Robin's Prosthetic Hand

“Hehehe, you exaggerate. Those are just rumors spread by busybodies. Everything is subject to the official announcement.”

“Once the cocktail reception begins, Her Highness the Princess will naturally make the announcement, and everyone will know then.”

“Haha, I'm not trying to keep you in suspense. I'd love for everyone to know the results sooner too, but this concerns Her Highness. A commoner like me wouldn't dare speak out of turn. It's best if you My Lords wait for Her Highness to tell you herself. There's only half an hour left anyway, so please be patient a little longer.”

Lynch stood under a lamp in a corner of the courtyard, holding a wine glass. Over a dozen guests sat or stood around him, making this corner the liveliest area of the Count's residence. At this moment, Lynch seemed like a completely different person, relaxed and completely at ease under everyone's gaze. Not only was he highly familiar with the identities and preferences of the surrounding nobles, but his etiquette and conversation were also impeccable.

Faced with everyone's probing, he didn't give a single definitive answer, shifting everything onto Princess Chloe. Yet, his actions told a different story. He mysteriously pulled out a cloth pouch, opening a small slit at the mouth, and a brilliant red light instantly flared. This immediately made everyone realize that the gem the Princess had lost had indeed been successfully recovered within a few days by this suddenly rising detective.

Officer Natalie Angel cast a puzzled glance at him, feeling that this fellow was showing off on purpose. However, since Lynch hadn't told her, he surely had his reasons, so the officer didn't ask further.

Having seen with their own eyes that the lost item had been recovered, the guests praised Lynch endlessly. For a time, laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air, and the exceptionally harmonious atmosphere made them the focus of the entire venue.

But some people were not quite so harmonious.

A young guest seemed to be bumped by someone behind him, stumbling a few steps toward Lynch and barely coming to a stop right next to him. Just as he steadied himself and was about to apologize for his clumsiness, he looked up and saw that Lynch had just turned to the other side. Standing in front of him instead was Lynch's tall female companion, staring at him with squinted eyes and a half-smile. The man frowned, nodded with a polite smile, and retreated back into the crowd, covertly signaling with his eyes toward the outside.

A moment later, a waiter carrying a tray passed by the crowd. His eyes met the young man's for a split second before he slightly adjusted his direction, cutting toward the edge of the crowd.

As he drew closer, two black-clad security guards suddenly emerged from behind the crowd, directly blocking the waiter's path. The two quickly stepped aside, but the way they dodged just happened to block the waiter's angle of approach to the crowd. Their expressionless gazes met, and the waiter took the opportunity to change direction again, cutting past the crowd and quickly moving away. The two security guards turned and melted into the shadows cast by the nearby bushes.

Soon, four or five other guests were drawn over from different directions, chatting and laughing as they approached to join the crowd. One of them covertly flashed a boutonnière toward some unknown corner before approaching the crowd with his companions.

Just then, two waiters carrying empty trays walked over from the side, crossing paths with the group. No one noticed that hidden behind the waiters' trays were two syringes filled with transparent liquid.

The group quickly reached the edge of the crowd. When they looked back, they realized one of their companions—the one wearing the boutonnière—was missing. Looking back, they saw that this companion had somehow already sat down on a nearby bench, his eyes tightly closed as he snored softly. Approaching him, they could smell a strong scent of alcohol. He looked exactly like someone who had overindulged and passed out. Feeling embarrassed and angry, the group quickly supported their disgraced companion and sent him to a guest room to rest.

For a time, similar situations occurred repeatedly. People with suspicious expressions tried to approach the talking detective under various guises, but other equally suspicious-looking people would always pop up at just the right moment, quietly forcing them back.

Yet those who approached didn't force the issue. They would immediately switch to a different angle and identity, quietly drawing close once more, only to be forced back again by others.

The two sides were like two martial arts masters. One constantly probed the opponent, ready to drive deep and land a fatal blow the moment a flaw was shown. The other side defended tightly, quietly parrying every attack and never showing a single opening.

Undercurrents surged continuously, and in the blink of an eye, half an hour had passed.

After a round of intense socializing, as other guests continued to arrive, the crowd's attention was gradually drawn to the newcomers. They finally let Lynch go; the guests surrounding him thinned out, and people no longer greeted him so frequently.

Lynch could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He went to the mansion's washroom to tidy himself up a bit before returning to the garden. Holding a glass of red wine, he sat alone among the scattered guests, quietly waiting for the reception to officially begin.

Since the crowd around him had dispersed, it was no longer convenient for those suspicious probers to approach frequently, so they restrained themselves. Occasionally, someone would still try, but the Watchers' line of defense remained tight, never giving those with ill intent any opportunity.

Everything was progressing well. However, outside the range of Lynch and the Watchers' attention, in the shadows of the bushes beyond the garden lights, someone was closely watching everything happening at the venue.

“Damn it, Mr. Kelvin, you were right. Those disgusting Watchers have indeed entered the field. With them interfering behind the scenes, my people can't get close to that detective at all. Let alone getting the item, they can't even confirm if it's on him.”

“This is a good thing. Without the protection of the Watchers, how could we soothe his tension? If he actually found a room to hide in, it would be even more troublesome for us.”

In the darkness, a tall shadow spoke in an elegant and relaxed tone:

“Now this cunning fellow has finally fallen for it. He probably never would have imagined that these people were only meant to distract him and make him lower his guard.”

“Hehe, yes. As long as his vigilance drops below a certain level, he is a defenseless prey before Robin's Prosthetic Hand.”

With a rustling sound, Walker pulled out a wooden glove and slowly put it on his hand:

“I bet he never would have dreamed that Princess Chloe had no choice but to agree to lend out this mystery relic. I'm sorry, Mr. Lynch Levive, but the game is over. The gem is mine now.”

With that, the wooden glove clawed at the air in Lynch's direction, and then he confidently opened his hand.

His smile instantly froze on his face, because there was nothing in the glove.

The way the glove worked was very simple. As long as the target item had once belonged to the user, the target's vigilance had dropped below a certain level, and the user visualized the item in their mind, then with a simple grab, the target item would appear in the glove.

Conceptually, the gem had indeed been transferred to Walker—Lynch had done it himself. Therefore, all the conditions for using the prosthetic hand were met. Now that it hadn't been grabbed, there was only one possibility.

The target was not on him at all.

“Damn it, did he give it to Angel?” Walker's face paled. “Wasn't someone keeping an eye on him the entire time? How did he have the time... Damn it, the washroom! They must have exchanged the gem in the washroom. No wonder that woman suddenly vanished. He stayed behind to attract our attention while she hid with the gem to buy time. Those two bastards played me again! Go search! Didn't you already put markers on both of them? No matter where she is hiding, find her for me! Go, quickly!”