Choose the right moment to act!
No Marauder could guarantee that every theft would succeed, not even one with divinity, not even the true god of this pathway!
Only by choosing the right time and setting could they maximize their chances of success.
His latest attempt was a case in point:
If Duke Negan had not held a ball, giving Baron Percival a chance to slip him into the ranks of the temporary servants, a Sequence 9 Marauder... could never have entered the heavily guarded ducal residence.
Even if he had managed to get inside, he would have struggled to evade the patrols of guards and Beyonders and locate the study in that enormous mansion.
Lorry had made it this far thanks to two factors.
First, Baron Percival had secretly provided a map of the residence, allowing him to plan a relatively safe route in advance.
Second, the grand ball had drawn away most of the residence's guards, including its Beyonders, leaving the other areas poorly defended.
But even then, without Qilingus's assassination attempt prompting the Church of Storms' cardinal to summon a gale and rush to the rescue, Lorry could never have slipped into the study under the noses of two Beyonders far stronger than himself, even with the Shadow Ring, a Mystical Item.
Objectively speaking:
Sending a Sequence 9 Marauder into a duke's study to steal something was, in essence, an utterly preposterous proposition.
And now that preposterous proposition had become reality...
Timing, circumstances, luck, and outside help-all had been indispensable! A problem at any stage would have doomed the theft to failure.
"And my Marauder potion has been digested considerably..." In the washroom, Lorry gazed at himself in the half-length mirror, delight in his eyes.
It was a feeling difficult to describe in words.
The potion's lingering mental influence had been expelled, and his body and mind were more closely aligned, allowing him to better control the potion and wield the powers of a Marauder.
"So the progress of digestion depends on the difficulty of the theft?
"If I kept doing the sort of petty theft I did as a pickpocket, it might take months, half a year, or even a year to slowly digest this much.
"But stealing from a heavily guarded ducal residence only took one attempt."
Amid the splashing water, Lorry murmured speculatively, "Perhaps a Marauder should be bold enough to attempt more difficult challenges?"
"Hmm... I'll leave that undecided for now. I need to test it in practice."
Lorry took a deep breath, set aside the matter of acting for the moment, straightened his brightly colored waistcoat, and left the washroom for the banquet hall.
He had to see things through. He could not leave the ducal residence yet.
Otherwise, once the household noticed anything amiss, all suspicion would fall on a temporary manservant who had suddenly disappeared.
The banquet hall.
Baron Percival leaned anxiously against the second-floor railing. Though his gaze rested on the empty dance floor below, his thoughts were elsewhere.
Storms above!
That Vice Admiral Hurricane is far too bold! He actually dared to come to Backlund alone and attempt to assassinate someone as important as Duke Negan!
And he even managed to escape!
What's more, Duke Negan is actually a powerful Beyonder!
He was utterly shaken.
When it happened, Baron Percival had been chatting with acquaintances a short distance away and had witnessed the entire assassination attempt.
Quite a few fragments of the crystal chandeliers had flown toward him.
For a moment, he had thought that before his great undertaking to revive the Percival Family could even begin, he would have the misfortune to die as collateral damage at Vice Admiral Hurricane's hands!
Fortunately, someone had intercepted the fragments.
Letting out a long breath of relief at having survived, Baron Percival recalled the task he had given the little pickpocket, and excitement quickly surged in his heart again.
This assassination attempt couldn't have come at a better time!
Everyone in the ducal residence is focused on Vice Admiral Hurricane now. I hope that little pickpocket isn't too stupid to seize this perfect opportunity.
Of course, he has to die. Once I get the three documents...
As Baron Percival considered his next steps, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He immediately grew alert and restored his worried expression.
He turned and saw Baron Ruth, with whom he had once been on reasonably good terms.
"May the Goddess protect us, Percival. I saw you standing not far away just now. You weren't hurt, were you?" Baron Ruth asked with concern.
Baron Percival shook his head slightly.
"No.
"I just had a bit of a fright."
Baron Ruth patted his own chest in a rather ungentlemanly manner, indicating that he felt the same way. He glanced around and asked:
"Shall we leave together?
"I saw the duke enter the small conference room with Earl Hall, the prime minister, and the others. I doubt the ball will continue."
Social etiquette in the Loen Kingdom favored understatement.
For instance, after an unexpected incident like this, Duke Negan, as the host, could not publicly announce that the ball was over. It might be construed as throwing his guests out.
Nor could the guests ask their host whether the ball would continue.
The proper course was to leave quietly.
Once all the guests had departed, the servants would come to clean up the aftermath.
Baron Percival considered this, then nodded.
"All right.
"Let's leave together."
Ten that evening.
Five soli for a single day's work. The ducal household certainly has money to burn... Lorry inwardly remarked as he accepted his day's wages, putting on a delighted expression.
He had already returned his waistcoat and changed back into the clothes he had arrived in.
Once all the temporary servants had received their pay, they formed a long line and were personally escorted out through a side door by the assistant butler.
"Remember to keep quiet on your way back.
"This is Empress Borough," the assistant butler reminded them in a low voice.
The crowd dispersed, moving silently in different directions.
Soon, only Lorry remained.
He instinctively raised a hand to feel his pocket, a trace of hesitation surfacing in his eyes. Two minutes later, he walked two streets farther and approached a carriage.
"To East Borough."
The carriage slowly set off.
Lorry watched the crimson moonlight outside the window, remaining silent the entire way. Only when the driver told him they had arrived did he seem to snap out of his reverie and give
a murmured acknowledgment.
The driver looked back and asked, "Shall I stop here?"
"No." Lorry shook his head. "Keep going. To Sanson Bar."
This was the meeting place Saul, the Hunter, had told Lorry about yesterday. He had said he would wait here with the formula, the pounds, and the antidote.
"The formula... the pounds... the antidote...
"Will they really be there?"
Amid the creaking of the wheels, Lorry gave a self-mocking smile, then drew a soft breath. As he gazed at the crimson moonlight outside, a shadow passed through his eyes.
Having his life in someone else's hands truly felt awful...
Time passed.
The carriage stopped on the street opposite Sanson Bar.
After paying the fare, Lorry jumped down from the carriage, glanced around, and strode toward a homeless man leaning against a public bench. He tossed him a coin.
The homeless man froze briefly, then reacted swiftly, reaching out to catch it.
"Sir?"
He looked at Lorry in confusion.
Lorry chuckled and handed him all the coins he had just received as change, then took a note he had prepared earlier from his pocket.
"Take this into that alley and give it to a gentleman named Saul.
"These pennies are part of your payment.
"When you come back, you'll get the rest, which will be even more."
"All I have to do is deliver it?" The homeless man glanced at the dark alley a few dozen meters away, then at the coins in his palm. Mustering his courage, he nodded firmly.
He took the note and jogged toward the alley.
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