A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 259 Innocence
The thief, regaining his senses, found himself somehow back inside the manor, where a man with an unrecognizable appearance stood blocking the gate. The man, carrying his cloth bag, asked with his mouth open, "Stealing? What would you do with this?"

The thief froze for half a second, then stammered, "You—"

He noticed something was wrong with the voice as soon as he spoke, and touched his face in alarm, only to find that his mask had been removed at some point. His expression turned completely grim.

"Give me the things." He held out his hand.

“Answer my question first,” Quinn said defiantly, lifting the bag with one hand.

The thief suddenly clenched his fist, and Quinn's bag vanished with that clench, snatched from the air into the man's hand!
“A thief?” Quinn exclaimed in surprise.

He sneered, "Not bad."

Immediately, he turned and fled into the forest.

But a moment later, the thief returned, looking at the bag that Quinn had somehow stolen back with a complicated expression, and asked with a very interesting expression, "Are you also a thief?"

Quinn wrapped the bag's cloth around his hand, making it difficult for theft to succeed when the person was on guard.

"This is the first time I've met someone in the same line of work," Quinn remarked. "So why did you steal these tattered notebooks?"

"."

The thief remained silent for a while.

"It seems you're one of the people here."

As soon as he finished speaking, his thin, short figure leaped up, and a cold glint flashed in the dark forest. Without warning, a poisoned dagger stabbed straight at Quinn's neck. Quinn had a cloth bag wrapped around one hand and a cane in the other, seemingly powerless to resist.

The two were only a few steps apart, and in the blink of an eye, the thief, known for his speed, was caught in the crossfire. The dagger thrust diagonally upwards, and facing the tricky attack from the front, Quinn leaned back slightly. With a "click," the katana was drawn, and the two swords, one long and one short, collided in the darkness, creating a startling spark.

The thief was startled. In a fight between thieves, it's difficult to determine the difference in strength; it's usually a one-hit wonder. However, his full-force attack was effortlessly blocked by his opponent. The dagger nearly slipped from his hand due to the opponent's tricky parry, so he had no choice but to flip it to the side and watch his opponent warily.

"Sequence Seven?" Quinn estimated the power of the opponent's attack.

The thief, expressionless, examined the longsword in Quinn's hand, then slowly took two steps back, leaning against the tree trunk. He held the dagger in reverse behind his back, displaying a standard and cautious assassin's posture, a stark contrast to Quinn's samurai-like appearance with his sword held horizontally in front of him.

"Tachi, you're a thief, using this kind of weapon?"

The thief's tone was somewhat sarcastic.

Although the katana is a niche weapon, its size and length are undeniable, and its fighting style emphasizes power and force, with a single strike that has no chance of return, focusing solely on offense and not defense.

He had never seen a master wielding a katana, but subconsciously felt that this weapon was extremely unsuitable for a thief. With the assassin's weakness of being on the verge of death, there was no need to blindly pursue brute force and kill area. On the contrary, the precision and dexterity of using a dagger to control the arm and fingers were what a thief needed. The katana was too cumbersome.

He narrowed his eyes, and a scarlet line appeared on Quinn's neck and around his heart.

“I use a katana because I have class.” Quinn still held the katana in one hand, without putting down the cloth bag in his hand.

"court death--!!"

The thief let out a cold shout and vanished beneath the tree trunk in a flash. Quinn felt as if his eyes were playing tricks on him, and the already dark forest seemed to grow even darker. The thief probably possessed something strange that could interfere with the environment, just like the candlelight in the corridor had suddenly gone out earlier.

Quinn stood still, holding his katana.

He didn't search for the other party's whereabouts, letting his intuition take over the battle.

As an assassin, he too can see the line of death.

To avoid the extremely long parrying range of a katana, one must choose a position that best restricts the range of motion of the right hand.

There are only two angles: the heart or the neck.
The night was cleaved open, and a man descended from the sky, daggers in his hands.

That speed was terrifying.

Leaping from the branch, a lightning-fast thrust followed the shortest arc, arriving almost simultaneously with the rustling of leaves, aimed at Quinn's left shoulder from behind. Quinn held his katana in his right hand; defending this angle required a significant turn. Simply raising the sword, relying solely on forearm strength, was insufficient to block a full-force thrust that carried the weight of his entire body!
The distance between the two closed rapidly, and they succeeded!
Quinn opened his eyes and heard only the sound of wind being cut, rapid and sharp, as if he were being pressed into a line by the sudden assassin.

He raised his arm, held the dagger horizontally, his gaze focused on the arc of light on the blade. He didn't parry or slash, but rather, like a batter swinging a bat at an oncoming baseball, he swung the dagger!
when--

The long, trembling sound of blades clashing echoed as the person in the air felt a sudden lightness in their hand, only to be horrified to discover that their dagger had been deflected and shattered into pieces.

What kind of knife is this? It's so hard!

The tremor spread throughout his body, and he found himself momentarily exhausted.

However, this brief moment is the fatal flaw that ends the battle.

Quinn didn't even glance at the figure falling from the upper left. He twisted his body, took a step, and his feet, waist, and sword moved in a fluid motion. As the power from the earth was transmitted to his hand, the katana slashed horizontally, and blood flashed!
The thief flew sideways and crashed into a tree, hearing only the terrifying sound of the tree snapping under the force. This wasn't a knife; it was more like a train hurtling towards him.

He collapsed to the ground, his left hand, which he had hastily used to block the attack earlier, now reduced to bits of flesh and bone scattered all over the floor.

Using his only remaining hand to support himself on the tree, he struggled to his feet. After that knife wound, he could easily understand what was happening.

The opponent's physical abilities are far superior to his own.

Recalling the rumors about the thief Sequence Six and Sequence Five, he looked at Quinn's middle-aged face in horror and dared not take another step forward.

"Impossible, what sequence are you?"

Quinn swung his knife to wipe away the blood, and the fallen leaves were blown about by the wind.

“I am Ancoua, the Grindelwald School Affairs Officer. Answer me, what are you doing stealing these things?” He smiled and said, “You know how our school operates. If you don’t want to talk, come with me.”

“The academy, huh? Damn wizards.” The thief glared venomously at Quinn, then gave a bitter laugh. “Then I admit defeat.”

Quinn tightened his grip on the katana and threw it straight out, intending to deliver the final blow, but it was too late.

As soon as the man finished speaking, the shadow behind him suddenly reached out a "hand" and pulled him to the ground. The flying katana left only a long trail of blood as it futilely passed through the tree trunk, its terrifying weight almost splitting the tree in two.

As if some secret technique had been activated, all the surrounding shadows became disordered, turning into a murky black like ink. Quinn could only watch helplessly as a humanoid figure swam away from this sea of ​​shadows and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Before long, the shadow returned to normal.

Quinn didn't give chase; this was probably the guy's way of protecting himself. These kinds of mystical things related to shadows and darkness are often very evil, and they are difficult to deal with without restraint.

However, the cost of using it is also very high.

He lost an arm; if he uses that move again, he'll probably lose half his life.

Pulling the katana from the tree, the tree was pierced with a shocking crack. The katana looked slender, but it could actually be used as a heavy weapon like a greatsword. The thief had been fooled and never expected the katana to be so heavy.

Quinn carried the cloth bag back to the main building of the manor, making the way as if he were returning home.

The second floor.

study.

Amamiya Nene was sitting on the ground, lost in thought, completely unladylike.

Her long, washed hair hung down to the ground, as smooth and black as silk. She wore a silk nightgown with two loose straps that accentuated her curves.

This scene, which should have been incredibly beautiful, was utterly uninspiring; Amamiya Nene was utterly exhausted. Judging from her deep dark circles, she seemed to have barely slept since yesterday. An open book of the White Sect scriptures lay on her lap, and books on theology piled up like a small mountain beside her.

"It's so cold."

She hugged her shoulders and shrank back, looking up in the direction the wind was blowing in. The study door had been open sometime during the night, letting in the evening breeze. It was the height of summer, and even at night it wasn't exactly cool, but the mountain city was windy, and she was only wearing a nightgown. The frail and cold-sensitive Amamiya Nene stood up, sat down, and closed the door.

Her steps were somewhat unsteady, and after taking her first step, her pretty face crumpled, clearly in unbearable pain.

Upon returning, Amamiya Nene didn't sit on the floor again, but instead chose a chair. The chairs here weren't comfortable; the royal family valued solemnity, and the backs were straight, making her look like a curled-up cat.

On the table were cherry tomatoes, Amamiya Nene's favorite, but she only picked up the already cold strong tea, took a sip, and turned to look at the Mirror Lake outside the window. The moonlight was clear, and the person, more beautiful than the moon, was lost in thought.

Suddenly, a sleazy voice came from the side:
"Why, are you thinking about me?"

Amamiya Nene turned her head, only to find herself alone.

Her expression became blank, as if in a dream, tinged with melancholy and an inexplicable self-doubt. She rubbed her cheeks, surprisingly unsurprised by the strange occurrence of hearing a voice but seeing no one, and said dejectedly, "...Yeah, how could it be him... He should be asleep."

"What, are you not satisfied with me?"

A person suddenly jumped down from the ceiling, almost scaring Amamiya Nene out of her wits.

She screamed instinctively, and Quinn quickly covered her mouth, "Don't scream, don't scream, don't attract the enforcers!"

"Ah—!!!!" she was still screaming.

Quinn then remembered that he was still wearing 'Shelby's' face, so he had no choice but to tear off the fake mask and reveal his true face.

Amamiya Nene stopped screaming, and only two fierce eyes were visible on her face, which was covered by a cloth.

She kicked Quinn in the stomach with all her might, and her bare feet, painted with crimson nail polish, weren't satisfied, so she kicked him twice more in a fit of rage.

Thankfully Quinn is tough, otherwise he would have been kicked out of the pizza he had only half-digested.

"What's wrong? Is it really that serious? It's just a joke." He clutched his stomach and stepped aside, sensing that Amamiya Nene was in a bad mood for some reason.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Amamiya Nene glared at him. "Who gave you permission to come in?"

"Isn't that because I care about you? I was worried you hadn't turned back, so I came to check on you."

Seeing her harsh tone, Quinn quickened his pace: "Do you think I'm like you, leaving your unconscious companion to sleep while you come back alone?"

"I want you to take care of it?"

Her voice was very tense.

“You might be dead now.” Quinn threw the thief’s bag on the ground, and the stolen notebooks slid out.

Amamiya Nene paused for a moment, then said irritably, "Are you sick? Don't you know what time it is in the city? What job can't you handle that you have to bring to my house?"

“Your house has been burgled, you ungrateful, stupid woman—” Quinn couldn’t hold back any longer. He suspected that if he didn’t say anything, Amamiya Nene wouldn’t even realize that the notebook had been stolen, and would just assume that it was left at the academy.

"When I came over, there was a guy lurking around your door."

Quinn briefly recounted what had just happened.

"He got away, we didn't catch him, that's all. Everything he stole should be here, I'm not sure if there's anything else."

After hearing this, Amamiya Nene didn't show any signs of lingering fear, but she still silently picked up the notes on the ground.

After taking stock of the stolen items, she frowned slightly.

"This is my manuscript. But it contains very little about arcane arts; it's mostly work records, things from before you came. There are administrative documents from the academy for the first two years, but nothing confidential—just schedules and stuff."

“I’m wondering if that was a thief or not, a Sequence 7 assassin. You might be dead.” Quinn shrugged. “Although I shouldn’t be saying this, for a royal palace, the security here is a bit too lax.”

"A Sequence 7 can't kill me."

Amamiya Nene said calmly, "I hate men, so I've dismissed all the guards."

"Alright, alright, let's just say he's a thief. Why would he steal your notes? He might as well steal your stockings."

"—Quinn."

Amamiya Nene's voice was unusually cold, "Can't you respect me?"

".Feel sorry."

Quinn raised her hands in surrender. Such banter was a common occurrence in the office, but today it was clear that she was in a bad mood after returning from the Abyss.

"What happened to you?" Quinn paused, looking at the conspicuous bruise on her pale thigh. "You were limping just now too."

"I'm on my period, what's it to you?!" This was shouted out.

Amamiya Nene had never shown such a disheveled appearance before. The little witch was always elegant and poised, even when she was sitting on her desk with her legs crossed, she looked like a triumphant queen. But now she looked somewhat downcast, a side of her that Quinn had never seen before.

Both of them were stunned, as if even the cicadas outside the window were frightened and dared not chirp loudly.

Amamiya Nene lowered her head, her voice softening considerably: "I'm not in a good mood today."

Quinn shrugged, saying nothing, thinking to himself that the man who marries this superwoman will be lucky.

"Thank you," she said, not looking at Quinn, her gaze elsewhere. "I'll have them increase security. If there's nothing else, you can go back. Take care of the students for the next couple of days. I'll return to the academy on Thursday, so it won't interfere with your day off."

"Of course something's wrong."

Quinn said irritably, "I've found something else about the Abyss."

He paused, and soon Amamiya Nene also noticed footsteps coming from outside the door.

Clearly, they were attracted by the commotion just now.

Quinn looked innocently at Amamiya Nene, raising her chin to indicate that she should explain herself. Unexpectedly, Amamiya Nene suddenly stood up and grabbed him in a panic.

Quinn was completely bewildered by her grabbing him, and amidst the pulling and tugging, he asked, "Hey? What the hell are you?"

"Don't make a sound!" Amamiya Nene glared at him. "This is my nanny! If she sees my mom, she'll know—"

"Damn it, so what if your mom knows? We're completely innocent."

"You! Be quiet."

The blanket meant to keep Quinn's legs warm was tucked over his head, forcibly pressing him to the ground to cover him up. But the guy was tall, and the blanket wasn't long enough, so no matter how much he covered him, a little bit would still show.
The footsteps were hurried, and there was more than one person. After two short knocks, the door was opened from the outside. A somewhat androgynous female voice asked anxiously, "Miss, are you alright?"

Amamiya Nene was sitting alone in the study, her lower body covered with a blanket, sitting on the floor in an odd posture, her smile very stiff.

"It's nothing, what could possibly be wrong? You all get out of here."

(End of this chapter)