"Boss, give me one... You want one too, Venom? Okay, give me two chocolate ice creams, double scoop."
Vic stood in front of a flashy ice cream cart in downtown San Francisco, licking a chocolate double-scoop ice cream that was about to melt in his hand.
His other hand hung loosely, allowing Venom's pitch-black tentacle to snatch the other ice cream cone.
His eyes, which always danced with a glint of madness, were darting around, locking precisely onto the ultra-luxurious office building across the street.
"Looks like this is the place," Vic mumbled indistinctly, the ice cream making his voice sticky and sweet.
"Venom, do you smell it? Money, crime, and... a hint of ancient stone. I wonder how many talismans these guys actually have."
Ever since hacking into the file marked "Section 13 - Top Secret Clearance" on his laptop back at Nevermore Academy and catching glimpses of phrases about "talismans" and their magical powers, Vic's heart, eternally seeking thrills and fun, had been completely hooked.
As soon as school was out, he dragged Venom and flew straight to this city famous for its fog and steep hills.
Section 13's defenses were indeed tight; the entrance and exit were actually hidden in an old-fashioned phone booth requiring a code. The design was straight out of some nostalgic spy movie.
It was cliché but surprisingly effective. At least Vic didn't know how to sneak in without attracting attention. Taking the stairs wasn't exactly an option.
Breaking in by force wasn't impossible, but Vic prided himself on being an "Elegant Phantom Thief"—although Wednesday and Enid usually rolled their eyes at this title. Smashing the place up was too crude and prone to startling the prey.
Coincidentally, further investigation showed that an international criminal organization called the "Dark Hand" was also frantically searching for these talismans.
The enemy of an enemy isn't necessarily a friend, but the enemy's goal could absolutely become a source of Vic's amusement.
So, Vic decided to "try his luck" at the Dark Hand's headquarters—and see if he could pick up some goodies for zero dollars while he was at it.
Also known as robbing the robbers.
Finishing the ice cream in a few bites, Vic ducked into an alley. When he emerged, he had changed into a slightly loose uniform bearing the logo of a cleaning company, pushing a cart filled with cleaning supplies, and swaggered into the building.
It was so easy he almost wanted to whistle.
"America's secret organization, Section 13, racks its brains to build underground in secret, while these international criminals just plop their headquarters right in downtown San Francisco," Vic complained to Venom in his mind as he lowered his head and pretended to wipe the front desk.
"The damn SFPD is right next door! Are bad guys this arrogant nowadays? Can we have some professional ethics?"
Venom poked a small blob out from his shoulder, forming a mini-mouth, and hissed with laughter:
"It's America, you know. Freedom is the name of the game. Maybe they pay a lot of taxes? These days, money makes you the daddy."
Meanwhile, on the top floor of the building, in a spacious office decorated with a mix of Eastern mysticism and modern nouveau riche aesthetics.
On the wall, a grotesque dragon sculpture radiating an ominous aura—Shendu—was "staring" at the empty room with its stone pupils.
Through his connection with the Shadowkhan, he was sensing the actions of his human subordinates scattered outside.
However, Shendu's heart was filled with indescribable frustration and melancholy.
He was about to lose hope in these stupid, incompetent underlings. After spending so much time and effort, with the assistance of the Shadowkhan, they had only managed to bring back... two talismans.
At this rate, when would he ever gain his freedom?
Looking at the side representing "Righteousness"... Shendu wanted to curse in the street.
Historically, first Lu Dongbin beat him back to hell with a sword, making him sit in prison for hundreds of years.
After racking his brains and scheming with his siblings to escape hell, before he could enjoy the good life for a few years, he was sealed by the wizard Lo Pei, his core powers scattered all over the world.
This time was the worst; he had been a statue for a whole millennium.
Finally surviving until modern times and tricking a group of international criminals into serving him with the promise of the Golden Rooster King's treasure.
And the result? His well-equipped, ruthless international criminal subordinates were repeatedly thwarted by an archaeologist who dragged a kid and an old man around!
That guy named Jackie Chan—his fighting skills were more effective than magic!
"Yin-Yang Balance?!" Shendu roared silently. "You call THIS balance?! That little bitch Righteousness is practically shitting on Darkness's head! This script is wrong!"
The heavy solid wood door of the headquarters office was pushed open silently a crack. Vic pushed the cleaning cart in, looking every bit the submissive cleaner, and slipped inside.
He quickly scanned the room—excellent, empty.
Vic's gaze was immediately drawn to the oppressive dragon sculpture on the wall.
Whoa, Vic whistled silently in his heart. This aesthetic... wild enough. Wednesday would definitely like it.
His eyes locked precisely onto two inconspicuous stones embedded in the dragon sculpture that emitted faint energy fluctuations—the Sheep Talisman and the Monkey Talisman.
Looking closer at the office, Vic's eyes brightened even more.
On the rosewood desk sat a pure gold Lucky Cat with dollar bills in its mouth. In the corner stood what looked like an antique blue-and-white porcelain vase. On the bookshelf, bundles of cash tied with ribbons were piled casually...
"Yo, this Dark Hand gang has terrible taste, but their 'inventory' is quite rich." Vic licked his lips, like a mouse falling into a rice jar.
The Shendu sculpture on the wall remained immersed in his own melancholy and resentment. He didn't even bother to lift an eyelid at this "chore boy" pushing a cleaning cart.
In his long, sealed memory, such lowly servants responsible for sweeping and cleaning used to be as common as ox hair around him.
The only difference was that modern servants actually had the audacity to demand "salary" and "hourly pay."
Morals are decaying, hearts are not what they used to be. Shendu let out an ancient sigh deep in his consciousness, feeling this era was truly degenerate.
Vic had no time to care about the inner drama of a stone.
He pushed his cart professionally and began his "work."
His movements were brisk and skilled: while wiping the desk with a rag, he casually swept the gold Lucky Cat and the dollar bills into the large trash bag on the lower shelf of the cart.
While cleaning the corner, he "accidentally" knocked over the blue-and-white porcelain vase, then "helplessly" took it into "temporary custody."
While organizing the bookshelf, those obstructive "paper wastes" (cash) naturally needed "unified recycling and disposal."
In Shendu's view, this cleaner was quite diligent and responsible. Wherever he went, the office environment indeed became much tidier and brighter.
He was even somewhat satisfied, feeling that although modern servants cost money, their work efficiency seemed higher than in ancient times.
Vic efficiently completed the "cleaning" work and finally pushed the cart to the Shendu sculpture in the corner.
He reached out and touched the cold, rough stone surface, quickly calculating in his mind:
This thing... material is average, carving is rough, and it's heavy as hell to move. Probably won't fetch a good price on the second-hand market.
Forget it, a Phantom Thief has standards. Can't bring just any junk home.
Although he didn't plan to steal the sculpture, the professional ethics of a Phantom Thief could not be discarded.
Vic took out professional-grade cleaning wipes from his pocket and began to carefully wipe away the dust and... possible fingerprints on the sculpture's surface.
He wiped extremely seriously, cleaning even the gaps between dragon scales and the grooves where the talismans were originally embedded with a small brush until they shone.
Hmm, not bad, that's more like it. Shendu "watched" his shiny body through his senses, feeling even more satisfied internally.
When I resurrect and regain power, I will appoint this careful kid to be specifically responsible for washing my dragon body! Three times a day!
However, this satisfaction lasted less than three seconds.
Wait... something didn't seem right?
Clean? Shiny? Talisman embedding holes... also cleaned?
Shendu's stone pupils focused sharply, staring dead at the spots where the Sheep Talisman and Monkey Talisman had just been embedded—Empty!
Those two ancient talismans carrying parts of his power were gone!
His heart almost stopped, if he still had a heart right now.
Shendu jerked his gaze toward the "cleaner" who was preparing to push his cart away.
He saw Vic with his back to him, leisurely playing with the two talismans he had just acquired. The Sheep Talisman flipped over his fingertips, the Monkey Talisman was tossed up and caught. His face was brimming with the satisfaction and comfort of pulling off a big job.
WHAT THE FUCK!!!!
An earth-shattering roar exploded deep in Shendu's consciousness.
This was no damn diligent cleaner!
This was a thief! A master thief with superb skills, excellent psychological quality, who fucking cleaned up the crime scene for you while he was at it!
That wasn't cleaning just now! That was literally scraping the ground three feet deep, plucking every feather from the goose, and wiping away footprints and fingerprints with a rag—a professional fencing process!