Chapter 40: The Thread of Insight

If the pig-bird and Bernell were here, they’d likely scold me for using Latte Art again after its toll. But they were outside, so what did it matter?

The sweet scent of jewel berries filled the air as a radiant white pattern materialized.

With Latte Art’s effect, my vision sharpened.

I was wary after paying dearly for overuse, but thankfully, no harm came.

Each time I blinked, information about what I saw flooded my mind like a tide.

“Wow…”

I’d used it to find clues, but I gained unexpected insight.

Mogu’s wooden bowls glowed with a strange aura, varying in color, intensity, and size.

The tribute bowls shimmered with deep crimson light.

Ordinary items like carpets or chairs emitted a faint white glow.

Scanning the workshop’s display, I saw crafted items with a soft pink hue, but none matched the tribute bowls’ intensity.

“You said you put extra effort into the stolen bowl?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mogu replied. “It was larger, requiring balance, and meant to hold precious harvested fruits, so I worked harder.”

Perhaps these auras visualized the care and affection poured into objects.

What if the thief targeted items with strong auras?

I couldn’t see the stolen bowl’s aura, but the thief’s choice of one specific bowl, combined with prior clues, made this plausible.

The jewel berry smoothie’s Latte Art lasted only ten minutes. I had to act fast.

I rushed outside, scanning every object in sight, running if needed.

“Bbi bbi!”

“What’s going on?” Bernell called as he and the pig-bird hurried after me.

Bernell caught up quickly, but the pig-bird’s waddling couldn’t keep pace.

Its anxious cries forced me to stop as the gap widened.

“There!”

Most shop displays glowed faintly—not what I sought.

Then, I spotted an object radiating blinding golden light and pointed excitedly. “There! And there too! An artisan dimension, indeed.”

I found more golden-glowing items.

My odd behavior drew curious stares from residents.

“What are you seeing?” Bernell asked as the Insight effect ended.

My vision normalized, the objects’ glow vanishing instantly.

Memorizing the locations, I headed to the first golden item—a weathered broom outside a food shop, made of tough plant stalks tied to a pole.

Despite its ordinary look, it was special.

“Who owns this shop?” I asked.

“Me,” a middle-aged woman replied, rushing out.

“This broom is yours, right?”

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“It’s likely the thief’s next target.”

“What? Why this broom…?”

She’d crafted it, replacing worn parts with carefully chosen materials, even carving the handle. It brimmed with care and affection.

“What should I do? It’d be inconvenient to lose…”

She probably wondered if it needed guarding like treasure.

“I’ll think about theft prevention later. I need to check other items.”

I visited all the golden items: brooms, aprons, vases, animal figurines, bowls—nearly every other house had one, or it was already stolen.

“Truly an angel, spotting the thief’s next targets.”

“I don’t see the difference, but if the angel says so, it must be true.”

I warned owners to prepare and racked my brain for a plan.

“How’d you know? Did you find the thief’s mark?” Bernell asked.

“I used Latte Art to boost my Insight temporarily.”

Bernell’s face twisted; the pig-bird gaped at me.

“Whoops.”

“Your authority? You nearly didn’t wake up last time, and you used it again?” Bernell scolded.

“Bbi bbi!”

The pig-bird, snapping out of shock, circled me, checking for harm.

“Bbi!”

“That’s always been like that.”

“Bbi bbi!”

“My clothes are wrinkled from running, not that.”

“Bbi bbi!”

“My shoes are dirty because I was running… I’m fine, really!”

Who’s looking after whom here?

“I only slept so long because I overused it. That won’t happen again. I’ll respect the cooldown. I just used it, so I won’t again until after I sleep.”

“Bbi bbi!”

“I’ve always been shorter than Bernell… Wait, how am I understanding you?”

While calming the pig-bird, a shop caught my eye, selling fabrics and threads. A spool of transparent thread gleamed in the sunlight, drawing me in.

I picked it up, surprised by its lightness. The loose end was soft like hair, not stiff like fishing line. In a bundle, it appeared faintly white, but a single strand was nearly invisible.

“What’s this thread used for?” I asked.

An elderly man, likely the owner, smiled kindly. “It’s spun from dew spider silk.”

“Wouldn’t spider silk break easily?”

I tugged a strand gently; it held firm, stronger than hair.

“It’s tough?”

“Yes, specially treated to resist breaking. Used when you don’t want visible stitches.”

“Wow…”

Testing it more, a folktale about trailing someone with thread came to mind.

Maybe…

“Can I buy a few spools to catch the thief?”

I realized I had no local currency. At the café, I could barter crops, but here?

“Take as many as you need. Consider it a tribute to the angels,” the owner said.

“Even so, taking it for free…”

“You said it’s for catching the thief. It’s an honor you chose my goods.”

His kindness made me sheepish. Are people allowed to be this nice? Did they take after Wishstone, or truly believe we were angels?

If other dimensions knew, they’d exploit this place’s innocence.

“Then, five spools…”

I took the thread to a golden item, tying it securely while pondering.

“Will this work?”

Suspecting the thief might be among the residents, I worked in private or used Bernell and the pig-bird as shields.

I hid the loose thread, ensuring it’d unravel if pulled, hoping to trace the thief’s path, even if they cut it.

“I shouldn’t say this, but let’s stay until the thief strikes.”

There was no guarantee they’d target my chosen items, and with so many, staking out everywhere was impossible. No need to start now, though.

I asked the owners to inform me if their items vanished.

“Think this’ll work?” Bernell asked.

“Honestly, if it doesn’t, I might give up. I’ve no better ideas, and staking out endlessly is too costly.”

I wanted to build rapport for café vessels, but their “angel” belief already secured that. Now, I was just following through.

Vessels were important, but café operations mattered more, so I wouldn’t linger too long.

While awaiting news, I dragged Bernell and the pig-bird to hunt for tableware. Residents, learning my interest, brought items to me—teaspoons, dessert spoons, teapots. I wanted them all but feared Wishstone might think me greedy.

“What to do? I want tableware more than ingredients here. I’d love extra bowls for when the Nekomata break them, or those glass straws for smoothies…”

That night, the residents hosted a grand feast to welcome us, rivaling Abelgart Manor’s banquets. Even Bernell, quick to complain, softened, satisfied by the artisan chefs’ skill.

As I worried about sleeping arrangements post-feast, someone rushed up.

“Angel, one of your chosen items was stolen! I was at the feast and noticed late. Maybe the thief struck because the owner was away?”

The thief didn’t keep us waiting long.