~Chapter 2~
Just before the platform completely disappeared from view, Iris could faintly see the noblewoman running with her dress flapping in the wind.
Of course, even at a glance, she didn’t look nearly as composed as she had been at the coffeehouse.
Talking all that nonsense about her son and status…
Turns out her “noble status” was about as thin as the envelope of cash she’d thrown on the floor.
‘See? I told you you’d regret it.’
Folding the fake business card she had just thrown together, Iris brushed her long, annoying hair back behind her ear.
Then she slipped the neatly folded card into the steaming teacup in front of her.
[Investment Specialist, Iris Plan]
Watching the letters slowly blur and disappear on the cheap-quality paper made her feel even better.
Her eyes were dripping with joy as she looked at her heavy suitcase.
From the way that man had moved his lips when he collapsed earlier, he was probably calling her a con artist or something. But she didn’t care.
Why not?
“Because I’m Iris Plan.”
A con artist among con artists.
She always targeted people from her own line of work.
That mother and son now probably grabbing each other by the collar on the platform?
They were actually scam artists who had fled from the capital.
They had scammed people with fake investments—only to be scammed themselves by her.
“We’re both con artists! Why are you doing this to me?!”
When you wander around pulling cons, fellow swindlers sometimes ask questions like that.
But Iris didn’t have a deep reason.
“An eye for an eye! A tooth for a tooth!”
She had just figured out that simple truth of life a bit earlier than most.
She had also learned it from her teacher:
“Scamming other scammers means there’s almost no risk of getting reported!”
Honestly, if she could go back, she would’ve probably pouted and told him to stop talking nonsense.
But back then, Iris had been young and innocent.
Still, now that some time had passed—he had a point.
Sure, there were some dumb con artists out there.
But even they wouldn’t report that they had been scammed.
The worse their crimes were, the more true that was.
Because if they did report it, they’d be the ones getting arrested first.
And the nastier the swindler, the more money there was to steal from them.
Of course, there were clear downsides.
“Ugh… this took way longer than I thought. No wonder—he used to be in the same business, so he’s got good instincts.”
Because they were also con artists, they didn’t trust people easily.
And if you slipped up even once, you could get scammed instead.
That meant each job took a lot of planning and effort.
In short: the money was good, but the efficiency was terrible.
“Ugh! My precious six months!”
Even while she was groaning, the view outside the train was quickly changing.
Red, yellow, blue.
There were houses with single-colored roofs, and even grand mansions with multiple rooftops.
“…There are more houses now.”
She saw more and more homes popping up even along the train tracks.
So why didn’t she have a house yet?
Just moments ago, her heavy suitcase had felt satisfying—now it felt ridiculously light.
“At this rate, how will I ever get a house on Haraka Island? I’m going to die running scams forever.”
Her good mood crashed instantly.
Six years.
That’s how long she had left until she turned thirty.
She had stormed out from her teacher’s side saying she’d retire at thirty and live the rest of her life off the money she made by then.
…And it had also been six years since she had declared to her mocking teacher that once the money she saved by thirty ran out, that would be the day she entered her grave.
She had spent all those years paying off her debts to her teacher with every bit she earned…
“No wonder it feels like I’m always broke!”
She still had a mountain of debt left.
At this rate, what was the point of being a con artist?
“…No. I can’t go on like this.”
A determined light flashed in Iris’s eyes.
It was time for a big score—for real this time.
