Super.Dawg
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Chapter 213
🕑 Added 2026-01-09 10:12:02 +0000 UTCIt was finally the first day of the weekend. The day everything had been quietly orbiting for weeks now, tightening like a drawn bowstring.
Leo and Suri sat across from each other inside the carriage, the lantern light swaying with every rattle of the wheels. Suri’s purple dress drank in the glow, the fabric shifting between shadow and sheen as the carriage lurched forward. She looked composed, elegant even, but Kana could see the telltale stillness in her posture. Suri only sat that straight when she was already running through contingencies in her head.
Leo, by contrast, looked every bit the noble he was meant to be. White and black formalwear pressed to perfection, a gold sash crossing his chest like a declaration. The sigil embroidered near his collar caught the light with each movement, subtle yet impossible to ignore. He leaned back, arms folded, eyes flicking between their faces.
The carriage rattled over uneven stone, wood creaking, metal joints groaning like they resented being dragged into whatever this night would become.
“You guys are planning something tonight,” Leo said at last, voice casual but eyes sharp. “You don’t really want to tell me?”
Boris nearly choked on air.
“What?” he said too quickly. “No. Of course not. We’re just participating in an auction! That’s all. Normal stuff.” He laughed, a hollow sound that died halfway out of his throat.
Leo raised an eyebrow. Slowly.
“You’re so obvious,” he said. “You three will never buy something expensive. Not unless someone’s forcing you, and it’s pretty safe here so I don’t really need a guard.. Wait. You’re not going to steal something from the auction right?”
Kana closed her eyes for a heartbeat. The carriage rocked again, as if agreeing with Leo.
She exhaled and spoke evenly. “Your father is also suspicious. That’s why we promised him we wouldn’t involve you in whatever business we have tonight.”
Kana touched her chin as she muttered,”Stealing something from the auction… I can probably do something like that..”
Leo gulped.
Kana grinned,”I’m just jesting.”
Suri turned her head, nodding solemnly. “Right. Blame your father for us. Not telling you.”
Leo stared at them. Then he leaned back, gaze drifting to the small window as lantern-lit streets slid past outside.
“…That doesn’t make me feel better,” he muttered.
His frown deepened, disbelief settling into something heavier. Concern, maybe. Or the quiet irritation of being excluded while knowing, with absolute certainty, that exclusion meant danger.
…..
When they arrived, the scale of it stopped them cold.
Carriages crowded the plaza like iron beetles drawn to a single glowing lantern. Wheels crunched against stone, drivers shouted directions, guards barked orders, and the night hummed with wealth and intention. The building ahead rose above it all, a massive circular dome of layered stone and reinforced crystal, its surface etched with old sigils meant to endure time, mana, and greed in equal measure.
This place had many masks. A theater when the kingdom wanted spectacle. A hall when the king wanted obedience. Tonight, it was something expensive.
An auction house.
“I think I chose the wrong clothes,” Suri muttered as she stepped down from the carriage, her breath fogging faintly in the winter air. The cold crept through silk without apology.
Boris clicked his tongue, already tugging his cloak tighter. “Good for you.”
Suri shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass.
“Don’t worry,” Leo said, adjusting his gloves as if the chaos around them were nothing more than background noise. “They placed enchantments inside. Temperature stabilization, air flow, even sound dampening. It’ll be warmer once we’re in.”
Suri stuck her tongue out at Boris anyway, because some traditions were sacred.
Kana’s [High Awareness] flared, not like a switch, but like a tide pulling back before a storm. Voices overlapped in layers, dozens at first, then hundreds as she let the skill stretch. Laughter coated in politeness. Bargaining whispered behind fans. The soft, careful cadence of people used to speak without being overheard.
Bodyguards shifted their weight. Cloaks brushed stone. Hidden weapons kissed leather.
Kana sifted through it all, searching for friction. For intent sharpened toward theft rather than purchase. For a mind already planning an escape.
Nothing.
She exhaled slowly.
Maybe it’s too early.
If the Phantom Thief truly existed as the rumors claimed, they would not arrive with the first wave. They would come when the room was full, when attention fractured, when greed was loud enough to cover footsteps.
The dome’s great doors stood open now, warm light spilling out like breath from a living thing.
“Let’s enter,” Kana said.
Inside, the difference was immediate.
Warmth wrapped around them, subtle and even, as if the air itself had decided to be hospitable. The interior of the dome was vast, layered seating rising in concentric arcs around a central platform. Chandeliers of mana-lit crystal hovered overhead, casting light that never flickered. Every surface gleamed, not with excess, but with confidence.
This was a place that had never feared being robbed.
Nobles filled the seats in carefully arranged clusters, each accompanied by a few capable bodyguards dressed much like Kana and Boris. Cloaks hid armor, hid weapons, hid intent. The quiet murmur of conversation rolled through the hall like surf against stone.
Kana’s eyes moved constantly, measuring distances, noting exits, tracing shadows along the walls.
She had been to an auction before. The one in the empire.
This was different.
This was the capital.
“That’s our seat,” Leo said, pointing toward a section midway up the dome, slightly to the side. A good vantage point. Not too close to draw attention. Not too far to miss details.
Kana nodded, already memorizing the routes between rows, the angles of the stairways, the way the light fell.
Somewhere in this building, someone would try to steal very expensive treasures.
…..
The kid ran like his life depended on it—because it did.
Boots slapped against damp stone as he tore through the alleyway, breath ragged, arms pumping too fast for someone his age. Behind him came the heavier thunder of adult men, curses spilling from their mouths, rage sharp and impatient.
They weren’t going to kill him.
Not outright.
But they’d beat him until he forgot how to run.
Janus was so young at that time, he didn't even have a class yet. He watched from the corner, half-hidden by shadow and rotting crates, eyes calm. He never doubted the outcome. That boy was the fastest among them—faster than fear, faster than desperation. That was why Janus had chosen him.
The kid burst past the corner.
Now!
Janus stepped out just long enough for the exchange. The boy didn’t slow. Didn’t even look. A pouch flew from Janus’s hand, caught mid-run with practiced ease.
The boy grinned—just for a heartbeat—then vanished down the alley again.
Perfect.
Janus turned, lifted the lid of a nearby crate, and dropped the pouch inside. The coins clinked softly before settling. Another member would retrieve it later, once the heat died down. They practiced the same scene where Janus lost his count. It would be weird if they didn’t execute it right.
Then Janus ran.
Not away—but straight into danger.
He took a deep breath. “One. Two.”
He sprinted toward the chasing men and deliberately stumbled, slamming shoulder-first into the front runner. The alley was narrow; momentum did the rest. Bodies collided. Someone cursed. Another shouted in pain as they tangled together.
“Ouch! Ouch!” Janus cried, clutching his side as if wounded.
“What the hell are you doing here, kid?” one of the men barked, bent forward with hands on his knees, chest heaving.
Janus hunched, eyes wide, hands raised. “I—I was just peeing, I’m going back to my parents.” he said, glancing nervously over his shoulder, as if embarrassed.
Another man straightened, eyes sharp. “Did you see a kid running through here?”
Janus nodded quickly. “Yeah. Earlier. I think… that way.” He pointed down the opposite alley, arm shaking just enough to sell it.
The men exchanged looks—then one frowned.
“Wait,” he said slowly. “This kid’s suspicious.”
Janus cursed internally. He’d scrubbed himself clean. Changed clothes. Made sure he looked like a harmless commoner instead of a slum rat. Still—some people just had instincts that refused to sleep.
Rough hands grabbed him. He was lifted off the ground and shaken. Coins jingled as they spilled from his pockets—only a few copper pieces.
“That’s it?” one of them muttered.
“Hold him,” the leader snapped. “The rest of you—come with me.”
Before they could move, voices cut through the alley.
“Janus!”
Two adults hurried toward them—a man and a woman, both in their thirties. The man’s face was tight with worry. The woman dropped to her knees and wrapped Janus in a fierce embrace.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the man said sharply. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh gods,” the woman sobbed, clutching him. “I was so scared.”
She’s better than our practice.
Janus froze—then melted into the role.
“Did my son do something wrong?” the man asked, gaze hard now.
The guards hesitated.
“He’s… your son?” one said. “No—we just found him alone.”
The woman didn’t wait for permission. She grabbed Janus’s hand and pulled him away, muttering thanks and apologies as they disappeared down the alley.
Only when they turned the corner did Janus breathe again.
“Sol,” he said quietly, a grin tugging at his lips, “you were a bit nervous back there—but your acting’s getting better.”
Sol flushed beneath the fake beard. “Right?” he said, relief bleeding into pride. “I did great, didn’t I?”
Janus nodded.
As they walked, his thoughts drifted—not to the coins, but to the first time they’d ever done this. Their first gold. The weeks of watching. Mapping routes. Planning backups. Backup plans for the backup plans.
Everyone else cheered when the coin hit their palms.
Janus had been excited long before that.
The thinking. The puzzle. The feeling of a plan clicking into place.
The thrill of planning. Of preparation. That was when it had started.
Now, the continent whispered their name. Phantom Thief.
For some reason, Janus remembered their first gold coins earned or stolen might describe it better. “That was thirty years ago.” Janus muttered. He tilted his head toward the darkening sky. Lately, he’d felt close. To something bigger. Something just out of reach. He couldn’t put it into words—but tonight might be the night he might be able to grasp it.
He approached the auction house slowly, leaning heavily on a cane.
The disguise was perfect: hunched back, thick gray beard, trembling steps. Fine clothes worn with the exhaustion of age. Who would ever suspect a frail old man?
Security was tight. Too tight. One of their members was working inside so he was well aware of their traps.
It didn’t matter.. Janus smiled beneath the beard.
They didn’t know the Phantom Thief plan was simple.
He would bid.
He would buy the skill books.
Or rather—
He would pretend to.
Post note:
Janus' character showed a bit of insight on how master base classes earned(like Swordmaster) just to be clear, he’s not a thiefmaster 😂 Will show on the next chap.
Hope you enjoy the chap 🙂
Comments
Baelor
Definitely over 30, 100% over 30 years lol
Spero
Wait hold old is Janus even? First he was hound or kid, now end of that scene he is an old man? Am I missing something here? And yes I know that Janus is the roman god of doors and portals and the two faced man of young and old, I still don't get how the young and old part for this Janus comes in though.
