Marianne Duran, the head maid of the Laval House and Torchbearer of the Dawn’s Children, had at this moment become like a true wisp of shadow, perfectly melding into the sparsely lit underground world that was the Thieves’ Guild headquarters.
Though it was her first time setting foot here in person, she had long since committed to memory the detailed architectural plan personally drawn by Master Allen—a map so meticulous it bordered on obsessive.
Every branching corridor, every guard post, even the spots prone to puddling or where the walls echoed—she remembered them all by heart.
She had long since slipped away from her companions, Hugo and Finn, and begun to carry out, alone, the core mission Master Allen had entrusted to her—to acquire the Thieves’ Guild’s key intelligence and evidence of their crimes.
The light in these underground chambers came mainly from torches and oil lamps spaced far apart.
Dim and shadowy, this environment was nothing short of home turf for Marianne, who bore the Brand of Shadow; she moved as naturally as a fish in water, utterly at ease.
Her mind worked like a precise instrument, quickly recording the lazy guard positions and shift rotations she passed by.
In her view, these defenses were full of gaping holes—vulnerable, barely worth mentioning.
At the same time, she slipped efficiently through the main areas, searching for the handful of key items Allen had specifically named.
Her first target was the Dovecote—the Thieves’ Guild’s intelligence transaction hub, used to receive, organize, and transmit information.
Marianne’s method for finding the necessary items was simple: she merely infiltrated the shadow of the Dovecote’s chief, quietly observing where he hid the most important documents.
Very soon, she discovered the Thieves’ Guild’s recent intelligence summary and a list of spies planted throughout the Capital—in City Hall, Chambers of Commerce, and even other Noble Mansions—hidden within an extremely secret compartment.
As Marianne touched these hefty papers, heavy enough to stir up a storm, her heartbeat quickened with excitement.
With these, the Intelligence Division under her charge—about to commence formal operations under the Dawn’s Children—would have its “first pot of gold.”
She even had a ready-made list of potential new recruits—those spies—to turn!
However, Allen had already, drawing on “historical experience,” laid down the Sixteen-Word Guideline for the Intelligence Division: Remain covert and streamlined, lie in long-term ambush, accumulate strength, and wait for the right opportunity.
The Master also emphasized adherence to the Three Prohibitions: No assassinations, no purchase with money, no use of honey traps.
Allen explained it to her like this:
“Bribery, seduction, and assassination—these are the enemy’s most familiar and commonly used tricks.
If we use the same methods, it’s like fighting them on their home turf, making us easy targets for infiltration and counter-manipulation. You might not even know how you died.”
“Take the honey trap for example—it’s the oldest and most dangerous trick of all. Anyone playing at seduction risks falling in themselves, or being controlled in turn by the other side. The risks are immense; once you fail, the consequences are disastrous.”
Marianne felt this deeply. She had once tried to “seduce” the Master, only to be completely bested—a bloody lesson she would not soon forget.
“As for assassinating key enemy members, that only provokes more frenzied, brutal retaliation—like mass hunts and massacres—exposing the organization’s existence, and dragging noble revolutionary struggle down to the level of petty personal vendettas. It blurs the focus and loses the people’s sympathy.”
“And as for purchase with money, that goes without saying. The underground intelligence world is harsh in the extreme; what keeps agents going under constant threat of death is not money or beauty, but the loftiest revolutionary ideal and unwavering political faith.”
“If you open the door to bribery and seduction, you’ll just attract a pack of opportunists and pleasure-seekers. Such people have no loyalty and are easily bought off by the enemy at a critical moment, dooming the entire organization to collapse.”
“Using these underhanded methods—bribery, seduction, assassination—puts us on the same moral level as our enemies. We lose ourselves. An organization built on money and sex is no different from the old system we seek to overthrow. It fundamentally undermines the legitimacy and moral advantage of the Dawn’s Children!”
“That’s why sticking to the Sixteen-Word Guideline and the Three Prohibitions is a harder, but also steadier and mightier, path.”
What Allen truly advocated was the grassroots line—the Dawn’s Children and the Intelligence Division should root themselves among the people, like fish swimming in the sea.
The protection and support of the masses is the best safety net, an “absolute defense” no secret agency can break!
So, although she now held the critical intelligence, Marianne’s next task was to filter, identify, and ultimately transform and reorganize the old Thieves’ Guild intelligence network, turning it to serve the Dawn’s Children.
Next, using the same tricks, Marianne entered the Dark Hall—the chamber responsible for “wet work” like assassinations and kidnappings—and obtained the most crucial records of commissions.
These archives could trace back to the original clients and were invaluable evidence of crime.
As she passed through the Dark Hall en route to her next target, Marianne inevitably had to cross the area known as the Land of Tenderness.
Just approaching it, a thick wave of scent assaulted her—an overpowering blend of expensive perfume, alcohol, sweat, and a certain ambiguous, animal musk.
This den of pleasure, reserved for the nobles, was ablaze with lights, the air filled with decadent music and wanton laughter, coquettish teasing, and even more breathless, blush-inducing moans.
Here, people seemed to shed all traces of civilization, transformed into beasts chasing nothing but primal pleasure.
Yet behind this orgy of the senses lay the blood and tears—the living hell—of countless girls forced to their ruin.
Marianne could feel, almost physically, the presence of an invisible, suffocating desire in the air, and beneath it, an even deeper, twisted pain.
She forced herself not to listen closely, not to see if any “familiar” big shots were among those shadows lost in desire.
After all, you could never kill all the guilty. Allen created the Dawn’s Children to destroy the very soil from which such evil grew—not just to wipe out the sinners’ bodies.
As a former member of the Crimson Spiral Cult, Marianne sensed at once—the Land of Tenderness was far more than a simple flesh market.
Something evil was watching this place! The nobles of the Capital, blessed with the world’s best living conditions, also had their “talents” for perversion and pleasure “greatly encouraged.”
Just the dazzling array of exotic toys and “special” installations Marianne glimpsed was enough to prove how shockingly depraved some of these noble souls had become.
This was, inevitably, a breeding ground for things that feed on twisted faith and power.
While using the Brand of Shadow here, Marianne could clearly feel the phantoms of “herself” created by the evil god—those from other cycles—wrapping themselves around her in an ecstasy of confusion.
It wasn’t a physical touch, but something deeper and far more chilling—an intrusion and whisper at the level of the soul.
They spoke with her own voice, uttering all sorts of shameless, provocative words designed to awaken her deepest desires, so much so that her body began to feel hot.
It was precisely at times like this that she could not think of Allen.
The evil god was amplifying and twisting her feelings for him!
So she forced herself to recall her friends—Amelia, the pure-as-a-white-flower nun from the church, sweet and simple Anna the foodie, and her dearest friend, Livia.
This really did work. As Marianne recalled the honest and innocent friendship she shared with Livia, her inner turmoil slowly calmed.
After all, she was as straight as iron—she simply had no improper thoughts toward girls, at least, not the kind the evil god expected.
Which only made Marianne more confused. Why on earth had the Master ever gotten such strange ideas about her orientation?
Poor Marianne still hadn’t realized the real issue: as a 《Starlit Romance》 original fan, Allen knew perfectly well Marianne’s storyline was friendship-heavy, and that she was straight.
After all, with Marianne throwing herself at him, and he wasn’t made of wood—how could he not realize she liked him?
But the problem was—this man’s “shipping” logic paid no heed to basic principles! In his twisted and joyful worldview, “straight girls getting close” only highlighted the greatness and inclusiveness of yuri.
Yuri was a complex, interdisciplinary field—a science of the 21st century!
Allen firmly believed that humanity would one day rediscover its love of yuri, and as a pioneer, he was determined to rebuild the grand palace of yuri!
Yes, in terms of being down bad, this guy really was a villain-level threat.
Let’s just toss that hopeless man into the trash for now.
Marianne intended only to quickly scout the Land of Tenderness for any key evidence of crime and then leave.
But at that moment, an extremely faint moan—utterly unlike the rest—reached her ears.
The sound was filled with pain, more a tragic struggle before death than anything else.
She instantly followed the sound, slipping like a formless ghost through locked doors, entering through the cracks of shadow thanks to the Brand of Shadow’s power.
With her enhanced vision, she could see everything in total darkness. And then she saw a true hell on earth—
A group of girls, clothed in rags or almost naked, huddled in a cold corner.
Most were severely malnourished; even the scraps of food left to them were smeared with suspicious, cloudy fluids.
You could just make out their once-lovely faces, now ravaged by illness (especially venereal disease) and long-term abuse.
Their bodies bore new and old scars, and their eyes were hollow, numb—like broken dolls awaiting disposal.
The only reason they still lived…seemed to be as “reserve offerings” for some evil ritual.
In an instant, Marianne understood—these were the slaves who had been completely “ruined,” no longer of “market value.”
The Thieves’ Guild herded them here like garbage, barely keeping them alive, waiting for some final “use.”
In that moment, the evil god’s whispers surged, fanning and magnifying Marianne’s rage and bloodlust.
Truly, faced with this scene, she longed to reveal herself and slaughter every scumbag in this place.
But she forced herself to hold back. She would save these girls—but not now!
She absolutely could not, on a moment’s impulse, destroy the painstaking plan Allen had laid.
She finally understood why the Master had so often emphasized, “Not a single person in the Thieves’ Guild is innocent.”
The misery of these girls was the most bloody proof! Their very existence was a tearful accusation.
Marianne pressed down her emotions, clinging to reason, and made for her final target—the Bank Vault.
As the Guild’s core treasury for storing account books, cash, and valuables, the Vault was usually sealed behind an immensely heavy iron door.
But today, June 29th, was the Thieves’ Guild’s second quarter financial audit, and so the doors stood wide open for the accountants to pass freely.
Of course, elite guards watched every entrant with hungry eyes.
Unfortunately for them, even the sharpest gaze could not spot Marianne, who blended into the shadows.
Slipping inside, Marianne realized that this was, in every sense, a true “gold” vault.
At the deepest part of the storeroom, piles of antiques, precious metals, bags of coins, and an array of valuable pledges stacked mountain-high, gleaming temptingly (or perhaps wickedly) under the lamps.
She quickly found the ledgers listing the origins and destinations of these items.
On careful inspection, she saw that most of these valuables came from the Noble Moneybags.
In the Lorraine Kingdom, only the Sword-Bearing Nobles possessed unassailable hereditary tax immunity.
The tax status of the Noble Moneybags changed at the whim of the powers that be.
As Viscount Bernard had put it, the Noble Moneybags were little more than fattened sheep for the Royal Family and Sword-Bearing Nobles—tasked with fleecing the people, then culled when necessary to fill state coffers or line the pockets of certain “big shots.”
Allen had once told her of the late King (elder brother of Louis XI) and his legendary deeds: revoking all the privileges of the Noble Moneybags, then forcing them to buy them back; selling Crown Assets to the Noble Moneybags at high prices, only to immediately reclaim them as “National Assets not for sale;” and finally, even attempting to strip the Sword-Bearing Nobles of their tax immunity…
The result: the tyrant died “mysteriously” and abruptly, without leaving an heir. The whole kingdom avoided speaking of his death, but whether commoner or noble, all agreed he deserved it.
These events had deeply shocked the Sword-Bearing Nobles.
To avoid risk, they entrusted huge fortunes to underworld groups like the Thieves’ Guild to launder and conceal them—“perfectly reasonable.”
Holding her breath, Marianne became the consummate phantom thief, silently tucking away the most critical transaction records and secret ledgers into her Shadow Space.
And as she quickly skimmed the books, she discovered an astonishing truth: almost all the protection money from the Thieves’ Guild was delivered to a very powerful noble.
The ledgers clearly showed that the Noble Moneybags were using his channels to hide their assets in the Guild headquarters.
This major backer of the Thieves’ Guild was none other than the Minister of Finance—the very man who had deliberately withheld the Laval House’s vast construction payments, nearly bankrupting her family!
Marianne hadn’t expected to catch such a big fish’s tail so easily.
Bringing him down would not only deal a massive blow to the old nobility, it could even resolve the Laval House’s greatest debt crisis.
“If anyone wants to become my enemy, whoever they are, they’ll pay the price.” Suddenly, Marianne recalled Allen’s words.
Could it be…that the Master had foreseen this all along? As expected of the Master!
While Marianne was brimming with admiration for Allen, pondering whether she ought to withdraw at once and deliver these explosive findings, a sudden surge of wild, chaotic cheering and shouting erupted from outside.
It seemed the “benefit event” the Thieves’ Guild had prepared for its members had officially begun.
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