Chapter 41: The Living Loot

Oddly, the thief struck multiple places at once.

Besides the first resident who reported a theft, several others came to me with similar news.

“There’s more than one thief? Are they organized…?”
No one had glimpsed the culprit.

The feast ended abruptly, and we headed to the site of one theft.

“Bbi bbi.”
Before entering the shop, the pig-bird pointed at the ground with its wing tip.

In the dim light, I nearly missed it—a transparent thread trailed from the spool, stretching into the distance like a tail.

I carefully picked it up.
“If we follow this, we might find where it leads. How are there no footprints? Does the thief have wings?”

“Angel, here are the spools!”
Three tied items had vanished, each leaving a thread trail, all pointing the same way.

“You’re going after the thief?” Bernell asked.

“Yes. If they didn’t notice the threads, they might be careless…”

“It could be dangerous. Shouldn’t I go alone?”

“I don’t sense much danger.”

If they were truly dangerous, wouldn’t they have harmed residents by now? It’s just missing items.

“I’ll follow the threads,” I said, taking the spools from the residents.

“Please catch the thief!” they pleaded.

“Don’t expect to recover the items. Let’s go.”

Handing Bernell and the pig-bird a spool each, we followed, winding the threads.

The threads were nearly spent, suggesting a long journey. Their stillness implied the thief had stopped.

“They don’t seem to move fast.”

We quickened our pace, gathering thread as we went.

The dense buildings thinned, leading to a quiet path. Curious residents trailing us fell away, leaving silence.

“Oh, it’s cut here.”

“Bbi bbi.”

“Mine’s cut too,” Bernell said.

The threads ended at a low mountain. The thief must’ve noticed them, but the path clearly led upward.

It was a modest hill, unlikely to get us lost, and despite the night, mystical moonlight and scattered lanterns lit the way like day.

“Bbi…”
The pig-bird whined, eyeing the climb. Its short legs weren’t up for it.

“Should we leave you…?”

“Bbi bbi!”
It protested, preferring the climb over being left alone.

So, I pushed its bulky frame up the strenuous path.

Don’t expect to catch the thief. Think of it as a hike.

The sweet scent of orchards wafted on the breeze, and the crisp air was refreshing. I wished the café had a hill like this for strolls, but its tiny plot offered no such luxury.

Come to think of it, I’ve been cooped up at the café. Visiting other dimensions more would be nice.

“There’s something up there,” Bernell said, pointing to a ridge.

“A cave?”

We found a suspiciously obvious cave.

Oddly, we hadn’t seen a single animal or trace thereof. Even nocturnal creatures were absent, which was strange.

“Not an animal’s cave,” I noted.

No bears or tigers to fear, then.

“I’ll lead,” Bernell said, drawing his sword.

I checked the ground—no animal or human tracks. Was this not the thief’s hideout?

“No presence detected,” Bernell said.

“Hmm…”

I lit a resident’s lantern, its soft yellow glow illuminating the cave.

“Looks like an ordinary cave.”

Our footsteps echoed; no other sounds.

“Bbi…”
The pig-bird clung to me, disliking the dark, hindering my steps.

“Huh?”

Deeper in, a wide chamber appeared, filled with a mountain of items, like a junkyard.

If I used Insight here, everything would probably glow golden.

“No way… this is the thief’s hideout?”

I spotted the familiar broom, still tied with thread, along with other marked items. Definitely stolen.

“Why steal just to pile them here?”

The thief’s motive baffled me—not selling or displaying, just hoarding. A collector’s obsession?

“Now that we’ve found the hideout, we could stake out nearby and catch them.”

“There aren’t many hiding spots inside,” Bernell noted.

“Let’s head out.”

Leaving the items untouched, we exited. The cave, mid-hill, was surrounded by trees and bushes—good for hiding.

Concealing the pig-bird was tricky, so we dug a thigh-deep pit, placed it inside, and covered it with leaves.

“Piggy, you’ll need a bath when we get home.”

“Bbi bbi.”

The thefts were recent; the thief might return to check their haul.

Snore… snore…

Waiting, I dozed off to the pig-bird’s snoring.

Tap tap.

Bernell woke me. “Shh, there’s movement inside.”

“Did someone enter?”

He shook his head.

We’d checked for other entrances—no rat-holes even. Bernell would’ve sensed anyone hiding.

“No one went in, yet there’s movement?”

“Could I have missed it while dozing?”

“I didn’t sleep,” he said firmly.

“So, they appeared inside? What a peculiar thief. Let’s go.”

We approached, and indeed, sounds came from deep within—not just one or two presences, but a commotion like the crowded temple, making me tense.

Multiple thefts suggested a group, but this many?

Clatter, flutter, thud.

Strange noises grew closer. Reaching the chamber, I doubted my eyes.

“What… is this? My eyes aren’t playing tricks, right?”

“I see it too,” Bernell said.

The items were alive.

Clothes moved as if worn, bowls danced with clatters, and the broom swept the floor. Their lively motions didn’t seem puppeted by strings.

“…”

The items froze upon spotting us, as if startled, then went still, pretending to be ordinary.

“I saw you moving. No use pretending.”

Flinch. The broom trembled briefly, then stopped.

“I’ve seen divine birds and talking cats, but self-moving items? A ghost’s prank?”

I inspected the broom—nothing odd.

“Maybe there’s no thief, and the items ran away themselves?”

Bernell neither agreed nor disagreed.

“That would explain why no one’s seen the thief.”

I shook the broom, but it stayed limp.

“Hey, I saw you move. Stop pretending.”

The items remained motionless, as if our earlier sight was an illusion.

“If you keep this up…”

I gripped the broom like a bat, aiming at the ground. It vibrated in fear.

“See? You can move. It’s like they’re alive.”

Defeated, the broom wriggled free and fled across the chamber.

Its movement triggered others to stir.

“With so many, it’s a bit creepy…”

“Bbi bbi!”

Unlike me, the pig-bird gleefully chased a rolling ball.

I recalled tales of spirits inhabiting old items, sleeping as objects by day and acting at night.

“Wait…”

Wishstone, born from prayers in a statue, was this dimension’s god.

Perhaps these items, infused with affection, gained life through his influence.

Residents who birthed a god through prayer might not find moving items odd.

“Go back to your owners!”

“…”

They writhed, refusing.

What an anticlimactic end. Moving items were bizarre, but still.

“Bbi bbi!”

The pig-bird, done with the ball, chased dancing clothes.

“Some of these would be perfect Nekomata toys…”

Cats loved moving toys; these would thrill them.

As if reading my mind, the items trembled in fear.

“We need to report this to the residents and Wishstone. Their movement might tie to his authority.”

“Strange indeed,” Bernell said.

The thefts, causing resident unease, were just items escaping on their own.

We told residents the cave’s location, but none retrieved their items, believing they had reasons to flee. Their response left me speechless.

I informed Wishstone, but likely due to residents’ presence, he didn’t reply.

With the thief case closed, it was time to fulfill my real purpose here.

“You’re sure? A staff for finding herbs?”

“Yes, or rather, used for herb hunting. My father, a herbalist, never let it go.”

While pondering ingredients, a resident mentioned a lost herb-finding staff.

An idea struck, and I rushed to the cave.

I expected the items to have relocated, but they remained.

“Herb-finding staff, come forward.”

“…”

Finding one staff in the pile was tough, so I called out.

“Don’t make me disturb the others.”

A gnarled wooden staff hurriedly emerged.

“I heard rare herbs grow here. I think they’re the ingredient I need.”

The café occasionally sold medicinal teas, popular in winter for colds.

“Find me a rare herb, and I won’t bother you.”

Observing the items, I noticed they acted per their nature—brooms swept, bowls tried to hold things.

A herb-finding staff should find herbs.

Resigned, the staff hobbled forward.