Tiger came running into Liam's office, where the officer was, as usual, enjoying a shoulder massage from one junior officer while sipping tea, his feet propped up on the desk.

  Liam didn't open his eyes. "What is it, Tiger? Brought me my meat toast already?"

  "Sir, you need to see this!" Tiger said, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement as he held out the newspaper. "It's very big news! Everyone in the town is talking about it!"

  Liam cracked one eye open. "What is it now?" He glanced dismissively at the paper. "I keep saying, these things are nothing but a source of negativity. So, what's so special? Did a cat run off with the neighbor's dog, and now both owners are searching for them? If that is the case, tell the owners we're too busy preventing the collapse of society to mediate their pet's elopement."

  The junior officers massaging him chuckled on cue.

  Liam took a large bite of his muffin, speaking around the mouthful. "Go ahead. Read it to me."

  Tiger straightened the paper. "Big News: Pipra Town Sky Gets Ignited in Middle of Night!"

  Liam scoffed, swallowing his food. "What does that even mean? This press can print anything. 'Gets ignited'? What does that mean? Was the sky burning? If so, where are the ashes, huh? So fake." He took a gulp of tea.

  Tiger continued, "Residents witnessed this mysterious phenomenon of a burning fire in the sky meeting sparkling white lightning and are terrified. What must it—"

  "It is nothing!" Liam interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "Probably just some kids launching sky shots, then lightning decided to join as well. Suddenly, our citizens are blind people who can't even differentiate between a burning sky and some firework. Next page."

  "Uh... There are signs of a huge battle and explosions in the town. Could it be related to the sky phenomenon? Some even stated they saw a wave of light go through their alley, which might be related to the mysterious scratches and damage that appeared out of nowhere. A section of road is completely upleveled and broken, damage to some roofs, but no lives were endangered."

  "Damage appeared on its own? How stupid," Liam sneered, his voice dripping with cynical authority. "It appeared because someone did it. This is a peak case of hooliganism! And guess who will take the blame for all this? Not those who did it, no. It will be the guards and officers like us! Where is the sense of responsibility in this town? I mean, you are a bad guy, a hooligan, but at least respect the place where you live! Why cause damage to public property?" He shook his head in mock despair. "And what does 'no life was endangered' mean? Did the newspaper wanted lives to be endangered?"

  Tiger, trying to find a logical explanation, ventured, "Could it be cases of gang war? It has become very tense these days."

  "Of course, it is! If not them, then who is it?" Liam retorted.

  Tiger read the next line, hesitantly. "Meanwhile, our guards and officers fail to do anyth—"

  "What did you say?" Liam's eyes snapped open, his voice sharp. "Being an officer, you are criticizing us?"

  "Sir, I am just reading!" Tiger squeaked.

  "If so, continue," Liam said, his eyes narrowing.

  "About anything, neither this nor about the killer going around... who killed another two girls yesterday. Alongside them, three guards were also found dead, cut open from piece to piece." Tiger's voice dropped to a whisper. "Who could be behind such a horrible thing, and when will our officials actually do anything?"

  The last line hit its mark. Liam's cynical facade faltered. The joking light in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, still silence. He said nothing, a noticeable change that made the junior officers stop their massaging.

  Tiger, unnerved, pushed on. "But it looks like the gangs have become more interested in the killer than the law is. Many smaller gangs have stated they will hunt for the killer themselves now. Whether it is a public stunt or because of something else is still to be known."

  Liam's eyes narrowed, grasping the full weight of that information—the chaos was creating its own, unpredictable ecosystem. He finally spoke, his voice flat and devoid of its earlier mockery. "That's enough. Now, bring me my toast."

  Tiger nodded quickly and left, the heavy silence lingering in the office long after he was gone.

  Liam:“ that's why I say newspaper only bring negativity ”

  After spending some time in the office's disturbing silence, Tiger returned, placing a file and a plate of meat toast on Liam's desk.

  "Sir, it's the report you asked for," Tiger said quietly. "It's not complete, but I used the old database and scoured new sources in town. I compiled everything as you requested yesterday. I hope it's useful."

  Liam took the file. "If possible, don't tell anyone such a file exists. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir."

  File in hand, Liam stood and left the office. "I'm going on patrol!" he shouted to his juniors. "Say that if anyone asks."

  He walked with purpose through the streets, maintaining the lazy, slouching facade he wore every day. This time, however, there were slight cracks in the performance, which he quickly identified and sealed, fixing his mask firmly back in place before he reached his destination.

  He navigated the maze of alleyways to Bolo's hideout—or what was left of it. The place had reverted to its original purpose of a dairy. A few cows, a buffalo, some goats, and chickens were now penned on the very spot where illegal activities once thrived.

  As Liam entered, he called out with exaggerated concern, "Mr. Bolo! Mr. Bolo!" He looked around theatrically.

  A man, heavily bandaged with his arm and leg in casts, his face swollen and wrapped in white patches, limped forward. "Yes, sir? How can I help you?" he asked, his voice thick with pain.

  Liam looked at him with dramatic shock. "Brother! This place used to be a small shop that ran... a gambling house," he whispered, before returning to his normal tone. "What happened to it? What is with all these cows and chickens?"

  The man replied wearily, "There used to be something like that. But last night, a monster came and demolished the whole operation from top to bottom."

  Liam feigned shock. "What happened to Sir Bolo? Where is he?"

  The bandaged man sighed. "Officer... I am Bolo."

  Liam acted stunned, looking him up and down while secretly analyzing the extent of the damage. "Good lord! Who did this to you, Sir Bolo? Tell me at once! I will show him in a moment—how dare he treat you like this!" He made a show of clenching his fist.

  "Leave it, Officer," Bolo said, waving a bandaged hand. "He was like a very strong gust of wind. He came suddenly and took everything with him."

  "Who is he? Tell me."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Bolo turned toward a hay bale to feed his cows. "I've had my share, Officer. I do not desire any more trouble."

  Liam leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I have eaten your donuts."

  "Forget those donuts, Officer. I won't be able to bring you anymore. But I could help you with some milk."

  Liam straightened up. "Okay. Milk is good. The dairy business is also quite flourishing, isn't it?" He paused, his tone shifting to something more serious. "But can I receive little information?"

  "What is it you want?"

  "Quite a few things, actually. You know about the serial killer, right? I heard some gangs have decided to chase him. What is the reason behind it?"

  Bolo grunted. "I do. From what I gather, the killer is an issue for our kind as well. Since we aren't exactly registered or filing reports, you wouldn't know the real numbers. But the killer has actually killed a lot of people from many major gangs and families. Remember the two more girls killed today? From the Sparrows, I hear. These were the daughters of a powerful gang leader. So the matter has become... personal. And the 'gust of wind' I told you about further amplified it. Both he and the killer are prime targets now."

  Liam let the information sink in. "Then, am I allowed another question?"

  "Be my guest."

  "Where can I find a list of suspicious people, or more about the victims?"

  "You'll have to hit the entertainment district. You know who rules that part of the city, right? Since the killer has a habit of targeting women more than men, that area was, and is, a hot zone. Most women there are... trafficked women, so obviously, the numbers there are very high. Though, getting to talk to her is no easy feat. Other than that, you can try visiting the—"

  "Thanks for your information, Mister," Liam cut in, having heard enough.

  "It's fine. But what are you going to do with it? Catch that killer?" Bolo chuckled painfully as he fed the cows. "Even after looking at the fireworks yesterday... this is no longer a time for weak men. Things are about to change. God knows what's next."

  Liam turned and walked away. As he moved through the alleys, he muttered to himself, the words a perfect blend of his corrupt persona and his hidden resolve, "Catch him? Obviously not. Just fulfilling some formality. Who would be that crazy to jump into this fire?"

  Jim arrived with Lucien on the other side of Pipra. This district was a vast area of the city, further divided by the type of commerce.

  The outer rings held shops for handicrafts, small factories, hand looms, decorative, and paintings. The deeper one went, the more the character shifted to cafés and restaurants. The lighter part of the city's nightlife.

  After that came taverns, small clubs, and guild halls. And at the very heart lay the Entertainment District. The name itself was hint enough.

  As Lucien walked, his eyes scanned the environment, cataloging everything. His gaze settled on a warehouse-like shop with numerous paintings displayed on its outer walls for sale.

  One piece captured his attention, a simple rose, drawn uniquely. The entire canvas was a field of deep red, but the shape of the rose itself was left as untouched white.

  Another was a stark black canvas with a sliver of a blood-red moon. There were more pieces like this, beautiful in a way, but calling them unique fit’s better. Others were straight-up abstract creations.

  Hmm, It is as if the creator chose to draw what he felt about the subject, rather than what he saw.

  The more he looked, the clearer it became that a deeply passionate individual, one with a turbulent interior world, had created these works.

  What Lucien found more interesting was the fact that there were also perfectly normal drawings nearby. The kind of generic landscapes and portraits an artist would produce for the general populace.

  A person who paints the world through his eyes and feelings, but is also perfectly capable of imitating normality. As if he knows how to disappear in a crowd.

  Jim sighed, breaking his concentration. "What, you want to buy a painting too? Hurry up and decide, will ya?"

  As he was looking, a young lady came running out from inside the shop. It was Anna. "Hello! How can I help you?" she asked, her voice bright.

  Lucien recognized her instantly—the woman from the river, for whom three men had fought a brutal battle the night before.

  She has quite the confidence, still wandering outside freely when she has been marked as a target.

  "Yes," he said, his voice flat. "I would."

  Anna smiled. "Which one will it be?"

  Lucien entered the shop, his eyes scanning the interior with methodical precision.

  He stopped before a well-rendered portrait of a storm over a seaside.

  The painting was immersive, capturing the violence of the churning waves and the heavy, oppressive storm clouds with startling skill.

  He pointed. "This one."

  "Sure! I will get it ready for you. That will be ten dimitri."

  A sudden, laid-back voice interrupted from the doorway. "Could I have one painting as well?"

  Liam stood there, leaning against the frame, doing his best impression of an art connoisseur with a discerning eye and all the time in the world.

  Jim’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the uniform. “An officer. What a surprise. I thought you guys only showed up after everything is already wrapped up. That painting is yet to be packed—showing up a little early, isn't it?”

  Liam laughed, a low, easy sound, and sauntered over to Jim. “What a little bastard you are, to insult a working officer to his face,” he said, his tone deceptively light. “I could arrest you on the spot, you know. I don't need a warrant or a reason for it. You know that, right?”

  A bead of sweat traced a path down Jim’s temple.

  Liam’s grin widened. “But don’t worry. I won’t actually do that. I’m a nice officer. But others aren’t. Keep that in mind.”

  As he was talking, Lucien moved. He didn't step aggressively, but simply came forward, positioning himself. His movement drew Liam’s attention.

  Liam turned his head and found himself locked in Lucien’s gaze. The man’s eyes were cold, devoid of any discernible emotion. Liam could feel a subtle shift in the surrounding air, a pressure that seemed to whisper that Lucien had not appreciated the threat leveled at Jim.

  “And who might you be?” Liam asked, his voice losing some of its practiced laziness.

  Lucien didn’t answer. He just looked, his eyes so cold and detached that Liam knew, on an instinctual level, he could not compete with that stillness. It felt as if his eye alone will consume him.

  If Lucien wished, he could make Liam’s heart falter in his chest just by releasing the full weight of his presence. But he chose not to.

  Anna’s voice cut through the tense standoff. “Yes, Officer! I can show you which one you want!”

  Liam broke eye contact immediately, “Yeah, which would you say is the best one among them?”

  His reason for being here was simple. Through his sources, he had discovered that Anna was the target of the attack by the river.

  He knew the Yellow Weaver’s type, the obsession wouldn't have faded. He was here to keep a watch and see if any suspicious characters were circling their wounded prey. And at that very moment, he believed he had found one.

  While Liam was distracted, Lucien handed Anna a 100-dimitri bill, took his wrapped painting, and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Liam called out, his voice sharp, not looking away from the paintings. “We aren’t done yet.”

  “Sir, your change!” Anna said, holding out the money.

  Jim, who was already following Lucien out the door, glanced back. “Keep it,” he said, and the two of them were about to disappear into the flow of the street.

  Liam hastily shoved a 100-dimitri bill into Anna's hand as well, grabbed the nearest painting, a generic depiction of a castle, and ran after the two retreating figures, barely catching up to them on the crowded street.

  "Hey! Hear me out," Liam called, a bit breathless. "Ignoring a working officer is not a good idea."

  Lucien and Jim kept walking as if he didn't exist.

  Annoyance flared in Liam's voice. "I can take you in, you know! Forget it, I'm taking you to the department! If you don't want that, then at least tell me your name!"

  This time, Lucien stopped. He looked back over his shoulder, and his voice, when he spoke, was not loud, but it was a blade of pure, commanding force. "Lucien Sinclair."

  The name, or perhaps the sheer, unshielded authority behind it, was enough to make Liam physically stumble back five steps. He caught himself, his heart hammering, and quickly regained his composure.

  "Who are you?" Liam asked again, the question now layered with a new, wary intensity.

  Jim rolled his eyes. "Didn't he just tell you? If you want to know about me, then I'm Jim Sinclair."

  "I haven't seen you anywhere. Are you new?" Liam pressed, his eyes flicking between them.

  "There are thousands of people in this city, another thousand come and go. Do you know everyone?" Jim shot back.

  Before Liam could formulate a retort, Lucien answered, his tone now calm but final, like a judge delivering a verdict. "I am new. I arrived yesterday for family business. Is that enough to get you off my back?"

  Liam studied him for a long moment, the gears in his head turning. "I'll think about it," he said, the bluster gone from his voice, replaced by a calculating coolness. "But couldn't you have done this much earlier without wasting any of our time?"

  "It is you who is wasting your own time," Lucien stated. He turned and walked away, Jim falling into step beside him.

  Liam didn't follow this time. He stood in the street, watching them disappear into the crowd before turning and walking back toward Anna's shop.

  He murmured to himself, piecing it together. "What a weird guy... If he arrived yesterday, he must be that guy from the carriage who got a lot of attention in the market, as per the report. He fits the description. From his behavior, his timing, and the fact he's with family, possibly a noble family. It's less likely he has anything to do with the killing or the killer. But I should still look more into him. He has a very shady air about him. I mean, who ignores a high-ranking officer like that? Insulting someone behind their back is one thing, but showing your disdain so openly is unheard of. Still, technically, that Lucien guy didn’t show any real hostility. It was more like annoyance, or maybe he just made me feel as if I were nothing in his eyes."

  He glanced back in the direction Lucien had gone, his detective's instinct warring with his logic. "Before that," he concluded, steeling his resolve, "Anna is the priority for now."