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White Cloak, Black Coat

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A cloudy day.

On that morning, there were lots of clouds in the sky, but everyone was sure it wouldn't have rained at all.

The detective was looking at some documents to kill some time. He was waiting for something else.

The newspaper.

But would he actually receive the newspaper, since he sent his assistant to get it and he knew him way too well?

He sighed. The only thing he could do was praying for his safety. And the safety of the newspaper, of course.

He continued looking at the documents: those were all records of solved cases and arrested criminals. Because he, Diego Velazquez, had never failed to catch a criminal. What was his secret? He actually didn't have one, as he always told other people, probably he never gave up on chasing criminals or something like that.

But the truth is that he actually had one. His secret was that he could read the criminal's mind and predict his actions. It wasn't anything supernatural, but it really helped him with socializing and talking to people, since he had poor social skills.

Finally, the door opened and a tall man with messy purple hair and glasses came in.

"Good morning, bos--" the man couldn't even finish his sentence that he tripped on his own feet and fell on the ground. "O-Owowowowowow!!"

"Good morning, Rembrandt" Velazquez answered, without moving a single finger. "Can you stand on your own or do I have to help you?"

"It's ok, it's ok, I can do it!"

"Hahaha, I always trip while walking inside the office…"

"It's different. You always trip."

"Don't be so mean, boss~"

"Just saying the truth. So? Did you get it?"

The detective started scanning his assistant to see if he got the newspaper.

There was everything on his arms: accessories, a magazine, more accessories, a pack, probably containing breakfast, even more accessories…

And finally, the newspaper.


He stood up from his big armchair, took the newspaper and went back behind his desk.

"Hey, you didn't even see the new accessories I just bought today!"

"Because I'm not interested in them."

"Secondly, because I'm still wondering how you can still have enough money to live since you don't come from a rich family and you always spend it on those accessories."

"Well… You ain't wrong, boss."

Velazquez couldn't do anything other than sigh. What a tragedy.

"So, before I open the newspaper, have you heard anything in town?"

Rembrandt took a seat and put his things on his desk.

"Let's see… Many useless things… Oh yeah, I know! Something really weird!"

"Someone said that there might be a phantom thief in town!"

"A phantom thief? Didn't they mistake a low-budget thief for a phantom thief?"

"Honestly, I don't know… But everyone said that they heard the rumours of this phantom thief."

"Rumors, yeah, rumours… Of course they were rumours."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about it. You hate rumours."

"Facts are more important. Rumours are useless. And you can only receive facts from the newspaper."

The detective opened the newspaper and looked at all the articles. The main topic was the upcoming political elections- so many pages were dedicated only to them.

Useless. Velazquez couldn't give a damn about politics. As long as he could continue to work, he didn't care which politician had the power.

He kept reading the news, until an article caught his interest.

"I see."

"Did you find something, boss?" Rembrandt said while rushing to the detective's desk.

"The rumours are true. There is a phantom thief in town."

He showed him a picture of a tall male figure with a hat, a mask on his eyes and a long cloak. Everything was in white.

The article said that the phantom thief had just started causing troubles in their town and he stole some jewellery from rich people, but that was just the beginning of his actions.

"Just the beginning? What does he want to steal, a real jewel or something?"

"He will exactly do that."

"For real? How are you so sure of it?"

"I heard that there will be a party at the villa of a really rich man. He organized it because he has just bought this precious jewel at an auction."

"Kinda cliché, but yeah, I think we could find him there. So, are we going?"


"Wait, what!? But how can we--"


"I don't know this man, therefore we can't be invited."

He was right. Plus, telling the organizer that a phantom thief would have visited him could give him lots of different reactions, from a big laugh to a general panic.

"Is that so… Then what can we do? Should we call Watteau?"

"That was the idea. I don't know if he will introduce himself to the party for his reasons, but we can ask him. I won't call him, though."


"Someone is going to open the door."

"Wait, really? Who could it be--"


The door opened quickly, and a young man in a fine suit came in. He was being loud, just as usual.

"G-Good morning, Watteau!"

"Hahaha! Did you like my entrance? Was it cool? Eh? Eh? Was it?"

"It's the usual entrance you do every time you come into my office, so no, I didn't like it. Surprise me next time, Watteau."

"It was different?? It's just that nothing surprises you anymore, Velazquez!"


"Ugh… I can't stand you!"

The young man, Watteau, got closer to the detective's desk and put his hands on it.

"So..." Rembrandt felt the tension in the room, so he tried to change the topic. "How's your career going?"

"Oh, I'll become a star soon! I'm improving my acting skills and I'm pretty sure I'll get into a real theatre someday!"

"Yeah, someday, because nobody wants you."

"Can you stop being an asshole, Velazquez!?"

"I'm always like this."

"And that's horrible!"

"By the way, I have something to ask you. Are you aware that there will be an exhibition party soon?"

"Yeah, in three days. I will go there, why?"

"Oh, so you're going there! Did you get invited?"

"The son of the organizer is a friend of mine, he invited me!"

"Who's his son?"

"Renoir. You met him sometimes!"

"Let me think about it… Wait, that tall man with really long, blonde hair that flirts with basically every woman and drinks wine and champagne like there's no tomorrow?"

"That's really specific… But yeah, that one!"

"What exactly are your friends, Watteau!?"

"They're great, Rembrandt! You should meet them! Velazquez knows them so well, right?"

"Only because I observe them. Never talked to any of them."

"Hah! Loser. But why are you interested in that exhibition?"

"Something might happen that night and I want to be present."

"Are you talking about the phantom thief, perhaps?"


"Kinda cliché, but yeah, it could happen. If he doesn't know you're on the scene, everything can happen."

"Nobody should recognize me at that party, am I right?"

"I think Renoir and I will be the only ones that will recognize you. I won't announce your arrival, so you can come last-minute and make a grand entrance!"

"I'm not interested. I don't want to be noticed at all."

"When's the event?"

"In three days, at 8 p.m. I'll call you this afternoon to tell you if Renoir can get you an invitation!"


"Thank you very much, Watteau!"

"You're welcome! I'll see you there, guys!"


The day of the party came. The duo went to the location Watteau told them and waited far from the main door. They couldn't enter without their invitations, so they had to wait for him.

"Here you are!" Watteau said, rushing towards their direction. He was with the organizer's son, Renoir.

“Now you’re officially invited to the party!”

“Yay, finally! Also good evening, mr…”

“Oh, you can call me Renoir. I’m a simple guy~”

“Yeah, really simple…”

“Nice to see you again, Velazquez!”

“Yeah, whatever. We can enter, right?”

“Yes, of course. Enjoy yourself~”

“Thank you! I hope I don’t fall this time--”

And in that exact moment Rembrandt fell on the ground.


“I live in a society.”


The party was going well. Nobody suspected a thing and everyone was having fun. Actually, it wasn’t really fun. Rich people have fun just by standing.

“This is getting boring…” Rembrandt said while eating the dessert.

“... I feel something.”

“Oh, it was time for you to say that! So?”

“... We are late.”

Rembrandt was shocked. He never understood how Velazquez’s mind worked, so he just went along with his plans. Maybe he was stupid, after all.

“What do you mean, nothing happened. Right?”

“That jewel… Is fake.”

The detective said this quote louder than usual, so everybody in the room quickly turned to him.

“Could you repeat that, mister?” the organizer asked.

“Oh no, Velazquez fucked up. Mon dieu.”

“Don’t die, Watteau.”

“I said, the jewel is fake. Am I right?”

“Indeed you are, mister!”

A figure fell from the chandelier and landed on the floor, rushing to the biggest window in the room. He wore a white cloak, a white hat and a white mask. It was…

“The phantom thief!!” the organizer exclaimed.

“Quick, boss! We have to catch him!”

“Say no more.”

Velazquez started chasing him . He went outside and saw the phantom thief climbing the building to the roof.

“Get back!”

“Oh? Is someone following me?”

“... Fufu, now this is fun. Catch me if you can, mystery boy!”

Both of them climbed to the roof and arrived at the highest point of it.

“Uff… You aren’t that slow, it seems like your cape is not a big deal for you.”

“Wow, you don’t know me at all and yet you make fun of me? Aren’t you an interesting boy, huh!”

“So you’re the detective everyone is talking about, right? I heard so much from certain acquaintances of mine.”

“I also heard you’re pretty young. Young and talented~”

“Stop making fun of me.”

“But you don’t seem offended by my words. Are you repressing your anger to keep your coolness?”

“No, it’s that I don’t get angry at all and… Wait, why are we even talking about me?”

“Haha, you didn’t even notice! You’re so funny! You might have caught my interest, after all~”

The phantom thief got closer to the detective. Now he could see his green hair and turquoise eyes better.

“So I’ll have to see you more, right? I can’t wait, haha.”

“Not if I catch you right n--”

The thief got even closer to him, pressing his lips on the other’s cheek.

“But will you, mystery boy? Who knows.”

“Catch you later!”


But the phantom thief fell from the roof and disappeared, without leaving any trace.

“Dammit... Dammit dammit dammit dammit da--”


Rembrandt called for Velazquez from the balcony.

“Is everything ok? Did you catch him?”

“... No.”


“Rembrandt, listen up. I had enough.”

“Oh no, boss lost his temper!”

“I swear, I SWEAR.”

“That phantom thief will meet his end and I’ll help him get closer to it. I swear I’m gonna do it.”