RWBY - Child Of Light

Chapter 2: Dance With The Spider

"Hey, old man," I mumble, trying to act with familiarity, "are we sure everything we need will be there? We won't get another shot."

"Still nervous, huh? Can't say I blame ya, but you did the math. Even if they managed to open that lot, where would they take it? No one wants that kind of heat."

And just like that, I'm still in the dark about what we're sticking our necks out for.

A quick glance on the files suggested the Schnee family had initially put three vaults on the market, each of them holding either personal artifacts or some one-of-a-kind wonder forged by their progress-and-military division.

But only after the contents of one of them briefly leaked did the Malachite family get interested, even taking out a loan from some underground financier to secure the bidding.

Apparently, whoever I replaced caught a glimpse of the items too and sought out these "helpful" gentlemen to liberate them, promising to take only what he needed before disappearing, leaving the rest to them. What's more bizarre is how they don't seem fazed by my attitude—or my appearance. My reflection in the car window shows the same face I had before reincarnating, which suggests they conveniently "forgot" what the old me looked like. Useful, sure, but troubling too. Who am I supposed to be? Is there a family out there looking for me—for him?

Would I even care if they were? Probably not. But it'd be wise to avoid any unwanted reunions.

"We move in five. Put this on." The rough voice snaps me back to reality, and a strange mask is shoved into my hands.

I turn it over, suddenly interested. "A Grimm mask?"

"Everyone's on edge about those damned creatures roaming wild these days. We're not sticking around long enough for anyone to get suspicious, but a little insurance never hurts."

A smirk tugs at my lips. "Better safe than sorry, huh?"

❖

The Malachite manor looms in the distance, both beautiful and unnerving. From what I remember, their family has clung to relevance since Vale's early days, their power rising and waning through backdoor deals and an impressive criminal portfolio imported directly from Mistral. Despite the layers of dirt on their reputation, the mansion stands unscathed—pristine, even. I'd expected an estate with this kind of history to look as battered as its occupants' lives, but the place is a fortress.

We approach quietly, slipping to the basement's outdoor entrance, where one of the gorillas' forces open the rusted lock. The door creaks, and we move in, one by one. The interior yawns open, shadows dancing over the cold, humid stone walls of the underground. Most of the family's security detail is notably absent; it seems the Malachites are all attending some grand celebration in the city, commemorating the anniversary of Vale's founding as one of the families involved on the great war, even if just as weapon dealers. It's almost ironic how they didn't even consider the idea of being robbed themselves. It made sense, the shipment had arrived barely three hours ago, with only a few dozen people in the entire continent knowing of its existence, and yet here we are.

My steps echo in the dim light as we navigate the labyrinthine hallways back to the surface. The two gangsters lead the way, the taller one holding up a flashlight, which is killed the moment we catch the faintest sight of movement. I fall in line behind them, adjusting my own mask, feeling its rough edges pressing into my skin. The sensation brings a strange thrill, this is the most fun I've had in a long time.

It doesn't take long for us to encounter our first guard.

Most of the staff here have been with the Malachites for over a decade; in all that time, no one has dared break into their household. Who would? Robbing them is like stealing from both nobles and criminals—you'd have the entire city on your back for life. Overconfident and underprepared, the guard stands there until one of my partners drops a well-aimed club to his head, then falls asleep. Better to knock them out than leave bodies, I suppose.