Diamante

Heinz is a gem appraiser who has provided appraisals for many nobles in Einwald, while Diamante is a notorious thief linked to numerous gem thefts.

Imaging tests show the indistinct outlines of internal organs, obscured by abnormal shadows. Originium granules detected in the circulatory system. The subject is confirmed to be infected with Oripathy.

[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 6%
Originium crystals can be found on the surface of the subject's body and have begun to affect his vision.

[Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.26u/L
The subject has been Infected for a considerable period of time. Although he is fairly conscientious about protection, his condition remains serious.

The name Diamante strikes fear into the hearts of many Leithanian nobles. The thief who takes that name has conducted many heists over the past several years, sending notices of said heists to their spires, putting them in frontpage ads, and even having concert MCs announce them. The thief, who only ever targets precious gems, never misses an appointment or fails to take his mark.
Whether confident in the nobles' desperation to cover up their failures, or in his own ability to pull wool over people's eyes, the appraiser has continued to use the nickname even after coming to Rhodes Island. The truth has always laid there, but no operator recognized him for a long time until someone happened to be looking at some old files, and linked Diamante—the lethargic but helpful operator with a knack for providing a new perspective—with Diamante, the notorious and eccentric thief.
Curiosity overcame fear, and the operators who learned of this tracked him down, whereupon they unleashed a barrage of questions: How did you fool all the guards? How did you fence the gems? How did the victims react? How come your heists are spread all over Leithanien, but the appraiser Heinz of Grinden always had a perfect alibi?
Diamante was surprisingly forthcoming and nonchalant with his answers. Taking out the case files, he began to explain the process of his heists with not a trace of smugness or braggadocio, only his usual sincerity and a hint of chagrin. He filled in the blanks in the records with floor plans, explained his inelegant routes, and highlighted the equipment required to cover his tracks while complaining about the cost. As for the guards that could not be avoided, he admitted that they were actually his accomplices. The pre-heist notices he was infamous for were explained as a psychological trick to make it easier to predict the mark's reactions.
Revealing his tricks took away the mystique, and the operators quickly lost interest in Diamante the gem thief. Others would come to discover his secret from time to time, but he never became the talk of the ship, nor did anyone realize that disclosing his identity to Rhodes Island was one of the terms in his cooperation agreement in order to receive treatment. As he made gems disappear in plain sight, so too did he hide himself from the eyes of other operators.
Only once did Diamante ever show excitement, inadvertently crushing a newly-cut gem into pieces. When he was asked whether he was influenced by folk tales of heroic outlaws who stole from the rich to give to the poor.

Diamante often omits the most unremarkable yet crucial parts of the trick when he tells his stories, i.e. his agility and delicate Originium Arts. Those who use the same type of Arts undoubtedly appreciate the precision behind the phrase 'influence the perception of a gem by adjusting the refraction of light,' as well as his familiarity with the nature of gems. His light-based Arts are expressed in a variety of ways in his unpredictable actions. All of this implies that Diamante should be a talented caster, well-versed in the systematic Arts education of Leithanien.
During entrance testing, however, he tested only average in Arts, and his theoretical knowledge was equivalent to Leithanien's secondary education at best. Diamante has admitted that his diverse use of Arts is based mostly on his unique weapon, a wand that reacts with gems of different types, turning the energy that he generates into more effective Arts. He brought out a set of test tubes that he carried in his briefcase—swearing that he did not steal the gemstone roughs within, which were purchased at a bargain—and demonstrated how his Arts could create various effects, from corroding metal to obscuring vision, through a variety of different mediums. He has worked closely with Engineering to conduct further research into the wand.
Testing indicates that it only worked its magic in the hands of Diamante; to others, it is merely an ordinary Arts Unit of below-average efficiency. Yet Diamante adamantly denies that the weapon was made for him, nor could he supply any information on who made it and where it came from. Though it is clear that the former is a question he cannot answer, while the latter is one that he merely chooses not to.

'If none of my Leithanian colleagues are around, then let me just say it straight: I don't think there's much point in reverse-engineering this. It could well be just another one of their shiny toys—I mean, creations lacking in versatility. Still, I did look up some old academic journals, and found references to it in a publication ten years ago.
'It seems that what Diamante has provided is a prototype rather than a finished work. The date on record, if accurate, indicates that the creator passed away before he could complete it.
'I could not bring myself to tell him this conclusion. He seemed to have a hard time accepting the fact that the wand only worked its magic in his hand. It almost seemed like he wanted to be free of it.
'He may have obtained it by chance, but as a matter of fact, he also completed it by chance.'
- Engineering Department audio log

It began six months ago. A few days after one of Diamante's heists, a Grinden newspaper published an article dissecting his methods. While heavily flawed, the message between the lines was clear: The author knew his identity, and whether he went public with it or not depended on whether Diamante cooperated. The following day, he received a blank letter at his workshop.
Diamante had spent enough time in noble circles to understand the meaning of the threat, and knew he had no choice but to follow the instructions. He received no further letters, but commentaries from his counterpart appeared in local newspapers from time to time. For those not in the know, he seemed to be accepting the anonymous challenges time after time, proving the challenger wrong with every success, but Diamante knew that the man behind the article was not his adversary, but the mastermind behind his heists, and there would come a day when the rug was pulled from under his feet.
The story of Diamante, the gem thief, ended when he attempted to steal Vizegraf Quinn's diamond necklace. In an uncharacteristically sloppy performance, he allowed the Gendarmerie to track the trail of stolen goods to his workshop, where he was ambushed the night he was expecting the stolen item to arrive. Caught off guard, he was injured by the Gendarmerie. He managed to escape, but had to leave behind the briefcase that stored the stolen diamond necklace, which was recovered by the Gendarmerie.
According to Diamante's account, with nowhere to run, he turned to Rhodes Island, which took him in and saved his life simply because he was Infected. As for why the necklace in the briefcase turned out to be a fake, or how what he left in the briefcase and workshop together revealed an altogether different crime—one leading to a high-ranking noble who often published music commentaries in the papers—Diamante claimed ignorance.
Meanwhile, the operator who first welcomed Diamante to a Rhodes Island branch a hundred kilometers from Grinden reported that it was the second time he had seen him. The first was when the operator visited Vizegraf Quinn as the representative of Rhodes Island, requesting truthful reports about Infections in the Vizegraf's manors and workshops; there he encountered the gem appraiser in front of the parlor. The second was when Diamante visited the branch himself, wounded and exhausted, his right arm limp from being hit by Arts. The first thing Diamante did when the operator opened the door was take out a thick stack of reports.
'We don't set barriers for patients in need of treatment. We don't want to encourage the idea that patients must come bearing gifts, and we certainly don't want to encourage anyone to intentionally harm themselves and get sick in order to gain an opportunity for treatment. But I can understand why Diamante did it. He had placed all his hopes in us.'
Having analyzed Diamante's latent risk, we believe that he will not pose a risk to Rhodes Island as long as he is not sent back to Leithanien. However, he has apparently not abandoned the life of a gem thief, as is evident from his use of Diamante as his code name, and has said, after explaining his methods in detail, that 'It's okay, I'm not explaining the trick I'll use next time.'

Most gem appraisers focus on the genuineness, craftsmanship, and market value of a gem, but Diamante's interest is in the gem's characteristics and the process by which it was excavated, a field which he is well-versed in. He can often be seen talking to Leithanian geologists such as Earthspirit, sometimes even getting the busy Eyjafjalla to join the conversation. His explanation is that a familiarity with minerals is important in picking catalysts for his weapon, while more esoteric knowledge can also be helpful in conversing with nobles while they await the results of an appraisal. In other words, his interest in such knowledge is born of necessity, rather than curiosity.
Diamante's animosity towards gemstones is beyond doubt. Assuming his account is truthful, he spent his childhood in a gem mine, and something traumatic happened there which has stayed with him all his life. No matter how he came into possession of his weapon, he was forced to come into contact with gemstones again, working his way up from apprentice to appraiser, and making a living out of what he hated most.
One day, though, a medic brought a young patient to Diamante's workshop on Rhodes Island, which, due to the lack of demand for appraisal services aboard the landship, is usually reserved for his own research and the occasional eccentric order from Closure.
The young patient took out a small rough gem, which Diamante laid on velvet and prepared to appraise. However, the young patient's question was not how much it was worth, but whether it was pretty or not.
Diamante did not answer immediately. The medic saw a wry, bitter smile on his face before he gave a small nod.

[Invitation Letter]
There is a classical Leithanian concert at the city hall of the nomadic city that Rhodes Island is approaching tomorrow night. I would like to invite you to accompany me, and I promise not to break too many rules, other than forging a few keys and drilling a tiny hole in the wall of the concert hall. Perhaps I might whistle along with the strings, but I doubt any audience members would complain, as I will be sitting atop of the dome roof by then.
Feel free to assess my methods, like you have the past few times, but this time I will not be setting the riddle myself.
I only hope that you can answer a few questions: As someone who knows nothing of music theory, how should I understand the emotions the tune evokes?
And how should I understand myself, after cruel fate has twisted me?