They found their way to Nokia Merchant’s Guild Hall, a stone building with a golden coin over a crossed fork and knife emblazoned above the entrance, across from some huge tavern that seemed very popular amongst the locals. The sign above the establishment read The Gilded Hog, fitting for a town of wild boar fight rings, and even from across the street, the scent of roasted meat and drunk meathead was palpable.

  Of all the places they could park their wagon, they chose this one.

  Flies buzzed around discarded bones and crushed tankards, leftovers from whatever revelry had spilled out of the tavern. And the smell. THE SMELL. Why am I a table with a sense of smell? A pungent blend of sweat and ale wafted through the air, seeping into the very fabric of his existence.

  Whoever decides to park here must pay for their crimes. Rob… Rob! I pray some drunk come out and vomit on your leg.

  Truly, I was born to suffer.

  Lena leaned forward from her seat, squinting at the scene. “That’s the guild? Why the fork and knife?”

  Anders, still in the driver’s seat, folded his arms. “If we find a better target inside the city, we might shift plans, but yes, that’s one of our stops.”

  Ducaz, perched on the edge of the wagon’s railing, barely seemed to hear them. His eyes darted from the guild hall to the street corners, up to the windows, then back to the guards. He didn’t seem to blink the whole time.

  Rob caught his expression and tilted his head. “What’s got you looking like a skittish fox?”

  Ducaz flashed her a grin but didn’t stop scanning. “You don’t wanna break in later?” He gestured toward the hall with his chin. “Then you need to learn the pattern of the guards.”

  Why do you insist on illegally breaking in? Just pretend to be some merchant and have a look around.

  Lena blinked. “The what now?”

  “Their rotation, their habits. How long they linger, where they look when they’re bored. Who’s actually paying attention and who’s just here to collect a paycheck.” Ducaz leaned forward, nodding toward one of the guards. “See that guy? The one with the thicker belt and shinier boots? Probably the shift lead. He’s the one they follow.”

  Rob followed Ducaz’s gaze. “And that one by the door?”

  Ducaz clicked his tongue. “Already half-asleep. Bet you ten coppers he won’t notice if someone walked right past him.”

  “Do you think that shift lead is the most capable of them all?” Anders asked.

  “Possibly,” Ducaz replied.

  Blorbo, meanwhile, silently fumed. The real crime here wasn’t the heist. It was the fact that Ducaz still hadn’t sat down on him.

  Anders jumped from the wagon. “Let’s see how good that guy is.” His landing didn’t make a sound.

  Lena blinked. “Wait, what?”

  But the old man had already moved through the street.

  It didn’t look like he’d done anything special, but Blorbo’s Skill Appraisal caught the line of status over his head.

  [Feather’s Drift—Basic-level Spell—Level ???]

  The way he walked wasn’t just quiet—it was unnatural, like the wind itself was carrying him forward. His coat didn’t sway. His footsteps left no disturbance on the dirt road.

  Sure. You make no sound. But how do you expect to not get noticed walking like that?!

  Then, ANOTHER spell was cast on top of the earlier spell, and another line of text added atop the existing line.

  [Mimic’s Frame—Basic-level Spell—Level ???]

  His posture shifted. His shoulders squared, his chin lifted, and suddenly—he looked like he belonged. He didn’t move like a suspicious thief. He moved like a man who had every right to be there.

  Rob narrowed his eyes. “That’s...?”

  Ducaz’s smirk faltered. “A disguise without a disguise,” he muttered.

  Lena whispered, “Is this Exchange magic?”

  “More likely Structure,” Ducaz replied.

  “How do you know?” She asked again.

  “Experience. Watch.”

  Then, another spell was cast.

  [Paid in Apathy—Basic-level Spell—Level ???]

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  And he just walked in. Blorbo felt a strange urge to just not care. If he hadn’t paid attention to the old man since the beginning, he would’ve looked away.

  Lena had already turned her back against Anders and started petting the cat. She looked like she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to watch.

  The shift lead didn’t glance at him. Not once.

  Anders walked past the dozing guard.

  Nobody stopped him.

  Ducaz’s grin was completely gone now. “Wow.”

  Anders made it all the way to the guild hall’s outer wall before stopping. He turned slightly, met their eyes, then tilted his head and mouthed, Well?

  Rob exhaled. “That’s absurd.”

  Ducaz leaned forward, studying Anders as if trying to figure out the trick. “No way that’s just a Beginner-level technique.” Then he mouthed at Lena. “Your Dad is something else.”

  “Huh?” Lena turned around. “Where’s he now?”

  Anders had vanished inside the building. He walked out about ten minutes later with the same unbothered posture as when he’d walked in, shrugged, and shook his head. Still, nobody paid him attention.

  [Stealth detection failed. PER too low.]

  What do you even mean, System? He’s right in my line of sight—Wait. Where is he?

  Blorbo was still panicking over the system’s blatant lie when—

  “Well?” The old man’s voice rang out behind him.

  Anders was already back in the driver’s seat of the wagon, arms crossed, looking at them like they were the ones wasting time.

  Lena jumped. “GAH—” She clutched her chest. “How did—when did—?!”

  Rob stiffened. “You were inside just a second ago.”

  In one dramatic motion, Ducaz dropped to his knees before Anders, clasped his hands together, and bowed so low it looked like he was about to kiss the old man’s boots.

  “Oh great and powerful master,” he intoned in a voice enough to creep out the cat and make it dash off to another corner. “Do you accept students? I am your student now.”

  Anders didn’t even blink. “You’re a Rogue. Go train with a Rogue.”

  Ducaz gasped, clutching his chest. “A man can be whatever he wants to be! I am a Mage now!”

  Anders ignored him. “The guild hall is not a suitable target. Too much movement inside. Too many guild members watching inventory. And it didn’t look like they accept stolen items.”

  Rob sighed. “Figured as much. Then it’s the auction house next?”

  Anders nodded.

  Lena was still gaping at him. “You—You can’t just do that and not explain anything!”

  Anders clicked the reins, making the horse start forward. “It’s a basic technique.”

  I mean, he didn’t lie.

  Patreon Subscriptions - 3 Bonus Chapters

  Discord Members - 1 Bonus Chapter

  Daniel Newwyn