章節 18: CHAPTER 18
Roman Torchwick POV
"Tell me more about this SDC shipment that's coming."
Rin said, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against the wall.
Roman exhaled a sigh, lighting his cigar, only for it to be immediately snuffed out by Rin's quick hand.
"Really?"
Roman muttered, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement.
"Smoking is bad for both the smoker and the passive smoker."
Rin replied, his tone teasing.
The two were holed up in one of Roman's safehouses in Vale. Honestly, Roman would rather be back in his legally purchased penthouse—bought with "his own" blood, sweat, and tears—but no doubt, Cinder was already using it after his "death." Damn bitch.
Safehouses were meant to be last-resort hideouts, places for when things went south. Roman had painstakingly chosen each location, ensuring even Neo didn't know about them. There were far too many liquid assets stored in these places for him to lose them over something trivial like an ice cream run.
Speaking of which, he'd have to restock some of these old hideouts soon—more work for him. Great.
Neo and the minty girl were off shopping after the whole clothing disaster during their fight. Roman had warned Neo about fire-resistant clothing—worth the investment, especially with unpredictable flaming demon attacks. But no! The clothes didn't come in pink! Seriously, did he do something wrong during her childhood development?
"Roman? You there?"
Rin's voice cut through his thoughts.
Right. The SDC shipment. Roman shook his head, refocusing.
"Well, that bitch ordered me to prep for it with those mutts before all this crap went down. She knew about the shipment and wanted the whole lot. She even had that bull hand over the White Fang's Bullheads for the mission."
He grimaced at the thought of Cinder. She had completely derailed his plans. What a damn nuisance. And a bitch, too.
Rin hummed thoughtfully, his usual thinking pose forming as he stroked his chin, index finger grazing his jaw. Then, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"…And what about the Dust you stole? Where did you hide it?"
Roman's eyes narrowed as he caught the implication, connecting the dots that Rin had hinted at. A grin spread across Roman's face as he leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
"Now you're talking like a true thief."
Roman said, his voice dripping with amusement.
"I'll write down the warehouse address. And if you're thinking what I'm thinking…"
The two shared a quiet chuckle, their chemistry instantly clicking. Thieves of the same craft always understood each other without words.
"So?"
Rin continued with a raised eyebrow.
"Would you like to get back your Dust? You know, the stuff Cinder took from you forcefully, which was very rude, even though you earned it fair and square?"
Roman's smirk widened. Oh, this was going to be fun. A thief after his own heart.
"Of course. I don't think Cinder would mind if I reclaimed what's rightfully mine."
"Perfect."
Rin said, his tone now all business, a shift that was a complete 180 from his usual attitude.
"Give me every detail about that warehouse. The number of men Cinder assigned before your 'death,' the layout, the number of rooms—everything. We'll hit it in a few days, once I've gathered more supplies."
Rin stood, tapping away at his Scroll, his focus completely on the task at hand.
"But first… You two need disguises"
He said without looking up.
"I don't want Cinder catching wind that you're still breathing. I'll contact my guy to send over some gear. Don't worry; it'll fit you like a glove."
Roman couldn't help but smirk as he mockingly draped himself in an exaggerated pose, his hand clutching his chest.
"Oh, you pervert. How do you know my sizes? And Neo's?"
Rin simply rolled his eyes, dismissing the comment with a flick of his hand.
"Just get something that won't connect you to the 'dead' Roman Torchwick. And make it quick."
Roman chuckled to himself, already excited for the heist ahead. It was going to be a blast.
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Told you blue suits you.
A sentence in pink appeared in his vision before shattering like glass.
"Fuck off, Neo."
Roman grumbled with annoyance, fiddling with his now blue hair. The damn ice cream-colored lady had forced him down and cut his hair, transforming his long locks of orange into a short, swept-to-the-side style in a shade of navy blue.
She even threw away his expensive makeup set!
He felt so naked without his mascara...
"You know what I see? An attempt at an emo without makeup on."
Emerald noted with a smirk, prompting Roman to glare at her. Ugh, she was just begging to be strangled.
"Alright, no more playing. We have a heist to perform, people."
Rin said. With a flair of blue flames, his outfit changed into his Phantom Thief attire, all without the demon mask.
Roman looked down at his clothes, relieved that at least he had chosen them himself. The Gods know that if Neo had picked them, he would have burned them himself.
Roman Torchwick typically wore bright colors to distract and pull all the attention toward him, while Neopolitan hid and struck from unexpected angles. It was their tactic whenever the duo went anywhere.
Now, though, the Phantom Thief—name unchosen for now after many suggestions (he was leaning towards Rin's suggestion, Opera)—wore a jet-black and navy blue two-piece suit with gold-accented gloves and a silver Phantom Thieves pin on his breast pocket to complement his blue hair. He also wore a gold snake mask that reached his chin. Roman Torchwick was flashy, but his current guise was the opposite: refined, subtle, and designed to blend into the shadows.
Neo, on the other hand, used her Semblance, Overactive Imagination, to disguise herself as a new person. Overactive Imagination had the same concept as Emerald's illusion powers but was physical rather than mental. This meant Neo's illusions lasted until they broke due to damage or if her Aura shattered. It was handy for infiltrating and getting blackmail on his competition.
Ah, good times… until that bitch came and ruined everything.
As for her current disguise, Neo transformed into Jasmine, but with more... indecent clothing. She completely ditched her usual outfit, tossing it out the window. Instead, she wore a black skintight latex catsuit, complete with a tail, white thigh-high boots with black soles, and fingerless gloves. After some pestering, she added a white fur jacket that reached her stomach to cover herself slightly.
Sigh… Even after so many years, she remained so rebellious towards him.
And so, the Phantom Thief Lynx was born, sporting a black and red lynx mask that covered half of her face, complete with cat ears.
Roman couldn't help but notice Rin shooting glances towards the two girls in their skin-tight outfits. No matter how quickly Rin's onyx eyes flickered, a thief with ten years of experience like Roman had eyesight that caught even the smallest details.
And the minty girly confessed while Rin was away that she was struggling. Hah! He was definitely checking them out.
He couldn't blame the boy, though; their outfits were quite "revealing." It's natural for men to appreciate women like fine wine. However, Roman preferred his wine aged much older, with a more refined taste. After all, he wasn't a pedophile like those Atlas elites.
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White Fang Goon POV
It was supposed to be a simple job. Guard the Dust, make sure that no one other than the boss or his associates came close to the warehouse, maybe even stab a human or two. But why, why were the Phantom Thieves here?!
Just when the boss had something to do, dammit, what was this timing?! Sparks flew as the demon in black sliced through their ranks like butter, shattering Aura after Aura like it was nothing. His White Fang brothers couldn't even touch the black figure; whether it was close combat or long-range shooting, the demon simply dodged and parried every single attempt.
Worse, the demon had backup, with gunshots firing from the ceiling, hitting anything that moved. The Phantom Thieves were too coordinated with their attacks. His brothers could only fight to die by the blade, or run and get shot in the back.
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He hid behind a crate the moment he felt something was off, his instincts yelling at him that something was going to happen before suddenly—
*CRASH!*
The sound of glass shattering caused everyone to look up. A black figure with a white demon mask gracefully landed on the ground.
"Good evening, gentlemen. I believe there is some… Dust hidden somewhere in the area."
"Who the hell are you supposed to be, human?" One of his brothers growled as the figure simply placed his hand on his chin in thought.
"… Well, I'm sure you've heard about us…" Before they saw a wide grin. "You can call us the Phantom Thieves."
That was when shit hit the fan.
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Struggling to breathe, he finally got the idea to call the boss. With shaky hands, he fiddled with his Scroll, missing a few taps. He was just a few steps away from calling the boss when suddenly he noticed something.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
*GRAB!*
Suddenly, an arm grabbed him from behind the crate, pulling him and throwing him into a clearing. The throw caused him to lose his Scroll, so he frantically searched for it.
"Looking for this?" The Phantom Thief said with a cocky smirk, dangling the Scroll from his fingers. The remaining members stayed quiet, though he could feel their amused gazes on him. He gulped nervously.
"Y-Yes?"
"Hmmm…"
The Phantom Thief scrolled through his Scroll before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath his feet with a clean stomp.
"Sorry, Mr. Faunus, but no witnesses."
He aimed a gun at him. The rest did the same. The goon raised his arms, trying to think of a way out of this.
"W-Wait—!"
"All Out Attack, ladies and gentlemen."
*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!*
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