The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character-Chapter 59: Phantom Thief Dauphin (3). Showmanship

“I have no intention of falling for such a petty threat.”

The man who had received Dauphin’s calling card—Henri Montborque—declared without hesitation.

“The trade contract was legitimate to begin with! If a bunch of ignorant peasants made mistakes because they couldn’t read, that’s their fault! How does that become my fault? Unbelievable.”

The fact that Montborque Trading Company employees had deliberately misread the contracts aloud to deceive the illiterate farmers meant nothing to Henri.

That, to him, was just the lower ranks acting “on their own.” And even if it hadn’t been on their own? What did it matter? There was no way to prove it.

The upper ranks of the city guard thought much the same.

What mattered to them was that the Montborque Trading Company was one of the top ten firms in all of the Birka Kingdom—and that it had direct business ties with House Sarnos. The injustice and suffering of a few peasants? Not their concern.

More than anything, they were furious about one thing:

This “calling card.”

“A damn thief, announcing his target out in the open and saying exactly when he’s coming? Does he think we’re idiots!?”

In the battle between guards and thieves, why do the guards usually have the disadvantage?

Because they must remain constantly alert, not knowing where or when the thief will strike. The thief, on the other hand, chooses the time and place.

But now, this Dauphin had thrown that advantage away himself.

The only explanation was that his ego had grown so bloated from his recent successes that he thought the guard wasn’t worth worrying about.

“Don’t let a single ant through! If something even seems suspicious, grab them!”

“Keep your damn eyes wide open! If I catch anyone nodding off, I’ll kill them myself before any thief does!”

The company commander shouted down the squad leaders, the squad leaders screamed at their men, and the soldiers, drilled to the breaking point, radiated murderous energy.

The tension surrounding the Montborque building was so heavy, it almost seemed to distort the air like a heat haze.

Watching from a distance, the citizens murmured.

“There’s no way anyone’s getting through that.”

“Why would he even announce his plans if he’s a thief? Shouldn’t he be sneaking in?”

“You think he’ll really show up? Maybe this was all a distraction and he’s hitting some other place while the guards are busy here?”

As dusk fell and the moon began to glow gently in the night sky, the time written in the calling card arrived.

And moments later—

Flick.

Darkness swallowed the entire area.

“...Huh?”

“Wh-what? What’s going on?”

In a show of wealth and power, Montborque’s building had been lit with expensive magelamps, bright enough to drive away the night.

Unlike torches, magelamps offered steady, manageable light. The guards had come to rely on them.

But now they had all gone out at once.

Before the soldiers could do more than blink in confusion, a scream erupted from inside the mansion.

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

The sound came from the room where Henri Montborque had been staying. Several squad leaders went pale.

“Torches! Get the patrol torches! Now!!”

The guards scrambled toward the source of the scream, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) fumbling with hastily lit torches.

There, they found the room in shambles—and Henri Montborque collapsed on the floor, clutching his leg in pain, face twisted with terror.

“Sir! Are you alright!? What happened!?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Henri pointed toward the window with a trembling hand.

“H-he tried to drag me off! But when he saw people approaching, he fled—through there! Hurry, you have to catch him... Urgh...”

It seemed he had injured his leg while struggling against the intruder.

There were details that didn’t quite make sense, but the squad leaders were too blinded by the prospect of capturing Dauphin to notice.

“Don’t worry, sir! Our 1st Squad will apprehend him at once!”

“2nd Squad, move out! Let’s go!!”

As the majority of the guards stormed off in pursuit, employees from the trading company who arrived late ran up to Henri.

“We’re bringing a stretcher. Please hold on—we’ll call a doctor—”

“No, there’s no time for that.”

Henri’s eyes were wide, frantic.

“The warehouse—go to the warehouse now! We have to move the treasures before he gets there!”

“W-what do you mean?”

“He found me without anyone noticing! That means there’s a traitor among us! We have to secure the goods before they betray me again!”

The employees and remaining soldiers hesitated, but couldn’t withstand Henri’s rising fury.

“My legs are useless! Someone carry me, and the rest guide the guards! Don’t tell me anyone’s too dumb to find their way just because the lights are out!?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Move it! Bring the carts!”

Even as he groaned in pain and winced with every breath, Henri barked orders relentlessly. The people around him were unnerved, but none dared complain.

When they finally reached the warehouse, Henri gave a satisfied nod.

“Good. The contents are safe. Now, get it all on the cart! Take it through the back garden!”

“Th-the back garden? Wouldn’t it be safer to go out the front, where more people can see?”

“You idiot!! The thief escaped that way! And we don’t know who the traitor is—you want to announce to the whole city where I’m moving my valuables!? Or maybe you’re the traitor? Trying to ruin me, is that it!?”

“N-no, sir! Not at all!”

Silenced by Henri’s wrath, the staff and soldiers loaded the treasure onto carts and took it to the back garden, as instructed.

Some guards along the way tried to question them, but Henri’s furious shouting—and accusations of them being the thief—shut them down quickly.

At last, they reached the back garden.

Everyone looked completely drained.

They had hauled heavy carts while being constantly berated—of course they were exhausted.

“Good. This place will do nicely. Well done, all of you.”

Henri’s sudden gentle tone caused the soldiers to sigh in relief—but the staff felt a strange chill.

The Henri Montborque they knew never praised people like that. If anything, his crazed obsession with money from earlier had been more in character.

And once that first moment of doubt took hold, the others quickly followed.

Why had he been so paranoid about a traitor, and yet entrusted the move to everyone here without hesitation?

Why hadn’t his personal guards—who should have been at his side—shown themselves at all?

And how had Henri, a man with no combat ability, resisted an attack and emerged with nothing but a twisted ankle?

But before anyone could examine those questions too deeply—

A sharp blow to the neck stole their consciousness away.

To deceive someone, you don’t need a perfect plan.

What really matters is shameless confidence—and overwhelming momentum that leaves no room for doubt.

And in the silent, dim-lit garden, the figures fell.

Standing alone, upright on both legs...

Henri Montborque—

No.

Phantom Thief Dauphin smiled.

***

The next morning.

The citizens of Lebruk rubbed their eyes with their sleeves as if trying to wipe away a bizarre illusion.

But no matter how much they rubbed—until the skin around their eyes stung—the sight before them did not change.

“Mmmph! Mmph-mmph! Mmmmmmmph!!”

In the heart of Lebruk’s massive central plaza...

Suspended between buildings, dangling from thick ropes like grotesque larvae, were Henri Montborque and his closest aides.

And hanging beside them, several large wooden signs bore the following inscription:

“To the not-so-dearly beloved corrupt merchant and his lackeys:

I must say, it’s a shame you chose to ignore such a well-meant warning.

Still, all people make mistakes—once.

If you learn from this experience and, even belatedly, pay fair compensation to the farmers and offer them a proper apology, I will not pursue this matter any further.

Oh, of course, the small interest I collected this time is separate. Think of it as tuition.

After all, I only emptied a single warehouse. Surely your remaining fortune is more than enough. Though, should you choose to ignore another warning... well, we’ll see.

I hope you cast aside your stubborn pride and repay your debts voluntarily.

And to the dear citizens of Lebruk:

The wealth I recovered from Montborque will be shared with you today, in the form of a hot meal. Please, eat well and enjoy yourselves. While you're at it, a few words of thanks to Montborque would be appreciated.

Receiving praise and gratitude is said to build good character, after all.

Ah, and for those worried about repercussions after eating—don’t be. That would be a needless concern.

After all, if you don’t eat it, it would all go to waste. Surely no one is so small-minded they’d rather throw it all away than see others benefit from it?

...If such a person does exist, then my apologies. I offer this preemptively.

—Phantom Thief Dauphin”

And as if to prove the message was no bluff, steaming pots had been set up across various parts of the city—each filled with hearty stew, still warm and perfect for breakfast.

Fragrant meat, soft potatoes, carrots, onions, and herbs of mysterious origin filled the air with an irresistible aroma.

Next to each pot were heaps of wooden bowls and spoons, and for those who couldn’t read, cheerful illustrations showed smiling figures enjoying spoonfuls of stew.

The citizens of the slums, used to going hungry day after day, didn’t hesitate. They grabbed bowls and devoured the stew.

Even the ordinary townsfolk, initially wary, soon gave in once someone took a bite and moaned in delight—and then they too crowded in, desperate for a taste.

Even residents of the upper-class district, those known for their pride and refinement, found themselves sniffing the air and casting furtive glances toward the stew, their noses twitching at the powerful aroma.

Inadvertently, the Montborque Trading Company had sponsored a city-wide soup kitchen.

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Henri Montborque was livid, grinding his teeth—but he didn’t dare lash out at the citizens enjoying the meal.

His reputation was already in tatters; the last thing he needed was to add “petty tyrant” to his list of titles.

Montborque and the city guard tried to suppress details of what had happened.

But once rumors start to spread, there’s no putting them back in the bottle.

Eventually, Henri Montborque—through gritted teeth—paid proper compensation to the farmers.

And the city guard? They became the laughingstock of Lebruk.

But this was merely the beginning.

Just the first of many incidents Phantom Thief Dauphin would unleash upon the city.