Chapter 286 - A World Bound by Profit
The dim alleyway behind the bustling entertainment district faded into shadow, a place even less conspicuous at night.
Yet if one watched closely, movement could be seen around a single residence tucked within the darkness. Far too many people came and went—clearly not ordinary residents. The constant flow hinted this was no mere home, but some kind of establishment.
A shop disguised as a house, with no signboard, was undoubtedly hiding something. And if it was unknown to us, the Kikyo Society, then suspicion reached its peak.
"Ophelia’s team, move in from the back. We’re going loud, so time your entry with ours."
"Got it. Honestly, an underground casino? Right under our noses, these bastards have the nerve to operate."
"Onee-sama, what about the customers?"
"Leave them be. They might come back as our paying guests someday, so we’ll turn a blind eye—for now. But the mastermind behind this casino? Eliminate them. Strip every valuable thing they own. And for the rest of the staff, take everything—down to their clothes."
"Roger!"
We were about to shut down an illegal casino that had quietly begun operating within our territory.
This underground casino had only recently opened, built without permission by some upstart faction. The Intelligence Bureau hadn’t caught wind of it—this fresh intel came straight from the Phantom Thief Guild.
The suspicious break-in at the Kikyo Society Headquarters seemed to have been a demonstration, a way for the Phantom Thief Guild to showcase their skills. Just as Josephine predicted, it was their flashy debut, a bold advertisement of their arrival.
From their perspective, it was also a greeting—a way to announce their services to the Three Great Families of Exembra. In other words, similar break-ins had likely occurred at the headquarters of the Clad Family and Anastasia Union, separate from our own.
It was a dangerously bold performance, but there was no better way to prove real capability than action. Much faster than empty words.
It probably served other purposes too—perhaps gathering intelligence, testing the security levels of the Three Great Families. Surely it wasn’t just a simple show. But if such formidable players could coexist with us, they might prove highly useful.
Whatever their motives, operating in the underworld of Exembra without the approval of the Three Great Families was nearly impossible. By demonstrating their competence and offering valuable intel as an apology for intrusion, they weren’t positioning themselves as enemies, but as partners for coexistence.
The Phantom Thief Guild wouldn’t compete with us for territory, nor would they likely become business rivals. Their main work was theft—whether objects, people, or information, they’d acquire and sell anything for the right job.
We don’t deal in information. If we want something, we don’t sneak—we seize it outright. Our organizational philosophies were fundamentally different, which made coexistence entirely possible.
Still, frequent thefts within our territory would be a nuisance. I’d prefer they didn’t draw too much attention. Though, I suppose there’s room for discussion on that.
In any case, their attempt to ingratiate themselves stemmed from the understanding that opposing the Three Great Families meant annihilation. Better to establish themselves early as a useful, cooperative force rather than be labeled an enemy. Gaining the Three Great Families as clients carried immense strategic value.
Moreover, a city where underworld figures could walk freely and flaunt their power was a rare draw. One could even call it paradise.
For us, there was clear benefit in supplementing the Intelligence Bureau’s blind spots with intel from the Phantom Thief Guild. Not just within Exembra—through their network, we could access information from foreign nations.
We already gained useful intel from the Commerce Guild and Adventurer Guild, but information from a guild specializing in the underground routes would be of a different caliber. This time, the potential felt truly distinct.
Well, I’ve accepted the Phantom Thief Guild’s existence, and the Kikyo Society has settled on this approach. That said, other organizations might not share our view. All I can say is—good luck to them.
"...Looks like Ophelia’s team is in position."
"No movement around the perimeter. We’re ready to go."
Ophelia’s Tenth Combat Unit had circled to the rear, while I stood at the front with Valeria and the direct-command members from the Headquarters. A young operative wearing the bronze badge of the Kikyo crest confidently declared we were set. I gave a single nod—go.
The girl acknowledged the signal. Another member immediately kicked the door open and charged inside.
As the team poured in with disciplined precision, even Valeria, notoriously hard to impress, looked satisfied. Valeria and I held back, letting the culprits try to flee among the panicked guests—we wouldn’t let the mastermind slip away.
Within moments of entry, terrified patrons began flooding out.
We already had plenty of casinos in our district. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would seek out this shabby place. Were they chasing thrills? If so, tonight’s entertainment was certainly memorable.
"Hmm… Maybe we should consider adding surprise raids as a casino attraction."
"Onee-sama?"
"Never mind."
Not the time to think about that.
A few minutes after the last fugitive fled, the bronze-badged girl leading the assault team returned.
"Chairwoman Yukari, Ms. Valeria. The area is secured. The mastermind has been eliminated. We’re currently collecting valuables."
"Did you strip them bare?"
"Executing on Captain Ophelia’s orders. Completion is imminent."
They’d finished the job quickly. One by one, the team emerged, Ophelia among them.
Apparently, there had been no traps, and the enemy’s numbers and gear were underwhelming—just as the Phantom Thief Guild’s intel suggested. For all they’d dared to operate in our territory, their preparation was laughable. They’d seriously underestimated us.
"I wonder how things are going at Siegrune’s end. Any chance they’ve come up with an entertaining excuse?"
Ophelia asked, clearly enjoying the night’s chaos. Besides the casino’s operator, there was another mastermind—a merchant who had secretly arranged the clientele. Siegrune was paying him a late-night visit right now.
"If they even have time to make excuses."
"Hah! More likely they’re on their knees, begging for mercy."
An underground casino couldn’t survive without customers. Since drawing attention meant certain doom, they couldn’t advertise openly. So how did they gather patrons?
The eliminated mastermind had organized the new faction, but a separate merchant had quietly brokered the customer network. That man was now receiving Siegrune’s “greetings.”
But unlike the mastermind, we had no intention of killing the merchant. We’d keep him alive—just long enough to squeeze every last drop of profit from him.
The Commerce Guild, which oversees merchants, should normally protect its members. But we pay the Commerce Guild hefty sums—both openly and behind the scenes.
When it comes to whose side offers more benefit, the choice is obvious. By provoking us—their city’s premier client—the merchant had thrown away any right to protection. He’d abandoned his own standing.
"There are probably more places like this, Onee-sama."
"Yes. There will be others, and we won’t be able to prevent them all."
Exembra was a massive city. Even our territory was vast, with countless blind spots. We’d just have to keep crushing them as they emerged—one by one.
Clearing up this minor nuisance felt satisfying. Time to head home and sleep soundly tonight.
Thanks to the accurate intel, we’d successfully dismantled the underground casino. The Phantom Thief Guild’s credibility had risen slightly.
They were still in the trial phase, but we now saw them as usable informants. We’d exploit them aggressively from here on. Even if we were being played into their scheme, we’d suffer no loss. In fact, useful allies were always welcome.
Rather than eliminating threats immediately, we’d consider mutual benefit and aim for coexistence where possible. That was how this city would keep growing. If a new organization could thrive, it would only add to the city’s allure.
Of course, we wouldn’t let our guard down. The Phantom Thief Guild was an underworld organization—they’d surely plot ways to gain advantage. We could already imagine some of our own secrets slipping out, despite our efforts to conceal them.
Which was why we needed leverage in return. They possessed a unique network—wasting it by destroying them would be foolish. Given their connections to both the Clad Family and Anastasia Union, they might already be in a position too complex to simply eliminate. Most likely, that was their intention all along—to cozy up to all Three Great Families.
Josephine had considered various scenarios and concluded that engaging with them offered net benefits. I had no reason to doubt her judgment.
New powers stirring the city brought energy. Events like this were necessary. Indiscriminate elimination was a poor strategy.
As new alliances formed, maintaining old ones grew equally important. And so, today, I visited another guild to strengthen existing ties. As chairwoman, I came bearing business.
Dominating a prime spot on Central Avenue, its grand sign proudly displayed, this guild stood above the rest in wealth and connections. None other than the Magic Item Guild.
Having arranged the meeting in advance, I was promptly escorted to the branch master’s office. We sat across a large conference table, face to face.
The absence of guards or attendants spoke volumes about our relationship. All built on mutual profit.
We placed massive orders—not just for the Kikyo Society Headquarters, but for every branch, the Arena, affiliated facilities, and numerous hotels. Our contracts already exceeded three hundred million Gist. Today’s meeting was another business discussion. No wonder the branch master was in such high spirits.
"It’s been a while since we last met in person, Lord Andar."
Lord Andar, formerly the branch master in the Royal Capital, had relocated here upon the opening of the Exembra branch. He now simultaneously oversaw the entire Brenark Kingdom region. The Royal Capital branch was under someone else’s management, but this branch offered more underground opportunities—and bigger profits. Naturally, he’d want to manage the juicier one himself.
"Indeed, Chairwoman Yukarinowe. Since opening this branch, we’ve received numerous large-scale contracts. The Guild Headquarters is taking great interest, and we’ve secured promises of stronger support. Hah. This means we’ll soon be able to offer deals far better than before."
He seemed even more pleased than I’d expected, grinning broadly as he spoke of their progress.
"That’s wonderful. What kind of support are we talking about, exactly?"
"For example, permission to manufacture magic items previously restricted to the Headquarters or major branches, or the dispatch of additional magic item artisans. In fact, we’ve already begun increasing our artisan numbers."
"So delivery speeds will improve, and we’ll be able to produce items we previously had to import from the homeland. That’s excellent news."
Besides the public contracts, the underground revenue must have caught the Guild Headquarters’ attention. Prioritizing profit was only natural, but their swift action was commendable.
The cheerful Lord Andar continued chatting amiably, and I listened without interruption. Midway through, I sipped tea—seemingly an innocent gesture—but it snapped him back to focus.
"Ah—perhaps I’ve said too much. Now then, let’s discuss the main matter. As you requested earlier, I’ve prepared a favorable response."
Inside, I raised a triumphant fist. This was exactly what I’d been hoping for.
Matching his cheer, I smiled and continued.
"I sent the detailed requests in writing, but can you fulfill all of them?"
"With some adjustments to the proposed budget. We consulted the Headquarters—technically feasible, but the items fall into a gray area. Securing approval requires coordination with multiple parties."
In other words, the bribes needed were more numerous than expected. To me, it didn’t matter how much it cost—as long as it worked, I’d pay. Budget overruns were already factored in. If money could solve it, it was cheap.
Those items were worth every coin.
"No problem. As long as we get portable communication devices—even if range-limited."
I’d long believed communication magic items would be incredibly convenient.
Long-range communication devices existed, owned by a few major guilds, but I’d never heard of one carried by an individual. And those were stationary units, not portable.
After consulting the Magic Item Guild, I learned that creating short-range communication devices wasn’t technically difficult. At last—portable, personal communication magic items.
But there was a major obstacle.
Even in miniature form, limited to short distances, the magic power required to activate them was immense.
So immense that an ordinary person’s reserves made usage nearly impossible. Previously, such devices required large quantities of charged magic stones, restricting them to stationary models. Even short-range versions were too costly for daily use.
But for us, the Kikyo Society, this problem was manageable—especially among high-ranking members. Our magic reserves dwarfed those of ordinary individuals. As long as we kept messages brief, it wouldn’t be an issue.
The next hurdle was the Magic Item Guild’s reluctance to spread communication tech—likely political.
If efficient, low-power communication devices became widespread, it would trigger a revolution. The intricate web of interests involved was far too complex for me to fully grasp.
Luckily, both the political complications and technical limitations were overcome—through our abnormally high magic reserves and well-placed bribes. Using sheer power to bypass the rules was an approach even the higher-ups could tolerate. After all, if no magic stones were needed, the devices could be made extremely small.
"This is true rule-breaking. Relying on monstrous reserves of magic to ignore the limitations—surely an unexpected brute-force solution even for the Headquarters. Without magic stones, the devices can be miniaturized further. Here—I’ve prepared a sample. What do you think?"
"This? It’s much smaller than I expected."
Apparently designed to function as earrings. Without relying on magic stones, only high-ranking members and those with comparable reserves could use them actively. But for receiving messages, even those with weaker reserves could manage. The earring-sized form was perfect.
"As requested, it includes encryption to prevent eavesdropping. However, if even one device is stolen, that guarantee is void."
"Fine. I’ll start with a trial order of about fifty."
"We can prepare that within days. Seventy thousand Gist each, including all fees. That’s acceptable?"
"Pay now. Notify me the moment they’re ready."
Deal sealed.
Our combat strength would always rely on individual power, but now that we were on good terms with the Magic Item Guild, we should fully utilize their tools. Relying solely on magic items would be risky—if they broke, we’d be helpless. But as supplementary equipment, they posed no issues.
We still had many other desired upgrades in negotiation. Step by step, we were preparing—for the coming era of war.
Using our connections to upgrade our gear.
There are still inconveniences, but we’ve finally obtained communication equipment! What will our next new gear be!?
Our collection of suspicious equipment continues to grow.
And in just a few chapters, the stage will shift to a seaside town. But before that—expect a trial run with our new gear!