Chapter 91

Leaving behind the actress who was clearly under some major delusion, I stepped out of the private box.

I had entered as Winter Winslet, but by the time I exited, I was in the guise of Nice Goodman.

The hallway was cloaked in dim light, and to my left stretched a row of unmarked doors.

I made my way to the room at the very end and opened the door.

“What the—! Who are you?!”

The couple inside, caught in the middle of a secret rendezvous, scrambled to cover themselves at the sight of an intruder. But I paid them no mind and walked right past them to the window.

This room, located at the far end of the corridor, was also the booth furthest from the stage.

In other words, it offered a clear view of the entire audience.

I pulled aside the curtains and looked down.

After judging the height, I jumped without hesitation.

Just before landing, I cast a levitation spell.

When my feet touched the ground, there was neither the shock of impact nor a sound.

A skilled mage is also a skilled infiltrator.

On stage, the performance was just beginning.

The opening scene unfolded with a monologue by the lead actress.

The play being performed was “The Knight of Saint Catanzaro”, a drama I’d seen before with Josephine.

And just like Lorelei, the protagonist of that story, tonight it was my turn to play the righteous thief.

Let’s see how things are looking.

I swept my gaze from left to right across the audience.

Box seats lined both sides of the stage from the first to the third floor, and in front of the stage sat rows of regular seats arranged in a fan shape.

Somewhere among those black silhouettes filling the seats were the terrorists hidden in plain sight, disguised as ordinary audience members who threatened the kingdom with their bombs.

Finding them wasn’t difficult.

Caraphine was a pure magical substance.

Highly refined Caraphine would always react to a mana field.

So, I deployed a mana field.

It spread rapidly. Less than two seconds to cover everything from the edge of the audience to the stage.

A mage’s circuit is a deformation of the soul, and a mana field is the outward expansion of the mind.

As the field expanded, mana particles that had been drifting aimlessly through the air began to respond to my consciousness.

At first, they trembled in resistance, but soon they surrendered and allowed themselves to be rearranged under my control.

When that fleeting process ended, every ounce of mana in the theater was under my command.

Such is the power of Winter Winslet. A seventh-class mage and S-rank mana talent.

Around the theater, startled gasps and near-choking coughs rang out.

It seemed there were a few mages in the audience who could sense the shift in the mana field.

But once their domain had been overtaken, they no longer posed any threat to my plan.

Besides, I intended to finish this swiftly and decisively.

Found them.

By focusing briefly on the sensations within the mana field, I was able to pinpoint the location of the Caraphine.

Longsoniere’s men, bold as ever, were exchanging a bag full of Caraphine rods right in the middle of the audience.

They seemed completely unaware of my presence. A clear sign they weren’t mages.

I summoned mana with intent and channeled it into the circuits I had prepared in advance.

Following the path I had laid out, the mana flowed, dispersed, and circulated, then formed into the shape of a basic yet silent attack spell: Wind Blade.

No need for flashy magic when dealing with people.

Just a simple second-class spell.

With this single spell, I would snipe the two spies and seize the bag containing the Caraphine. Mission accomplished.

Sakis Lubas, the second point of the Heptagram Society, would lose all the Caraphine in his possession, and the bombing scheduled to occur several months later would never come to pass.

The kingdom would be safe, and one of the biggest death flags for Winter Winslet that in the original game Judgment of Candela had led to him becoming a target of the Candela Knights would be eliminated.

Would have been, that is.

If only an unexpected complication hadn’t occurred at that very moment.

“You scoundrel! Nice Goodman!”

A shout rang out from a completely unexpected direction.

From a seat right between me and Longsoniere’s men.

A man and a woman had stood up, facing my way.

And the woman, upon making eye contact with me… gave a sly grin.

“Haha! Finally found you, you ridiculous excuse for a name! Be a good boy and accept the aura of Carina Valpenera, punk!”

***

Carina Valpenera beamed as she spoke.

“What did I tell you, Conroy? Didn’t I say I had a feeling we’d run into him if we came here?”

“Don’t lie. You were just slacking off and got lucky. You even brought binoculars because you wanted to ogle some handsome actors.”

“Silence! Don’t tarnish your superior’s dignity!”

Carina stuffed the opera glasses she’d been holding in her left hand into her pocket and continued with a smirk.

“But seriously, are you sure it’s him?”

“Yes. He looks exactly the same as he did at the academy. No doubt about it. That’s Nice Goodman.”

The one who had previously infiltrated the academy to collect evidence of Winter Winslet’s misconduct. Conroy.

He was also the first person to ever encounter the man known as Nice Goodman.

If Conroy vouched for it, there was no room for doubt.

“I see.”

Carina looked up.

Nice Goodman was a tall man in a black coat.

With the stepped layout of the theater seats, she had to crane her neck just to look at him properly.

But the greatest discomfort Carina felt wasn’t because of the height difference.

Her position was Director of Intelligence.

When you spend too much of your life meeting, analyzing, and dealing with people, you eventually develop a sense that lets you infer a great deal about someone from just their breathing or gestures.

And in that sense, Nice Goodman was professionally one of the worst types of people to deal with.

“He’s eerily quiet.”

Less like a person, more like an inanimate object.

He didn’t move unnecessarily. No wasted gestures. No disruptions in his rhythm.

The one saving grace was that, even through the thick mask covering his face, Carina could still observe his eyes.

In the dim light, his calm blue eyes glinted beneath the mask, gazing straight at her.

Is that wariness? Or analysis? Either way, he’s acknowledging me as someone worth talking to.

Feeling the pressure close in on her chest, Carina recalled her family motto passed down through generations of the Valpenera line.

When in doubt, punch them in the solar plexus.

Attack first. Win first. Let’s poke and see how he reacts, shall we?

She carefully selected her opening line. Something fitting for a first impression.

“Why don’t you take off that thick mask and show us your ugly face? Let’s at least exchange names like civilized people.”

“Carina Valpenera.”

“Oh? You know who I am? My fame precedes me.”

“You’re with the Laurencia Bureau of Public Safety. You’re here to track me down.”

The smirk playing at Carina’s lips twitched slightly.

He saw right through me? Don’t tell me that idiot Conroy leaked information?

She threw a sharp glare at Conroy, who frantically shook his head.

So it wasn’t him, huh.

Carina recalled Conroy’s testimony.

He had said Nice Goodman was an agent working for the Empire.

“Damn Imperial bastards. So they’ve already planted a spy inside the Laurencia Intelligence Bureau. That’s how he knows about me, too.”

But instead of being alarmed, Carina found it rather convenient.

If they both knew about each other, they could skip the introductions.

“Alright, let’s play like pros. How about a little chat? Somewhere nice, just the two of us.”

“I refuse.”

“Oh? Did you think I was offering a choice? You’re mistaken. That wasn’t a request…it was a notification.”

Just as she said that, Nice Goodman turned his head away.

As if he’d lost interest—

Carina, infuriated by the gesture, stepped in to block his gaze.

“Well, well. How arrogant. A stunning beauty like me just asked you out on a date, and you dare look away…?”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence.

Whoosh!

A sudden burst of air tore through the scene, and Carina fell silent.

Crash!

A commotion broke out behind her, on the stage.

The first act of the play “The Knight of Saint Catanzaro” was in full swing.

At that moment, the protagonist Lorelai was performing a scene where she climbed a rope to sneak into a corrupt count’s mansion.

But the rope had been abruptly cut—

The lead actress fell mid-performance, and chaos erupted.

The thick rope, once just a stage prop, now showed a clean cut as if it had been sliced by a razor-sharp guillotine.

There was no doubt who the culprit was.

The man spoke.

“Foolish girl. I meant to end this with a single shot, and you had to get in the way.”

Carina touched her cheek, feeling a sting.

A faint smear of blood stained the back of her hand.

It must’ve happened the moment she moved to block Nice Goodman’s line of sight. His magic must have grazed her.

“You bastard… what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her opponent was a mage.

And not just any mage, an expert who could cast offensive spells without incantations or hand signs.

What’s his target? An assassination?

There are plenty of nobles in this theater. It’s practically a buffet for a killer.

Nice Goodman said,

“Step aside. They’ve caught on. They’re starting to flee.”

“You damn brute, are you still not coming to your senses? You know who I am, and you’re still pulling this crap? This is the capital of the Kingdom of Laurencia….not your Imperial living room! Show some damn respect!”

Carina’s blood began to boil.

“Looks like I’ll have to teach this Imperial dog some Laurencian manners. Conroy! Grab him!”

Conroy replied in a booming voice,

“Wait—me?”

“Should I go instead?”

“But I don’t even have a weapon!”

“When I say move, you move!”

At Carina’s furious shout, Conroy reluctantly stepped toward Nice Goodman.

But his legs were visibly trembling.

As soon as Nice Goodman looked his way, Conroy froze like a statue.

With teary eyes, Conroy turned back to Carina.

“I-I can’t do it, Chief…”

“You useless brat!”

In the end, Carina drew her sword herself.

It was a decorative rapier. More ceremonial than practical.

The truth was, Carina could barely handle a sword.

But her opponent was a mage.

Mages are all the same. Slow on their feet and weak in close combat.

Carina stepped forward bravely, hoping she looked confident…hoping it might intimidate him.

“Come on then, bring it on, you lanky bastard!”

And the very next moment—

“Argh!”

Carina was already rolling across the floor.