While gaining a new skill was great and all, another realization struck like a splash of cold water.
"I have to lay low for now."
Even before the black market incident, the na Faceless Imposter had been quietly circulating in the underworld. After that fiasco, it wasn’t just whispers in the shadows anymore—it spread into the noble circles of the North.
Fa has its perks. But notoriety? That was a double-edged sword, sharper on the wrong side.
The truth was, I’d already paid the price. Just to hide the lingering wound from that fight, I’d had to burn through a ridiculous amount of money importing top-grade healing potions.
And worse, my timing, my movents—even showing up in the wrong place too often could draw a line straight back to . For now, I had no choice but to keep my head down and play the harmless servant: Julius Evans.
"Anyway," I muttered, leaning back with a sigh, "Alice’s birthday will keep busy enough. Once that storm passes, I’ll wait for the right mont to move again."
The fortunate thing about infamy? Unless you’re branded as a traitor or the enemy of a nation, people’s mories fade. The underworld thrives on the latest scandal, and nobles love their next juicy piece of gossip. Given ti, even a na like mine would start to fade.
And when that happened... that would be the right mont to act.
I tested my footing on the carpet, raising my leg and stomping down firmly.
—Silent.
The floor didn’t so much as whisper. Not a creak, not a shuffle, not even the dull thud that cloth should’ve allowed. Just absolute silence.
The difference was clear. This wasn’t just training anymore—this was the result of the skill I’d awakened during the final showdown with Alice.
----
[Skill Acquired]
[Phantom Step]
Rank: EX
Class: Assassination Thief (Exclusive)
—A transcendent form of movent that erases presence itself, turning every step into a blade hidden in silence.
• Greatly reduces chances of detection while sneaking, hiding, or assassinating.
• Landing the first strike after being revealed applies a unique damage bonus.
• Massively increases evasion potential, with higher effectiveness after reading enemy patterns.
• Counterattacks scale more brutally with Agility, punishing mistakes without rcy.
• Heightened perception reveals signs of enemy fatigue during drawn-out battles.
----
The rank alone made grin.
EX Rank.
An evolution of Ghoststeps—my old S-rank skill. Sothing so rare in the ga that only a handful of chosen characters, including the protagonist himself, had ever unlocked it.
I flexed my hand, still smiling faintly.
"This will make things much easier," I whispered. "No—this changes everything."
True to its Ex rank, the effect was undeniable—every movent I made carried a lightness I hadn’t felt before, as though my own body had been sharpened, refined. My senses were clearer, my balance smoother, and even the smallest gestures seed deliberate.
It wasn’t just growth—it was transformation. The kind of power-up most people would never experience in their lives.
I leaned back in my chair, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips.
At this rate, the system itself might start begging to raid the nobles’ hidden vaults. Why stop at their treasuries when I can run circles around their guards, too?
But my grin faded almost as quickly as it ca.
"...Alice’s birthday."
That thought sat heavier than expected.
What could I possibly give her?
Flowers? She’d dismiss them as aningless trinkets. Jewels? She already had more than enough, and besides... she wasn’t the type to be dazzled by shiny stones. Alice Draken wasn’t a woman whose heart could be swayed by clichés.
Her tastes weren’t like those of the other noble ladies I’d seen. She valued strength, cunning, and authenticity—things far rarer than roses or gemstones.
"...Then what?" I muttered, tapping the armrest in thought.
Sothing practical? Sothing symbolic? Or sothing personal enough that it couldn’t be bought, even with the Frost family’s wealth?
The problem was, anything too shallow might feel insulting. But anything too bold... well, that ca with its own risks.
I sighed, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling. "It’s not like I can just walk into a shop and ask, ’Excuse , what do you have for an aspiring Empress with a terrifying glare and sharper instincts than most generals?’"
Still, one thing was certain—if I was going to give her sothing, it couldn’t just be an object.
It had to an sothing.
And more importantly... it had to be sothing only I could give her.
"...Sothing only I could give her."
The words echoed in my head, heavier the more I repeated them.
I drumd my fingers against the armrest, frowning. What did that even an?
I wasn’t so craftsman who could forge her a custom blade. I wasn’t a poet who could spin flowery verses to make her blush. Hell, I wasn’t even her equal in station—I was her servant, her shadow.
So what could I give Alice Draken, the noble lady grood to be Crown Princess, the woman who’d one day sit beside the Emperor himself?
My lips twisted. "Damn it... in the end, the only thing I really have is ."
And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it?
Alice wasn’t looking for flattery or empty gestures. She was surrounded by sycophants every day, people who smiled sweetly to her face while whispering behind her back. She had jewels, dresses, rare books, enchanted artifacts—everything money could buy.
But what she didn’t have... was trust. Genuine, unpolished trust.
That’s what she’d begun to take from , piece by piece, whether she realized it or not. Every sparring session, every sharp word exchanged, every sidelong glance that lasted a second too long—it all built a fragile bridge between us.
And maybe that was my gift.
Not an object. Not sothing she could lock away in a vault.
But the certainty that no matter how much the nobles plotted, no matter how often her so-called "allies" shifted their allegiances, there was at least one person who would et her as she was.
Alice Draken, not just the Draken heiress.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and let out a quiet laugh. "...Tch. Romantic nonsense. I really am losing it."
Still, the thought wouldn’t leave .
It wasn’t that I wanted to give her —it was that I wanted her to see that my loyalty wasn’t painted gold or sealed with a contract. It was real. Unshakable.
But how the hell did you wrap that up as a birthday present?
-----
While her servant was lost in his own thoughts elsewhere, Alice Draken sat alone in her chambers, the soft glow of a magic communication orb illuminating her pale features.
"It’s been a while," she said, her tone cool but precise.
The voice that answered was relaxed—far too casual for speaking to a duchess. "What brings you to contact ? You don’t usually call just to check in."
Normally, Alice would have bristled at the lack of honorifics. Alia could get away with it because of friendship, Gareth because of enmity—but few others had the standing to speak so freely.
This one did.
"I propose a deal, Lady Voss."
There was a pause. "...Oh? That’s unexpected."
Alice continued, her voice steady. "My birthday is coming soon. I heard you’re planning to visit the North to celebrate."
"Yes," Lady Voss replied, almost carelessly. "That’s true."
Her answer was indifferent, as though the notion of celebrating Alice’s birthday was nothing more than another tireso obligation between noble houses.
But Alice wasn’t reaching out for the sake of hollow congratulations.
She hadn’t lit this orb to fish for affection.
"So, what does Lady Draken want?" Voss asked at last, her tone shifting toward curiosity.
"I want information," Alice said. "On the Phantom Thief."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to draw blood.
"...The Phantom Thief?"
The change in her voice was imdiate—gone was the casual disinterest. In its place ca a weightier tone, threaded with suspicion and keen interest.
Alice’s lips curved faintly. Much better.
Had the infamous na pricked her pride? Or perhaps, as the newspapers suggested, was it because the thief had humiliated the Voss Ducal family itself?
"He appeared in the North," Alice continued smoothly. "For the sake of the North’s security, it’s necessary to gather information before the damage spreads."
It was a lie, of course.
The North’s safety mattered—but not nearly as much as her own pride, not nearly as much as the humiliation she’d swallowed that night.
If I trace his collaborators, I’ll uncover his identity. And when I do...
The cold edge of vengeance glinted in her eyes.
"In return," Alice said at last, her voice low and deliberate, "if I succeed in capturing him, I will hand him over to the Voss family. Entirely."
The bait hung in the air, gleaming sharp as steel.
For the Voss family—who had already suffered at the thief’s hands—such an offer was irresistible.
---
Author Note:
Thank you for reading the Chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.
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