chapter 18 Golden Threads, Electric Shocks, and Fashionable Chaos

Returning to the inn, I picked up Lily and Alicia. The rest of the crew followed: the queen, Lucy, Urara, and Jane. Urara and Jane had their hair dyed black, a tactic to keep their red hair from standing out during the theft investigation. Jane looked like a noir heroine, and Urara… well, I nearly reached out to ruffle her hair but remembered basic human etiquette.

Almost.

The queen, upon seeing Urara’s new look, frowned dramatically. “Next time, I want my hair dyed black too,” she declared. Her lips curved into that mischievous smirk that spelled trouble. I could see the gears in her royal brain already turning, plotting some kind of ‘hair solidarity plan’ that would somehow involve me.

Lucy, ever the stoic one, merely raised an eyebrow. “So… black hair now equals stealth?”

“Exactly,” I said, patting Urara’s head lightly. “And possibly maximum cuteness.”

Jane shot me a glare that could cut steel. “Don’t touch my hair again,” she warned.

“Noted,” I said, stepping back, raising my hands in surrender.

Meanwhile, Lily was busy jotting notes about Hardock Yard, the thief, and the threads. She occasionally muttered things like “Security flaws in urban layouts… opportunity cost…” I tuned most of it out, only catching words like golden thread and automatic tailor machine. Important stuff.

We all headed back to the inn for a celebratory meal—by that I mean I inhaled everything in sight while everyone else ate like normal humans. Queen even helped herself to some of the bread, glaring at me when I tried to take the last pastry.

“Oh no, Erik,” she said, smirking. “You will not eat the royal pastry before everyone else.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Royal pastry? Since when? Last week it was your tea, now it’s a pastry?”

“You will learn respect for pastries,” she said, stabbing it with her fork. I sighed, defeated but secretly impressed by her commitment.

After dinner, we gathered around the tailor automatic machine. Jane’s eyes sparkled like a child on her birthday. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, touching the sleek metal and polished levers. “I can make dresses faster than ever, and… maybe even teach Urara some techniques.”

Urara looked slightly horrified. “Do I want to learn?”

“No,” Jane said sweetly. “But yes, you will learn soon.”

I stood back, surveying the scene: black-haired Urara, tanned and feisty; Jane, practically vibrating with excitement over a sewing machine; Alicia quietly observing; Lily scribbling notes furiously; the queen sipping tea like she was royalty or something; and Lucy polishing her sword in the corner, flames dancing in her reflection.

And me. Sitting with an AK-47 hidden in my pocket, snacks on my lap, grinning like a madman.

This was my life. Three days of travel, a half-hour chase, one fractured thumb, and now a tailor machine. All in a day’s work.

Somehow, even amidst the chaos, the laughter, and the occasional electric zap, it all felt… right. Perfectly ridiculous, completely insane, and yet exactly what I’d signed up for when I became a detective.

I leaned back, chewing on a leftover pastry, and muttered to nobody in particular:

“Come on, world. Give me a real challenge next time. Maybe a monster… or a cursed cat. But definitely more snacks.”

Urara rolled her eyes. Jane peeked over her shoulder, already sketching designs for dresses she could make with golden threads. Lily muttered about efficiency. The queen looked mildly pleased, plotting her next hair-dye scheme. Lucy… well, Lucy just twirled her flaming sword for fun.

I smiled. My chaotic, ridiculous, golden-thread-filled adventure was only just beginning.

We headed back toward the place the man had mentioned—the local shop where he claimed he had seen the golden towel. Lucy and Lily went in first, polite and royal as always. The shopkeeper’s eyes widened when he saw the queen; he practically knelt, muttering prayers of gratitude for surviving the visit.

I leaned toward Jane. “Plan?”

She whispered, “I want to buy the towel myself.”

The shopkeeper’s head turned sharply. The masked man? Well, he wasn’t present—probably hiding under his hat somewhere, sweating bullets.

The queen, graceful as ever, handed him a single gold coin. He nodded with respect and said he’d arrange the towel for tomorrow. I noticed she didn’t give me a coin. Typical.

After securing this arrangement, we returned to the inn. Hunger had taken over. Dinner was not going to happen by mere coincidence. I grabbed my cooking tools, utensils, and a generous helping of my secret spices.

“What are you doing?” the queen asked, arms crossed, suspicion in every line of her posture.

“Feeding my guests,” I said innocently. “Especially royalty, ladies, and one tailor with black hair.”

They all gathered around the table, murmuring their approval as I grilled kababs, flipped vegetables, and even attempted some experimental spiced meat rolls. The aroma was absurdly potent, filling the inn’s room like a food fog.

Everyone attacked the food with alarming enthusiasm. The queen took a kabab and raised an eyebrow. “Not bad,” she said, biting into it delicately, as if her life depended on it.

Urara snatched two kababs at once. “You… you are a master of cooking AND guns,” she said between bites.

Jane laughed, almost choking on a slice of roasted pepper. “I didn’t know I needed a detective-cook in my life, but here we are!”

Lily and Alicia, slightly less messy, tried to maintain decorum but ended up having crumbs on their laps and tiny splatters of sauce on their faces. Lucy merely polished her sword with one hand while shoving a kabab into her mouth with the other.

I leaned back, satisfied. Everyone was fed, happy, and mildly terrified of my multi-talented existence.

“Tomorrow,” I muttered to myself, “we get the towel and maybe start a fashion empire.”

Queen raised an eyebrow. “A fashion empire? Hm… intriguing.”

I sighed. “With golden threads, of course. Jane can run it, you can supervise, Lucy can provide… fiery inspiration?”

“Sure,” she said, sipping her tea, her expression hinting she was plotting something. “And I’ll make sure Urara doesn’t dye her hair green next time.”

Urara gave her a look that screamed challenge accepted, while Jane rolled her eyes. I grinned. Perfect. Everything was chaotic, but functional.

And me? I was ready. Snacks replenished and a plan forming in my mind. Tomorrow, that street shop would see the return of the golden towel—and perhaps the beginning of a small kabab-based detective empire.

The next morning, that street was humming with life. Vendors shouting, spices flying through the air, and somewhere in the distance, a man yelling at a chicken about taxes—I swear I didn’t make that up.

We waited in the shadows, strategically hiding behind crates and carts. I had my pistol ready, snacks in pocket, and a mild sense of impending chaos brewing in the air. Lily and Alicia flanked me, whispering tactical notes and probably debating the merits of urban camouflage versus casual invisibility.

The shopkeeper, a small man with a bowler hat slightly too big for his head, came out and scratched his head. “Uh… we need… two more gold coins,” he muttered.

The queen, perched like a royal hawk on her cart, didn’t blink. “Fine,” she said, tossing coins casually in the air. “But the cloth comes first. No games.”

Suddenly, chaos exploded. Another man—tall, masked, and obviously villainous—made a grab for the queen.

“Oi!” I yelled, “Not today, buddy!”

Lucy dashed forward like a human whirlwind, her sword slicing through the air. Meanwhile, two or three more goons tried to block the shop doors from the inside. The ensuing melee sounded like pots, swords, and poorly timed screams colliding in perfect chaos.

I casually adjusted my sunglasses, pulled out my AK-47, and moved to the back of the shop. The windows were conveniently fragile, as if the universe itself wanted me to be flashy. I fired a few rounds, shattering glass into glittering shards. Everyone’s jaws literally dropped. Queen included, who, if possible, glared at me with a mix of shock and mild admiration.

The villains—three men in total—scrambled like roaches in a spotlight. I smirked. One grenade. Pulled from the bonus stash the system had generously granted me last week. I tossed it.

BOOM!

Windows shook. Shop awning twirled. A crate of onions went airborne. And the three goons were spectacularly immobilized. Smoke, fire, and the faint scent of charred leather filled the air.

The queen, brushing ash from her royal robes, gave me a look that was part disapproval, part okay, I’m impressed.

Turns out, these villains had stolen the towel from Jane. Poor girl! They had initially tried to sell it, but without the proper seal mark, the black market wasn’t having any of it.

“They tried to sell it back here,” Jane explained later, voice trembling between indignation and laughter. “But prices were bad, so they decided—genius idea—to tear it apart and sell the threads individually!”

I raised an eyebrow. “They… ripped a priceless towel apart? That’s criminal even by rogue standards.”

“Yes,” Jane said, glaring at me, “they thought they could profit from a few golden threads. No tailor machine in their arsenal could process them. Pathetic, really.”

Urara and her sister, still sporting black-dyed hair, nodded in approval. “We could’ve done better with that cloth,” Urara said, crossing her arms, looking like she was judging criminals for all eternity.

Meanwhile, I looked at the villains, now groaning on the ground. Their plan, apparently, was simple: find a random buyer for golden threads in a market too sophisticated for their nonsense. But they underestimated one thing—us.

Me. With a gun, grenades, and the audacity of a man who somehow keeps surviving.
Lucy. Swords, fire, grace, and murder in a dance.
The queen. Walking intimidation and royal authority.
Urara and Jane. Tactical hair-dye black ops, armed with attitude and sharp eyes.
And a minor contingent of civilians who probably thought the world had just ended.

When the villains saw the queen standing right beside me, eyes narrowing, armor gleaming, and me casually chewing a snack, their plans collapsed like a poorly constructed tent.

They tried to run again. Bad idea.

The first man tripped on a stray kabab stick (leftover from my heroic snack break yesterday), the second went headfirst into a cart of fake hats, and the third… well, let’s just say grenades were involved again.

By noon, all three were sitting uncomfortably in prison, muttering to themselves about how they’d underestimated a “detective with random powers and really good snacks.”

I dusted my hands off and smiled. “Another case closed. Jane, your towel is safe. Bonus: you now have a fully automatic tailor machine delivered to your home. Profit margins, here we come.”

Jane’s eyes sparkled like she’d just discovered a new dimension. “Finally! I can make actual clothing efficiently! And… maybe some small explosive accessories?” She winked at me, and I slowly backed away.

The queen, still pristine despite the chaos, clapped lightly. “Well done. But next time, please don’t turn the marketplace into a war zone.”

“Noted,” I said, totally unconvincingly, while casually sliding another snack into my mouth.

Lucy leaned on her sword, smirking. “You know, most heroes use clever tricks, swordsmanship, or diplomacy. You just… shoot things and throw grenades.”

“Efficiency, my dear Lucy,” I replied. “Efficiency and snacks. And apparently, royal approval now.”

Urara chuckled. “I think the royal guards are traumatized for life.”

“I give them credit,” I said. “They fought bravely… before realizing they were completely outclassed.”

We spent the rest of the day making sure the towel was intact, threads intact, and Jane’s automatic tailor machine installed. Jane immediately began brainstorming designs, jotting notes faster than a caffeinated scribe.

By evening, Hardock Yard had returned to its usual chaos. Vendors resumed yelling, spices mingled with fried goods, and I found myself leaning against a crate, sipping water, and watching the sunset.

Jane nudged me. “You know… we make a great team.”

I nodded. “AK-47, grenades, cooking, detective skills, royal diplomacy… yeah, probably the best.”

Lily, adjusting her glasses, muttered, “And don’t forget tactical observation and rapid map analysis.”

“Right,” I said, waving her off. “Those too.”

The queen, passing by with Lucy, gave me a sideways glance. “Next time, try to keep explosions minimal around me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

Urara and Jane, still plotting their next hair-dye mission, laughed. Even the shopkeeper peeked out from behind his counter, grateful his establishment wasn’t in ashes this time.

And me? I leaned back, knowing that tomorrow, Hardock Yard would see nothing but peace… probably. But somehow, I doubted it. After all, when you have a detective-cook-gunman on your team, chaos follows like a shadow.

With a grin, I whispered into the evening air: “Good job, team. We got the towel. The threads. And even saved the queen. Now… who wants kababs?”

Unsurprisingly, everyone—including the queen—raised a hand.

I laughed. Life in Hardock Yard was absurd, ridiculous, and entirely mine. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the Hardock Yard chaos officially ended, Lucy personally delivered the three defeated villains to the city prison. I swear, watching her march them in was like witnessing a human tornado with a side of judicial flair. I half-expected a marching band to appear behind her, but no such luck—just the usual horrified stares from guards who clearly were not paid enough for this.

Once that was done, we all piled into carts and made our way to Alicia’s house. And yes, a big party erupted—because what better way to celebrate defeating masked villains, recovering golden thread, and surviving grenades than with food, laughter, and music? I had a hand in cooking again, naturally. Kababs, spicy soups, snacks that could probably double as weapons… you get the picture.

In the midst of all this, I called Jane. She was ecstatic. After the whole towel debacle, her life had been a mess. Work lost, commissions cancelled, and she had even considered selling her house just to get by. Now, with the tailor machine delivered and the rescued threads, she could finally rebuild.

“You… you really did this?” she said, eyes sparkling. “My life… it’s back!”

I shrugged modestly. “All in a day’s work. And snacks.”

She hugged me tight. Then Urara, caught up in the celebration and probably some strange cocktail of excitement and adrenaline, leaned in and kissed me. I froze. One. Two. Heart rate: critical.

Before I could even process, Jane—clearly not taking “sharing the joy” too literally—kissed me too. My brain did a triple backflip.

“Oi, oi! What’s happening?!” I shouted, flailing.

That’s when the queen, seemingly remembering that she was supposed to be first in the hero-kissing queue, marched up, puffed her chest, and declared, “I was first!” before pressing a royal kiss onto my bewildered face.

Not to be outdone, Lily and Lucy, in perfect synchronized mischief, shoved the queen aside (politely, of course) and delivered their own quick pecks. My head spun.

“Now hang on—” I began, but Alicia suddenly shouted from across the room, “Wait! Don’t forget me!”

Before I knew it, I had been kissed by half the female population of our party, leaving me dazed, a little dizzy, and questioning my life choices.

By the next morning, reality set in. Jane officially moved in with us. Her tailor machine now occupied a prime spot in my house. I even helped her organize her workstation—electronic devices, coffee maker, and all. She immediately started taking orders and experimenting with designs, humming happily while I surveyed my living room now doubling as a tailor’s dreamland.

Three days passed. The routine was surprisingly peaceful. Jane mastered the tailor machine. Urara experimented with hair-dye combinations. Queen occasionally glared at anyone standing too close to me. Everyone got along—or at least, tolerated each other’s chaotic energy.

And then came Duke and Kiara.

They arrived unannounced, in full “we need coffee and a chair” mode. Kiara immediately dashed off to play with Lily and Urara while Duke settled in, sipping coffee and scanning the room with an expression somewhere between annoyance and desperate calculation. Jane, of course, instantly fell in love with the coffee machine and gadgets, tinkering like a kid in a candy store.

Duke sighed, rubbing his temples. “I need help,” he muttered. “It’s serious. My cousin Harlock… four boys… they’ve lost their precious diamond necklace. Someone from the family… must have stolen it.”

I sat upright. FINALLY, a proper detective case! None of this towel business, grenades, or random kisses—this was diamonds. Real stakes. Real danger. And, crucially, no accidental romantic entanglements (hopefully).

I nodded. “Alright. Give me details. Names. Locations. Alibis. Fingerprints. Anything unusual?”

The room’s atmosphere shifted. The queen, Lucy, Lily, and Kiara all went… grim. Their faces were serious, almost somber, which immediately set off my alarm bells.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you all? You look like I just told you the world ended.”

Kiara frowned. “These… four boys… they weren’t just random family members.”

“Wait,” I said, leaning forward. “Explain.”

They exchanged uneasy glances. Queen finally spoke. “Those four boys… were our engagement partners.”

My brain stalled. One, two, three, four… engagement partners?

“What?!” I shouted. “All of them? And you… you were… engaged? At the same time?”

“Yes,” Lucy admitted, folding her arms. “It was complicated. Political alliances, family arrangements, ancient traditions. None of which involve you, thankfully.” She shot me a look that screamed don’t touch this with your detective hands.

Lily added bitterly, “And I can’t even look at them without wanting to scream. They were… supposed to be my engagement partners.”

Kiara pouted. “And mine too. They were promised to me.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Of course, everything that entered my life had to be chaotic and involve some bizarre twist of fate. First golden towels, now a diamond necklace with emotional attachments.

“So… let me get this straight,” I said slowly, “These four boys… missing necklace… your former engagement partners… and someone inside the family stole it?”

All four females nodded grimly. “Exactly.”

“And you want me, the humble detective… to recover it?”

“Yes,” they chorused, voices tight with tension.

“This time we all will reject their proposals and if we find the necklace they have to listen our rejection too”. All 4 females shook their heads

Seems royal people has royal problems.

I swallowed. “Alright. Step one: tell me everything about this necklace. Step two: tell me everything about the family. Step three: tell me why all my female companions look like I just insulted their ancestors.”

They sighed collectively. “Step three… is complicated,” Queen muttered.

Jane, blissfully unaware of all political drama, perked up. “Diamonds? Can I make something with it? Maybe a pendant or redesign?”

“No!” I snapped. “Focus, Jane. Detective work is involved. Not jewelry business—yet.”

Duke leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harlock is a complicated man. He had four sons who… were supposed to be engaged to the girls in this room. The necklace… was their family heirloom, passed down for generations. Missing it? Big problem.”

My detective brain went into overdrive. Maps, family trees, security logs, possible thieves… all needed analyzing.

I glanced at Lucy. Her expression was a mix of determination and regret. Lily looked like she wanted to strangle someone. Kiara’s jaw was tight, Queen’s eyes were storm clouds. Meanwhile, Jane was doodling designs on a napkin.

I rubbed my temples. “This… is going to be fun,” I muttered, trying to sound enthusiastic while secretly questioning why my life always had to involve royal engagement drama.

“Fun?” Lucy scoffed. “If someone stole the necklace, it’s probably already on its way to the black market. Or worse… in Harlock’s own house somewhere. And we have to retrieve it before the family loses face… or worse, the engagement contracts get voided.”

“Didn’t think being a detective involved keeping track of ex-fiancés,” I said dryly.

Kiara muttered, “Ex-fiancés? You have no idea. These boys… they were monsters. Charming, yes, but also… complicated. And the necklace… priceless. We can’t let it fall into the wrong hands. Then I will cancel this whole engagement, after a long time we all found a proper reason to cancel this engagement”

I pinched my nose again. “Of course it’s complicated. Nothing in my life isn’t. Alright. We do this logically. Maps, alibis, witnesses, potential thieves. Jane, no playing with diamonds. Urara, stay focused on security. Queen, Lucy, Lily, Kiara… try not to murder anyone yet, but this engagement cancel is really important?”

All 4 said “YES”

They all groaned, but I could see it—eyes sparking with determination. The diamond necklace wasn’t just a jewel. It was a test, a challenge, a proper detective case.

Finally, I exhaled. “Okay… Step one: gather intel. Step two: check family networks. Step three: AK-47 standby… maybe. Just in case. Step four… survive emotional trauma of having multiple ex-fiancés in the same room.”

Jane blinked. “You… you can’t use an AK-47 for this, right?”

“Not for the engagement drama,” I replied. “But everything else? Absolutely.”

With that, we prepared for our new adventure. One thing was certain: between lost diamonds, multiple ex-fiancés, a slightly jealous queen, and Jane’s tailor machine, life was about to get… extremely chaotic.

And me? I wouldn’t have it any other way.