—quickly scrubbed away scents. She tossed the night suit into Abel’s Spatial Ring.
Washing it here was impossible with Abel around. She’d handle it later at the Orphan Haven in the Slums.
After cleaning up, Shea made breakfast.
Weekends were quiet.
By the time breakfast was ready, Abel returned from the Slums. They sat silently, eating without a word.
Shea broke the silence. "Where were you last night?"
"Me?" Abel paused. "Chasing Phantom Thief Lico. You know her."
"I know."
Shea nodded. Of course she knew—she was Lico.
"Perfect, Shea. What do you think of Lico?"
Noble-controlled rumors painted Lico as a villain. Abel wanted a commoner’s view. Shea might help.
"Uh..." Shea froze. Was she judging herself?
"Well," she chose carefully, praising herself: "Miss Lico’s good. She only steals from nobles, never harms commoners. I’ve heard she gives the money to the poor."
*The poor—like me.*
"You see it that way..."
"Yeah. What about you?" Shea countered, curious about this Hunter’s thoughts.
"Me? Honestly... I might like her a little."
"Oh~ You just want to strip her, right?"
"How’d you know?"
"...Pfft!"
Thinking he joked, Shea nearly spat milk in Abel’s face.
