TCBUP 20

“Do you know anything?”

“What are you talking about? Out of the blue like that.”

“Anything at all. Something strange, suspicious—anything?”

“Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. Revealing a client’s secret would go against professional ethics.”

“But hanging out with me like this isn’t?”

“This is just regular negligence of duty.”

“…”

“Everyone slacks off a little sometimes. Don’t you?”

What kind of nonsense is that?

Well, okay, I don’t work all the time either. I drink coffee, get distracted, sometimes take a short walk.

I do slack off occasionally, but not as shamelessly as him.

<SYSTEM> **Time remaining: 00:34:01**

Ugh, I don’t have time for this.

I turned halfway around, worried that Leon might stop me again, and threw out a snippy remark.

“Anyway, if you’re not going to talk, fine. I’ll be going. You should stop slacking and get back to work too, Leon.”

“Wait, Sienna.”

If it weren’t for Leon, I would’ve run straight to the annex, but I couldn’t do that under his watchful eyes.

Left with no choice, I hurriedly took the long way around.

I glanced back—Leon was standing there, just watching me. He didn’t seem like he was going to interfere or follow, so I ran with relief.

“It’s more like a storage room than a guard post.”

I snuck in through the window opposite the entrance and looked around.

Wooden crates and items covered with white cloth were piled up everywhere.

“Why put a storage room here? Guess these aren’t valuables?”

I lifted one of the white cloths.

It was an oil painting of a sunset—striking hues of red, orange, and yellow.

“Wait, I know this painting.”

I’d definitely seen it at a museum before.

I’m no art expert, but it was so impactful I remembered it instantly. Later, I heard it had been stolen.

“An art auction, maybe?”

I covered the painting again and opened a nearby box.

Inside were several small wooden boxes stacked neatly.

Without much thought, I picked one and opened it.

A huge pink diamond necklace immediately lit up my vision.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen one this big. Looks like it has some history.”

On closer inspection, the clasp was slightly rusted.

The problem was—it looked familiar.

The teardrop-shaped pink diamond, surrounded by a flurry of tiny diamonds… Where had I seen it?

“Damien. What’s that necklace?”

“Hm?”

“The one your mother’s wearing in that portrait.”

Ah, that’s it.

I’d seen it in a portrait of Damien’s late mother at the duchy. I’d foolishly begged to have it, but was told it had been stolen while she was away at a countryside estate recovering.

It was something she had cherished, and her loss had devastated her. The former Duke had searched high and low for it, but it was never found.

“They say stolen goods do resurface.”

So it was real.

Unbelievable. The building I share with Knox is being used for crime.

Just in case, I pulled off more white cloths. There were more paintings, sculptures, even ceramics.

It felt like a treasure hunt, so I opened more crates.

This time, they were filled with stacks of cash.

“One, two, three, four… My god, how much is this?”

They stole this building practically for free, and now they’re raking in money.

Maybe I should take some and make up for the loss.

Just as I reached out with a mischievous grin, footsteps echoed outside.

Then came a creak as the rusty doorknob turned.

“Gasp.”

My heart dropped.

There wasn’t enough time to escape through the window, so I quickly threw a white cloth over myself and posed like a statue.

The door opened, and I heard men talking.

“We’ve moved most of it.”

“Good. Finish before midnight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Midnight? That lined up roughly with the mission timer.

I had a hunch this was connected, so I listened more intently.

“We might hit our target sooner than expected.”

“Yes. All we had to do was mention that Her Majesty and Prince Widrow would drop by occasionally, and people went nuts spending money.”

“Of course. There’s always someone desperate to build connections.”

“Wouldn’t it help if they actually made an appearance?”

“No need for that. They’re busy people.”

So the nobles invited here were clinging to nothing, duped into pouring out their money.

“What if we expand to commoners? These days, even they make good money. I heard the owner of this building is a commoner.”

“What nonsense. How dare commoners dream of surpassing nobles in wealth.”

“What does it matter? Thanks to them, we got this fine building for dirt cheap.”

These bastards.

Over 90% of the empire’s population are commoners, and you mock them?

You think you’ll be nobles forever?

You’ll pay for it someday.

“Oh, and did you hear? The Duke of Ortiz is here.”

“That was unexpected.”

Their conversation paused as I heard footsteps again and the sound of a wooden crate opening.

I tensed, praying they weren’t coming my way.

“But he’s an upright type. It’s better if he doesn’t know about the gambling den or auction house in the back.”

“Still, wouldn’t he be useful? Reviving the fallen Ortiz duchy so quickly shows he’s capable.”

“Of course Her Majesty is considering it. The Ortiz family has symbolic value as founding nobles.”

Damien had said he didn’t want to get involved in royal affairs.

He probably wanted to avoid the dirty politics. Now that his name came up, I felt a bit guilty.

“But turning him against us by moving too fast would be trouble. Doesn’t his hesitation tell you something?”

“Still, no way he’d side with Prince Aiden. After all the effort he put into rebuilding the duchy, why back a fading prince?”

So from their conversation, I gathered that nobles were choosing sides between Prince Aiden and Prince Widrow—and these men supported Widrow.

Compared to Widrow, Aiden had little influence.

These guys were using Her Majesty and Prince Widrow’s names to scam nobles and stuff their own pockets.

Definitely more of a conspiracy than just exploiting a welfare facility…

<SYSTEM> **Time remaining: 00:27:16**

Still, the system wasn’t satisfied.

What else was hidden?

I was so deep in thought, I didn’t notice the footsteps approaching.

Suddenly overwhelmed by tension, I froze—couldn’t even breathe.

My heart pounded so loudly I thought they could hear it.

‘No…’

A shadow fell over me—someone was about to lift the cloth.

“Marquis Pites, would you come here a moment?”

Just when I thought it was over.

It felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

But I didn’t relax until they left. I held my breath like a real statue.

Finally, the door closed.

I flung off the cloth and bolted to the window.

All I could think was: get out, now.

But just as I climbed onto the sill, something made me stop.

“Ugh, seriously…”

I went back to the stack of crates, pulled out the necklace that had belonged to the late Duchess of Ortiz, and stuffed it into my pocket. Then I hid an empty box underneath the stack to fill the gap, and rushed back to the window.

In my haste, I grabbed the windowsill, hauled myself up—but I bumped against it and ripped my dress.

“What was that noise?”

“Who’s there?!”

“Go check it out!”

They were still nearby. Not just the two from before—other rough voices joined in.

The window I came from was on the opposite side of the entrance, so there was only one escape path.

It felt like I was being cornered, but I had no choice. Clutching my torn dress, I ran.

“Eek!”

I heard heavy footsteps behind me—and then, someone grabbed me and pulled me into the shadows.