The bagman's hands shook so violently he misdialed the number three times.
Finally, the call connected. There was no greeting, only a silent, waiting void on the other end.
"H-he…" the man stammered, sweat dripping from his brow onto the scattered papers on his desk.
"He was here. The Fox. The Grinning Fox."
A cold, dispassionate voice finally spoke. "Explain."
"He came through the roof! Like lightning! Scarlet lightning! He took down all the security—B-ranks, A-ranks, it didn't matter! He just… pointed at them and they fell!"
The words tumbled out in a hysterical rush. "He knew about the drops! He knew about the Grey Fog! He took the briefcase! All the money, the ledgers… everything!"
The voice on the line remained icy calm. "Did he ask questions?"
"Yes! He asked about you! About the Grey Fog! I told him I didn't know anything! I swear I did!"
"And then?"
"He… he told me to tell you something." The bagman swallowed, his throat dry with fear.
"He said… 'Tell them the Grinning Fox took their money. Tell them I am coming for them.'"
There was a long, heavy silence on the line. The bagman could almost feel the temperature drop through the phone.
"Understood," the voice said, flat and final. The line went dead.
The bagman slumped in his chair, trembling. He had delivered the message. He had no idea if that would save him or condemn him.
---
Yuhon slipped through his bedroom window at 2:35 AM, the adrenaline finally ebbing, leaving behind a deep, satisfying fatigue.
The briefcase, now scuffed and slightly smoky, felt heavy in his hand.
He stashed it under his bed, collapsed onto the mattress, and was asleep in seconds, dreaming of scarlet lightning and gaudy neon lights.
The next morning, he carried the briefcase downstairs with the gravity of someone presenting a holy relic.
His parents were at the breakfast table, his father scrutinizing a seed catalog, his mother sipping tea while reading a novel.
"Mom. Dad," Yuhon began, his voice still rough with sleep. "We need to talk."
They both looked up. Their eyes flicked to the briefcase, then back to his face.
"Did you buy a new lunchbox, dear?" Aoqi asked mildly. "It looks a bit large."
"It's not a lunchbox," Yuhon said, heaving it onto the kitchen table with a solid thump.
He popped the latches and opened it, revealing neat stacks of cash and several thick, handwritten ledgers.
Zerkon let out a low, appreciative whistle. "That's a lot of… pocket money. Big group project?"
"You could say that," Yuhon said, a grin tugging at his lips.
"Remember that casino I mentioned? The Youth's Gold? I, uh, paid it a visit last night. This was just sitting in a back room. It belongs to the Grey Fog."
He expected shock. Concern. Maybe a lecture. Instead, his parents exchanged a look.
"How thoughtful of them to package it so neatly," Aoqi said, picking up a stack of bills and flicking through it with the practiced ease of a bank teller.
"Saves us the trouble of counting it."
Zerkon reached over and picked up one of the ledgers, flipping through pages of coded transactions.
"Hmph. Their bookkeeping is atrocious. Amateur hour."
Yuhon stared, bewildered. "Aren't you going to ask… I don't know… if I'm okay? If there was trouble?"
"Were you okay?" Zerkon asked, not looking up from the ledger.
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Was there trouble?" Aoqi inquired, setting the money down.
"A little, but I handled it—"
"Then there's nothing to ask," Zerkon concluded, closing the ledger with a snap.
"You saw a problem, you handled it. You even brought home the proceeds. A good day's work."
Aoqi smiled warmly at her son. "It's very generous of you, Yuhon. But really, you should keep it. Spend it as you want. There's no problem."
"Keep it? But… it's a fortune!"
Zerkon shrugged his massive shoulders. "We have enough money saved from our previous… game designer and developer work… to live without any problem."
He said the job title with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.
Aoqi nodded. "It was a very successful indie studio. Sold for a tidy sum. So please, buy yourself something nice. A new jacket, perhaps."
Her eyes twinkled. "A flame-resistant one."
Yuhon could only stand there, the briefcase of illicit cash suddenly feeling as mundane as a bag of groceries.
His parents' nonchalance was a force of nature more baffling than any S-rank hunter.
---
Meanwhile, in a sleek, modern office atop the Crimson Phoenix guild tower, a very different conversation was taking place.
Guild Master Sarah Xin, the Crimson Empress, pointed a remote at a large viewscreen, her expression thunderous.
The news played a dramatic report on the "Mysterious Vigilante Attack on Youth's Gold Casino," complete with footage of the shattered roof and interviews with panicked patrons.
"—authorities are baffled by the attacker's methods, describing the damage as 'akin to a localized lightning storm.' No demands were made, but sources confirm a significant amount of cash was taken from the casino's secure—"
Sarah muted the TV and turned her glare towards her daughter, Lara, who was lounging on a luxurious sofa, examining her nails.
"You," Sarah said, her voice dangerously calm.
Lara looked up, feigning innocence. "Me?"
"You brat!" Sarah snapped, crossing the room in two swift strides and delivering a sharp, open-palmed slap to the back of Lara's head. Thwack.
"Ow! Mom!"
"Why didn't you clear that casino?" Sarah demanded, looming over her.
"This news cycle should be featuring the Crimson Phoenix delivering justice, not some… some lone wolf in a fox mask! The publicity! The recruitment boost!"
Lara rubbed her head, smiling wryly.
"Uh, Mom, what's there in being covered by some news featuring small fries? We are a big guild."
She tried for a tone of lofty professionalism. "We shouldn't focus on crumbs when there's a whole banquet of real crime to deal with. It's beneath us."
Thwack. Another slap, this one on the shoulder.
"Don't you try to act like you don't understand the point!" Sarah growled.
"You just left him there after he said 'no' to your recruitment pitch? You let him walk away with the prize and the headlines?"
Lara chuckled, shifting on the sofa to avoid another blow. "Mom, other than letting him go, what exactly should I have done? Tackled him? He's stronger than me."
Sarah's hand, raised for another strike, paused in mid-air. Her sharp eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
"I said he's stronger than me," Lara repeated, a genuine note of respect in her voice.
"The power he displayed at the casino? It was no fluke. At the warehouse, he was just observing. Last night, he wasn't holding back. It was… formidable. Maybe even…"
Sarah's raised hand slowly lowered. A calculating glint replaced the anger in her eyes.
"Hmm. So you are saying that to recruit him, I need to meet him personally."
A slow, predatory grin spread across her lips. "To verify this strength for myself."
Lara laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, you can't. He's stronger than yo—"
THWACK.
"Ow! Will you stop that?!"
Sarah snorted, undeterred. "Well, maybe he is stronger, but I still need to meet him to verify that."
Her grin widened. "A hunter that powerful, operating alone? It's a waste. A delicious challenge."
Lara sighed, knowing that particular gleam in her mother's eye all too well.
It was the look she got when she saw a legendary monster that needed slaying or an impossibly rare artifact that needed acquiring.
"Well, do what you wish. Just don't say I didn't warn you when he melts your favorite tiara."
"He wouldn't dare," Sarah said, her grin turning feral,"I'm his future boss."
She turned back to the viewscreen, which was now showing a blurry still image of the Grinning Fox wreathed in scarlet energy.
"I just need to… extend a more persuasive invitation."