Viluoya listened to the system’s explanation about the body forcibly dragging the soul, and for a moment didn’t know how to react.
She touched her arm, then pinched her cheek.
‘Is this body so proactive?’
“Will there be any unexpected situations then?”
Viluoya asked.
[Yes.]
The system hesitated, its tone sounding somewhat complicated.
[Your body’s desire to complete the mission will be very strong. That is, once you catch Nightingale…]
[Your body might involuntarily want to complete that final mission.]
“There’s a final mission?”
[It’s…]
The system hemmed and hawed.
[To make her unable to get out of bed.]
‘This again.’
Viluoya frowned.
She had heard this mission description three times now, but still didn’t quite understand.
“System, what exactly do you mean by ‘unable to get out of bed’?”
Viluoya asked, a bit irritated, determined to get a clear answer.
[Probably… a dual mental and physical exhaustion?]
“Exhaustion?”
Viluoya was even more confused.
“So my mission is to make her participate in some extremely tiring physical labor. Like hauling cargo at the dock until she’s too exhausted to get up?”
[That’s not it either…]
The system’s electronic voice sounded weak and full of despair.
[Host, why do you always twist things in such strange directions?]
“Then what is it?”
Viluoya pressed on, thinking it was a very important question related to the core of the mission.
[It’s an artistic form of punishment.]
Just as the system was hemming and hawing, trying to muddle through, all the lights in the hall suddenly went out.
Darkness surged in from all directions like a tide, swallowing every gorgeous gown and glittering jewel.
Only the “Eternal Star” around Seraphina’s neck on the stage still emitted a faint blue light, like a lonely lighthouse in the deep sea.
A few emergency steam lamps on the walls projected dim light, barely outlining the blurred shapes of the guests.
The guests let out a suppressed gasp but quickly fell silent, as if they were familiar with this situation.
Some guests even began to excitedly discuss it.
“Who will it be this time? The Dark Night Hunter?”
“I bet it’s Miss An.”
Viluoya’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden darkness.
She looked toward the center of the stage.
The phantom thief was coming.
Just as Seraphina was looking around in confusion on stage, a slender black figure silently descended from the shadows of the dome.
The figure landed steadily on the edge of the stage, the sound of heels clicking against the floor clearly audible in the quiet hall.
Tap.
Just one sound.
Everyone’s breath paused for a beat.
The remaining emergency lights cast dim light, barely illuminating the outline of the figure.
A black-violet tailcoat, tailored to fit perfectly, the tails spreading out behind like a bird’s folded wings.
Her legs were wrapped in knee-length black lace stockings, outlining slender and graceful lines.
On her face, she wore a delicately crafted beak-shaped mask, its edges studded with fine amethysts, revealing only the lower half of her face and a pair of unfathomable eyes.
Everyone present recognized her.
It was Nightingale.
The most famous phantom thief of the Golden City.
Other phantom thieves stole precious jewels, showcasing their exquisite thieving skills to the audience.
But Nightingale was different—she stole hearts.
The moment Nightingale appeared before those girls, their hearts were captured by her.
Then she would take away the most beautiful and valuable item from the girl as proof of her visit.
She always told those girls,
“You are as beautiful as your jewels.”
If the jewel you wore that day was of poor quality, no need to worry—Miss Nightingale would also utter another touching line.
“Your heart is much more honest than your jewels.”
No girl had ever met Miss Nightingale and not been smitten.
Even the most straight-laced tomboy would be turned.
But for some reason, this heart-stealing phantom thief hadn’t appeared for over three years.
Tonight, her appearance clearly ignited the enthusiasm of the guests.
Yet they remained quiet.
This was Miss Nightingale’s comeback night.
No one would disturb this elegant bird’s hunt.
The young noble girls below covered their mouths, some fainting on the spot from excitement.
The older noble ladies were more restrained, simply their expressions turning serious.
Nightingale paid no attention to the scorching gazes from below.
She stepped toward the center of the stage, the tails of her tailcoat drawing a smooth arc behind her.
Each step of her boots fell on some invisible rhythm, as unhurried as if she weren’t committing a crime but attending a carefully prepared rendezvous.
Seraphina saw her clearly and froze in place.
Her hand unconsciously pressed against her chest, the blue light of the “Eternal Star” reflecting on her shocked face.
Nightingale stopped in front of her.
The distance between them was no more than an arm’s length.
“Beautiful lady,” Nightingale spoke, her voice low and bewitching. “I wish to steal something from you. May I?”
Seraphina’s lips parted slightly.
Steal something?
You’ve already stolen my heart!
Seraphina’s cheeks flushed bright red.
She opened her mouth, about to blurt out that almost instinctive line.
But Nightingale suddenly raised a gloved finger and gently pressed it against her own lips, making a shushing gesture.
Seraphina immediately closed her mouth, looking at her with a mix of nervousness and excitement, little stars twinkling in her beautiful eyes.
Nightingale seemed pleased with her reaction.
She tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth lifting.
“The night is still long. Patience.”
Those words were like sweet poison, causing Miss Seraphina’s body to go limp, barely able to keep herself from being rude in front of Miss Nightingale.
Below, Viluoya watched this scene.
To be honest, she was stunned for a moment.
Not because of Nightingale’s technique, but because of Nightingale herself.
Even with the mask, the figure standing on the dim stage exuded an overwhelming aura.
The form under the tailcoat was impossibly graceful, the legs in lace stockings long and straight, every movement precise.
She was indeed beautiful.
But that beauty wasn’t a static display like a vase.
It was more like a thorny rose, impossible to look away from.
Viluoya stared for two seconds.
Then, an inexplicable urge surged from deep within her body, instantly washing away that trace of admiration.
Catch her.
Catch that phantom thief.
Viluoya’s expression changed.
Her emerald eyes blazed with fierce determination.
On stage, Nightingale’s fingers had already reached Seraphina’s neck.
Those hands nimbly unfastened the clasp of the necklace, movements gentle as if unwrapping a precious gift.
Seraphina didn’t resist at all.
She slightly tilted her head up, making it easier for Nightingale to remove the pendant.
The “Eternal Star” left its owner’s neck, blue light flowing between Nightingale’s fingers.
Nightingale held the gem in her palm, glanced at it, then unhurriedly tucked it into her bosom.
Viluoya turned to look at the security personnel nearby.
Those uniformed guards, standing upright, were all staring at the stage with burning gazes, their expressions indistinguishable from fans at a concert.
“Aren’t you going to catch her?”
Viluoya frowned.
The nearest guard, hearing this, waved his hand without turning his head.
“Miss Cromwell, this is Nightingale.”
His tone was matter-of-fact.
“This is art, you understand?”
“We don’t interfere with art.”
Viluoya looked at his intoxicated face.
Fine.
This city was hopeless.
[Host, I think what he said isn’t entirely unreasonable…]
“You shut up.”
[ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ ]
Since no one else was moving, she would do it herself.
Viluoya lifted her skirt and began pushing toward the stage.
The guests in the hall were frozen in place, watching this free performance, with no one making way.
A burly middle-aged nobleman happened to block Viluoya’s path, arms crossed, neck craned to see the stage.
“Excuse me,”
Viluoya said politely.
He didn’t hear her at all.
Viluoya turned sideways and gently nudged him with her elbow.
“her——ha!”
(Angry Birds sound effect)
The middle-aged nobleman flew three meters off the ground like he’d been shot from a slingshot, landing on the dessert table next to him with a cake cream smeared all over his face.
“Sorry,”
Viluoya said without looking back.
She kept pushing forward.
One person in the way—elbowed.
Another—elbowed.
Expressionless, she elbowed her way through, leaving a trail of toppled nobles behind.
On stage, Nightingale was about to make her grand exit when her peripheral vision caught an unusual commotion in the crowd below.
Everyone else stood still watching, except for a small figure in a gown who was barreling toward her.
Nightingale recognized that dazzling blonde hair and delicate little face.
Viluoya Cromwell.
As expected, Nightingale stopped.
Instead of leaving in haste, she turned to face the girl approaching from below.
Nightingale took out the “Eternal Star,” twirled it in her palm, then extended her index finger toward Viluoya and gave a slight curl.
A provocatively challenging gesture.
Come on.
Come catch me.
Seeing this, Viluoya quickened her pace.
But Nightingale didn’t give her a chance to get close.
After showing off the “Eternal Star,” she gently placed a black feather with purple edges on Seraphina’s shoulder.
“Thank you for your generosity, beautiful lady.”
With that, Nightingale bent down and took an elegant bow toward Viluoya’s direction, then disappeared like smoke into the dark background of the stage.
“Ah…”
Seraphina touched the feather on her shoulder, her strength drained, and she fainted on the spot.
The servants below scrambled to catch her.
At that moment, all the lights in the hall came back on, the blinding glare making everyone squint.
Then the crowd erupted.
“Oh my god, did you see that?”
“Nightingale was so beautiful! That move when she took the necklace… if only she’d done that to me.”
“Who do you think that last gesture and bow were for? Miss Seraphina?”
“No, no, I saw it—she wasn’t looking at Seraphina; she was looking toward the audience…”
The noble ladies and girls chattered excitedly, their faces more thrilled than if they’d received precious jewels.
Viluoya stood in the crowd she had elbowed open, staring at the spot where Nightingale had disappeared.
Her emerald eyes reflected the newly lit lights.
Nightingale’s final actions replayed in her mind.
Viluoya: ( ᐛ )
“System, was she provoking me?”
[I think so.]
A surge of anger rose from her chest.
[Host, she got away.]
“I know.”
[Host, why is your face red? Are you angry?]
The system asked, somewhat worried.
“I’m not,”
Viluoya said, taking a deep breath and suppressing the rage inside.
She looked down at her slightly wrinkled dress from pushing through people, then at the nobles still crawling on the ground around her.
‘Hmm, a bit unladylike.’
“Miss!”
Liya hurried over from behind the crowd, her expression complicated.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,”
Viluoya said, smoothing her skirt.
Just then, a familiar figure walked over from the side door of the hall.
It was Charlotte.
Her face was a little pale, and the collar of her black suit was slightly loosened.
A thin layer of sweat glistened on her forehead, as if she had just recovered from discomfort.
“Viluoya,”
she said, approaching and scanning her face with concern.
“Are you okay? I heard a commotion, and the lights suddenly went out…”
Viluoya looked up at her.
Under the lights, Charlotte’s black hair was a bit messy, a few strands sticking behind her ears.
Her breathing was a little quicker than usual, as if she’d been running.
“Nightingale came,”
Viluoya said, staring into her eyes.
“Did you see her?”
Charlotte was startled, then nodded.
“On the way back, I saw a figure from afar. Might have been her.”
“What do you think of her?”
Viluoya suddenly asked.
The question caused a subtle change in Charlotte’s expression.
She looked at Viluoya’s probing eyes, then laughed.
She leaned in close to Viluoya’s ear.
“Not as good as you.”
A warm breath brushed against Viluoya’s ear.
The tips of Viluoya’s ears visibly reddened.
She stepped back half a step, her eyes fixed on an unrelated wall lamp in the corner of the hall.
“I wasn’t asking that.”
“Then what were you asking?”
Charlotte straightened up with a smile.
Viluoya didn’t answer.
She turned around, back facing Charlotte, still wearing that expressionless face.
“Let’s go. We’re going home.”
With this incident, the exhibition couldn’t continue.
Charlotte watched Viluoya’s slightly reddened ears and deliberately quickened pace.
She slipped her hands into her suit pockets and followed unhurriedly.
Inside her pocket, a teardrop-shaped gem emitting a faint blue light lay quietly, its temperature blending with her own body heat.
Charlotte lifted her head, watching the small blonde figure walking ahead.
The curve of her lips deepened.
‘My detective lady.’
she murmured in her heart.
‘The game has just begun.’