Chapter Seventy: The International Master Thief

“Level forty? How is that possible?” The half-orc shadow thief from the Yangtze Delta screamed in disbelief. From long ago, he had developed the commendable habit of rifling through his target’s pockets before making a move. Over time, this evolved into a compulsive paranoia where he’d rather be cut down than strike first. I dare say, he was the most diligent practitioner of thievery skills I’ve ever seen, yet even so, his pickpocketing had only just reached level twenty-five.

“That’s impossible for you, of course. But I did warn you not to compare me with amateur thieves like you…” Redwolf sneered with a smug expression.

According to the dark elf himself, the reason he could master thievery at an extraordinary pace was entirely due to a special skill he happened to invent. When he first learned the art of stealing, an accidental discovery revealed he could perform the intricate item transfer technique simultaneously with both hands. This allowed him to acquire two spoils from a single heist, doubling the experience gained.

Still, even so, a level forty thievery skill was nothing short of astonishing. One must understand that each successive skill level requires at least one-third more soul power than the previous. The higher the level, the greater the soul power needed. Level forty demands multiple times the soul power required for level twenty—far beyond what “double experience” alone could account for.

Noticing our skeptical gazes, Redwolf seemed offended at being doubted. He puffed up his chest and angrily declared, “What, you don’t believe me? Looks like you need your eyes opened to the fact that the Horse King has three hands!”

“Isn’t it three eyes?” Longspear frowned and questioned, hearing Redwolf’s boast.

“Hmph, three eyes are useless. Three hands are much more practical,” Redwolf retorted disdainfully.

Soon, we were “privileged” to witness the astonishing display of a level forty thievery skill in action:

At first, we focused intently on Redwolf’s hands, waiting to see when he would unleash this awe-inspiring technique. Accidentally, I glanced at Crazy Warehouse, the dwarf priest, and felt an inexplicable oddity. Something was off, but I couldn’t immediately pinpoint it.

Then I noticed: “Hey, why is your hat gone?” The dwarf matron had always worn a “monk’s hat” that made her squat, sturdy frame appear a bit more upright. But at some point, the hat had vanished, making her look even more bulky and clumsy—no wonder something felt wrong on sight.

I wasn’t the only one sensing the strangeness. As I spoke, the dwarf matron exclaimed in surprise, “Longspear, where are your gloves? You only have one vambrace left!”

“Jeff, where’s your shield?” Longspear finally asked me with confusion. “You were holding it just a moment ago.”

The swordsman, Fuxiao, looked awkwardly between us and Redwolf.

“Well…” The dark elf assassin scratched his long ears sheepishly, then pulled out some items from his backpack that looked remarkably familiar to us. “...I just realized I seem to have a few extra things here…”

“My gloves…” Longspear shouted in shock. “And these poisons—when did you steal those?”

“My hat’s with you too…” Warehouse pointed to a dull-colored novice’s hat among the items.

Naturally, my shield was there as well. Moreover, I noticed that a pile of sulfur and shale inside matched the exact weight of what was missing from my own backpack.

Faced with Longspear’s questions, the dark elf grew even more embarrassed, spreading his hands apologetically. “Actually… I just found out these things somehow ended up with me…”

Unfortunately, we took his answer as mere professional humor, failing to grasp its deeper implications…

As a live demonstration of a top-tier thievery skill, the outcome was already quite a success. No matter how skilled the half-orc shadow thief was, his arm and finger movements would betray him during a theft. But this international master thief before us showed no such signs; I couldn’t detect any unusual hand movements at all, yet he had already tricked us. No matter how hard I racked my brains, I couldn’t guess when he’d struck. Such subtlety transcended mere stealing, verging on performance art, leaving us in awe.

The true marvel, however, was revealed when Redwolf tried to return the stolen goods:

“This shield is mine, along with this shale…” I sifted through my belongings as he handed the items back, “Three bottles of major healing potions, a pair of falcon’s leather pants, two bundles of white bud grass, three blocks of butter…” The items kept coming from Redwolf’s hands as if endless.

“Damn, where’s my helmet? And two lizard skins, cured sheepskin, salted beef leg… ah, my shale’s gone again…”

“Well…” Redwolf hesitated, watching me lose my temper, “I just noticed I seem to have two extra portions of sulfur here. Is that yours?”

I realized the serious problem: while he kept returning stolen goods, Redwolf was simultaneously pilfering more from me. Given his masterful skills, he was probably stealing faster than he was giving back. If this went on, I’d be stripped bare before reclaiming all my possessions.

“Enough! Get me my assistant!” I shouted in frustration—and at that moment, my boots vanished into thin air.

“I don’t want to do this either…” Redwolf shrugged innocently. I clearly saw both his hands exposed, yet twenty silver coins suddenly disappeared from my purse.

I immediately clutched my pants with my left hand, tightly covered my chest with my right, and squeezed my longsword under my armpit, stepping back five paces as if fleeing.

“I told you to stop using your damn thievery skill! I’ve seen enough already!” I threatened fiercely—though if he hadn’t stolen my belt, I might have been more confident.

“I really didn’t mean to. I can’t help it…” Redwolf looked wronged and squinted at me. “It’s a passive skill…”

…

I had always believed the pinnacle of thievery was to steal “without a soul knowing,” completing a theft without anyone noticing.

Redwolf shattered that shallow perception completely.

Being undetected still requires conscious effort; no matter how skilled, traces remain. But Redwolf’s realm was far beyond, unprecedented—

He didn’t even know when he was stealing; it was pure subtlety, like profound silence or invisible form.

In simple terms, this sneaky dark elf was a compulsive thief who couldn’t control his own hands.

Since it was a passive skill, for Redwolf, “stealing” was no longer just an act but a state—much like a mage’s magical shield or a druid’s animal transformation. Once activated, it persisted for a long time without repeated effort.

In this “empty-handed” state, Redwolf indiscriminately pilfered from everyone nearby but lost all combat ability until the skill’s three-minute cooldown ended.

Thankfully, like ordinary thievery, this skill’s effects were more pronounced on commoners, while those with natural resistance usually only lost worthless junk. Otherwise, Redwolf would have long surpassed the End Times King Darrendel to become the most feared entity on Farvie Continent.

Now we understood how he reached such an astonishing level—he literally activated the skill and threw himself into crowds, stuffing his pockets until satisfied, then letting himself be flattened without resistance—repeating this endlessly with enthusiasm.

Well, let’s forget all those lofty “thievery skill” judgments and properly assess this fugitive from an enemy nation. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t just a kleptomaniac…

He was a kleptomaniac with severe masochistic tendencies!

…

“Return our things!” The three victims of this brazen theft shouted with reddened eyes. The only thing preventing us from attacking and tearing him to pieces again was not wanting our weapons stolen in the split second before drawing blades.

“Wait until my skill cools down!” Redwolf pleaded miserably.

“Don’t come near…” Finally, Fuxiao spoke up, clearly accustomed to such antics. He had kept his distance from Redwolf from the start and now gestured to hold back Longspear and Warehouse.

No persuasion was needed; even with a blade at my throat, I wouldn’t approach this seemingly harmless dark elf.

“Now, Redwolf, put all the items that don’t belong to you on the ground,” Fuxiao ordered as we stood safely outside the skill’s range.

Had I not witnessed it myself, I wouldn’t have believed so many items had transferred to Redwolf within moments.

When the dark elf set down the stolen goods and stepped back, the three of us cautiously gathered our belongings and mentally marked Redwolf as “extremely dangerous.”

Now I understood why so many wanderers, assassins, and shadow thieves roamed the world yet only Redwolf mastered “empty-handed” thievery. We must believe that in certain special domains, some geniuses exist far beyond ordinary comprehension.

Having witnessed Redwolf’s extraordinary prowess, I truly imagined that when his level forty thievery skill was fully unleashed, the shock would be immense—perhaps he could steal the high priest’s underwear undetected.

Suddenly, I felt his outrageous, madcap thievery plan might actually succeed.

“Why haven’t you joined a guild?” Warehouse asked, standing five paces from Redwolf with puzzled eyes. “With such a high-level thievery skill, you’d be a huge asset in dungeon runs.”

Redwolf countered, “Do you think any sane, half-rational guild master without complete madness would accept someone whose damage is lower than a priest’s, defense worse than a mage’s, health weaker than a bard’s, dies faster than a warrior, can’t tank or heal, lacks support skills, rarely deals damage, spends fights stealing money, disarms teammates, runs away first in danger, and inexplicably attracts hordes of monsters to vanish and watch the party wipe out?”

We all shook our heads.

“Unfortunately, guild masters in the empire share your view,” the dark elf admitted sheepishly, “So every time I switch guilds, I sadly realize one less guild willing to take me in.”

Perhaps this dark-skinned man had countless flaws, but he possessed one noble virtue that made him a paragon to most intelligent beings: he was very, very self-aware!

“…Eventually, I realized I’d tried every guild in the End Times Empire, only to be ruthlessly kicked out. If I want to join a guild again, I probably have to try my luck with the Alliance…” Redwolf said dejectedly. “…Maybe I’ll find a guild master who’s a bit scatterbrained and keeps me.”

Words spoken without intent, yet listeners took them seriously. The dark elf’s remark immediately ignited the enthusiasm of the two human traffickers beside him.

“If that’s the case, why don’t you try joining our guild?” I said quickly, reaching out to pat his shoulder. But thinking of his elusive thievery skill, I froze my hand mid-air.

“You mean your guild master is a lunatic?” Redwolf asked, puzzled. “No way that’s a coincidence.”

Though our soon-to-be guild would likely have no sane members besides me, and the chance of the leader being mentally unbalanced was high, I wasn’t ready to decide on that question yet.

“In fact, we’re forming a new guild but ran into some trouble…” I smiled awkwardly and explained our predicament to my two companions.

“…If we can’t gather twenty signatures, the guild won’t form. We’re quite worried,” I said, mostly addressing Redwolf but casting hopeful glances at Fuxiao—the addition of a dark elf to an Alliance guild was unlikely, but recruiting this human swordsman would be a significant gain.

Surprisingly, Redwolf showed great interest.

“You mean, no application needed—just signing your name on the bulletin board lets you join?” he asked carefully. “You know, hostile factions don’t have an application option.”

Longspear checked the guild formation requirements and confirmed.

“I’d really like to try…” Redwolf said excitedly. “…Maybe I could find some system loophole.”

System loophole? What’s that? Oh, never mind. I probably wouldn’t understand.

“That’s great. Whether you join or not, we’ll definitely help you steal the high priest’s gear,” Longspear vowed. In his eyes, compared to the ironclad recruitment standards of Lady Fei Yin, the priestess Evelina’s top-tier equipment was negligible and easily betrayed.

Since the dark elf was willing to try joining, his human swordsman companion wouldn’t be left out. After our gentle coaxing—no, emotional appeal and reasoned persuasion—Fuxiao agreed to join our new guild, marking a major breakthrough in recruitment.

By then, we had reached the outskirts of the holy city Fresheit. Ahead, the open city gates showed few passersby, and the gate guards’ faces were faintly visible.