The global "Aegis Net" was humming into life, satellites were re-aligning their lenses with predatory precision, and the "Gala Five" were arguing over who got to pilot the lead interceptor. Meanwhile, the most wanted man on the planet was currently having a crisis over a croissant.
Chen Feng had decided that a "Gentleman Thief" could not truly claim the title without visiting the birth country of Arsène Lupin. So, naturally, he had bypassed every radar in the European Union to land in France.
09:00 AM – The Breakfast of Sovereigns
The day began at a tiny, sun-drenched bistro in Montmartre. Chen Feng sat at a round marble table, wearing his red blazer over a striped Breton shirt. He looked less like a cosmic entity and more like a tourist who had tried too hard to "blend in."
"Gary, this bread," Chen Feng said, tearing into a baguette with more focus than he had given the Vatican vault. "It's structurally sound. It's crunchy, yet airy. Why did I waste eons eating celestial nectar when I could have had butter?"
"Boss, we are sitting three blocks away from an Interpol satellite office," Gary hissed, hiding behind a massive map of Paris. "Can we eat with a little less... presence?"
"Nonsense," Chen Feng replied, dipping his bread into a café au lait. "The best place to hide a Sovereign is in plain sight, acting like a man obsessed with carbohydrates."
12:00 PM – The Flâneur's Walk
By noon, Chen Feng was practicing the art of the flâneur—the aimless stroll. He wandered through the Tuileries Garden, stopping to criticize the symmetry of the hedges.
"Too perfect," he muttered to a startled gardener. "Nature should have a bit of 'Salted Fish' laziness. These trees look like they're standing at attention for a Reset."
He spent an hour sitting in a green metal chair by the fountain, watching children sail wooden boats. For a moment, the weight of the Manuscript of Fate in his bag and the Sun-Disk hidden in Gary's backpack felt light. He wasn't a Thief or a God; he was just a man in a red jacket watching the water.
03:00 PM – The "Accidental" Louvre Visit
"We are NOT stealing the Mona Lisa," Gary whispered as they stood in the shadow of the Pyramide du Louvre.
"Why would I want her?" Chen Feng asked, tilting his hat. "She's already being watched by everyone. A true thief steals the things people forget to look at."
Instead of entering the museum, Chen Feng spent two hours in a small, dusty bookstore on the Left Bank. He bought a vintage edition of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar and spent the afternoon reading it on a stone bench overlooking the Seine.
"He's so dramatic," Chen Feng chuckled, pointing at a page. "He leaves a note saying he'll return the furniture once he's polished it. Gary, we need to up our 'snark' game. My stick-figure drawings are a bit primitive."
07:00 PM – The Seine and the Silence
As the sun began to dip, painting the Parisian sky in hues of lavender and gold, Chen Feng took a Bateau-Mouche cruise. He stood at the railing, the wind ruffling his hair.
His phone buzzed. It was a video call from Lin Xia. She was back in school, sitting in a library.
"Where are you now?" she asked, her eyes searching the background.
"In a city that understands that some things are worth stealing," Chen Feng smiled, turning the camera to show the Eiffel Tower beginning to sparkle.
"The whole world is looking for you, Chen Feng. There are warships moving toward the South China Sea because they think you're headed to Asia."
"Let them move," he said softly. "Today, the only thing I'm stealing is a sunset."
11:00 PM – The Midnight Warning
The day ended at a jazz club in a basement in the Latin Quarter. Chen Feng tapped his fingers to the rhythm of a double bass, a glass of red wine in hand.
He felt the Aegis Net pulse. It was faint—a ripple in the spiritual fabric of the city. The governments were closing the cage. They had detected a "flicker" of Sovereign energy near the Notre Dame.
"Time to go, Gary," Chen Feng said, standing up and leaving a tip that would pay the waiter's rent for a year.
"Already? But I just ordered the escargot!"
"The world is trying to manage me again," Chen Feng said, his eyes glowing with that brief, violet spark. "They think they can box in the wind. Let's head to Asia. I think it's time the 'Emperor' met a real Thief."
As they vanished into the Parisian fog, a single "Lupin" calling card was left on the table. It wasn't a stick figure this time. It was a perfectly sketched Eiffel Tower, with a note: "Thanks for the bread. It was the best thing I've stolen all year."