District Z, Link Hospital
"Ahhh...!"Screams pierced through the air, echoing from the fourth-floor restroom.
A terrified patient burst out of the restroom, his feet leaving red footprints across the hallway. He looked young—maybe just thirteen or fourteen—and sprinted straight into a staff member who had just exited a nearby room. The staffer failed to stop him, but another male staffer coming out of a ward stepped in. The boy almost crashed into him, but the staffer managed to catch him just in time.
"Calm down, boy! Tell me what happened!" said the first staff member, who had come running after him. The boy was clearly shaken, trembling with fear at whatever he had seen inside. The second staff member gently patted his shoulder, trying to soothe him. After a few seconds, the boy was finally able to speak. Even recalling the memory made his stomach churn. The boy pointed at the door, his whole arm trembling, knuckles white from how hard he gripped the staff's sleeve.
"Th-there! Blood! Murder! A body!" the young patient stammered, pointing a shaking finger at the restroom door. His eyes were wide with fear, his pupils trembling. The two staff members exchanged grim looks.
"You take care of the boy. I'll go check inside," said the older staff member, his brow furrowed. He tapped his smartwatch to call nearby personnel.
Moments later, several more staff members arrived and quickly entered the restroom. What they saw made their blood run cold.
The floor was soaked in blood. The walls were smeared with crimson splashes—one massive streak stretched across the far wall, as if blood had been thrown horizontally with force.
And there, in the center, lay a body—drenched from head to toe in blood. The person had white hair, now nearly stained red.
"This is... definitely a murder!" shouted one staff member, his voice shaking.
They all froze for a moment. The body looked young, judging from its build and height. But just then, an older staff member noticed something.
"Wait—his finger just twitched!"
"He's alive! Get him out, now!" he barked, quickly summoning a robotic emergency bed.
The team moved fast. Within minutes, the body was transferred to the emergency room.
The doctors there wasted no time. For them, saving people was a daily job—some already dead, some barely clinging to life. This one was the latter. Using Soul Tools specialized for healing and analysis, they got to work.
"Run a scan. Quick!" ordered the lead doctor.
The fastest way to save a patient like this is to first find out what's wrong, the doctor thought. Then we can heal the specific part directly.
"What the hell? Why is it not working? You try. I can't find anything wrong here," said one doctor with a stethoscope-type Soul Tool, confusion written on his face, turning to a colleague.
The second doctor stepped in with his own version of the same tool. These types of Soul Tools were common—most people didn't have enough Soul Fragments to craft unique tools, so they relied on pre-existing frameworks to reduce the risk during crafting.
After checking second doctor ran a hand through his hair, then said in a surprised tone, "...There's nothing wrong with his body."
'Then whose blood is he soaked in...? ' the lead doctor thought, brow furrowed.
'If it's not his... we need to call the cops.'
Not wanting to mess with the blood at the scene—lest they get in trouble themselves—they didn't dare to perform any blood tests before the police arrived.
---
District Z, Police Station — Morning
The District Z Police Station buzzed with activity as officers moved back and forth. The building was divided into several office cabins, the largest of which belonged to the chief. To the left was a stairway leading down to a temporary jail—used to hold petty troublemakers.
Officer Jean had just arrived at work. She had long black hair, a sharp, attractive face, and a reputation for dedication. She was one of the five Soul Forgers stationed there. Not everyone could become a Soul Forger—the minimum requirement was at least twenty Soul Fragments, making Soul Forgers a rarity. Only one in ten thousand could qualify.
Jean was a justice-driven officer. Since childhood, she had dreamed of becoming a cop and punishing criminals. Now that dream had come true. She had solved many cases and earned the chief's personal praise more than once. After greeting a fellow officer heading home, she went to her desk to settle in.
Then she got herself a cup of coffee.
'Hmm, needs more sugar,' Jean thought as she grabbed four heaping spoonfuls from beside the machine.
sipsip
'Now that's better,' she smiled, savoring the flavor as she made her way back to her chair.
Suddenly, her smartwatch beeped. A message popped up, displaying an address in their district: Link Hospital, Street Four.
{Investigation Mission}The details were written in the lower section.
"Investigation, huh? It's been a while," Jean mumbled, narrowing her eyes as she set her cup down.
Footsteps echoed behind her, coming from a cabin. She turned and saw John, who had just stepped out of his office with a mug in hand. A middle-aged man with black hair and an oval face, John had worked with Jean on several cases. He was also a longtime local, well-acquainted with the streets of District Z.
"Sir, we got a mission," Jean said seriously.
"So early? What's it about?" John asked, frowning as he stepped back inside to put down his coffee.
"Investigation—possibly even a murder case," Jean replied curtly.
"Where to?" he asked, already grabbing his cap.
'First thing in the morning... this better be serious or I'll be pissed,' John thought as he stepped out again, more alert this time.
"Street Four. Link Hospital," Jean informed him, strapping her gun to her waist. She was a Soul Forger, and her weapon—Instant Bullet—could be fired from any handgun and had a unique return property that allowed her to fire rapidly like an automatic weapon.
"I'll get the hover car. Meet me at the front gate," John said.
He walked toward the parking lot to the left of the station while Jean gathered her gear and stepped out onto the street to wait.
John reached the hover car, scanned his fingerprint, and after a short delay, pulled it out of the lot.
"Get in," he said, he pulled up to the gate.
Jean climbed in, and together, they sped off toward the hospital.
---
As Jean and John reached the hospital, the lead doctor briefed them on what had happened and guided them to the emergency room.
Suddenly, a nurse rushed out, her face pale.
"He... He woke up!"
"The blood-soaked boy?" John asked, his brows furrowed.
"Yes, but—something's wrong. He's not speaking. Just... staring."
Jean narrowed her eyes. "Take us to him."
Inside the room, Rex sat upright on the hospital bed.
The monitor beside him showed stable vitals.
But his face—It was cold. Emotionless. Empty.
Jean froze.
She had seen that expression only a handful of times in her career. It was always the same.
The face of a high-level psychopath. A killer.