I'm sure it wasn't suicide. I just know it."
At the Golden Justice precinct, the topic of conversation was the same as it had been all week.
"Come on, it's obvious what happened. Green Ice got scared. He knew Smile X would kill him if he talked, that's all."
Officer Jhon repeated the same theory everyone else had been telling Alicia.
Green Ice's death had officially been ruled a suicide—a common way for criminals to preserve their status.
Bazt had determined that the poison used matched the one from Smile X's fourth known murder.
Security cameras hadn't caught anything, and the power outage was chalked up to a strange coincidence.
"I know, but I still don't buy it. Something doesn't add up," Alicia muttered, sipping her bitter coffee.
"The past is in the past. Best focus on current cases. What do we have for today?"
"Today we party, 'cause there's no work!"
To their surprise, a woman entered the office—alongside Bazt.
She wore sleek black heels, had shiny chestnut hair, and dark sunglasses that gave her an air of dominance with just the right touch of flirt.
"Miss Margaret! What a pleasure to have you here!"
Alicia greeted her with a radiant smile.
Lady Margaret—known as the most elegant and sharpest detective in the city. Her fashion sense was top-tier, and she cracked cases in record time.
People often compared her—and sometimes romantically paired her—with Bazt.
"Apologies for not calling ahead. We were on a date and thought we'd stop by," Bazt said with a soft smile.
Few knew the truth: they really were dating.
"No, the pleasure is mine, Miss Alicia. Bazt's told me all about your latest accomplishments."
Margaret shook Alicia's hand enthusiastically.
Alicia had once been Margaret's apprentice during her rookie days. Back then, Margaret wasn't as famous as now, but her magnetic presence had already made her stand out.
Alicia blushed slightly, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. She'd never admit it, but she loved compliments.
"I'm sure that once I retire, Alicia will be number one," Bazt added with a soft laugh.
Still, he couldn't help feeling a strange emptiness when he saw the empty case files. Lately, things had been too quiet.
"Well, since I'm here… look what I brought!"
Margaret opened the door again, revealing several boxes of donuts.
"Eat 'til you explode!"
Everyone's eyes lit up. Cliché or not, there wasn't a single officer who didn't love donuts.
"Ahhh! He's dead!"
The moment of joy was cut short by a scream from the street.
"I'll handle it."
Bazt leapt through the window, landing on the pavement with elegance and precision.
As a former serial killer, he had developed impressive physical skills to avoid capture.
"Well, well… looks like we've got a case today," he muttered, stepping toward the body lying inside a large garbage bag.
"I-I just wanted to throw away my trash! I swear I don't know anything!"
The woman who discovered the body was trembling and crying.
It was a grotesque sight. The victim's fingers were half-severed, his teeth yanked out—but his clothes were perfectly clean.
Margaret and the other officers arrived and flinched at the scene.
But Bazt's reaction was different—a rush of satisfaction surged through him.
A sullen, twisted smile formed on his lips, one he had to hide behind his hand.
"Looks like things just got interesting."
Just from seeing the body, Bazt could tell: this was the work of a clever criminal. And that made the chase all the more fun.
"Alright, clear the area and stay calm! Justice will handle this," Margaret announced, slipping on gloves and a mask.
It was time to investigate.
***
"His name was Wally Humberman."
[Age: 34]
[Married]
[Known for gambling and alcoholism.]
"Alright, team, that's all we know about the victim. Everything points to a debt-related murder."
The investigation had begun. Alicia briefed the team inside the meeting room.
"Hmm, yeah, that makes sense. So we start there, right?"
All eyes turned to Bazt, who was calmly sipping coffee.
"Ah, sorry. Actually, I have another theory—but I'd rather confirm it first."
That was a lie. Bazt wanted to investigate the case solo.
The feeling he had when he saw the victim's body told him one thing:
He had to catch this one himself.
"Alright, everyone. Start with the casinos. Margaret and Bazt, follow up on alternate leads."
With that, the group split up. Bazt and Margaret headed to their car.
"Babe, we're thinking the same thing, right?" Margaret asked, wrapping her arms around him.
"Yeah. Primary suspect's the wife." Bazt replied, starting the engine.
The victim's clothes were far too clean for such a brutal death. Two options:
[One: The killer redressed the body to leave a false impression.]
[Two: The victim was tortured in his own home.]
Bazt leaned toward the second.
"Here we are."
Ternera Street, Apartment 145. A lower-class area known for its criminal leanings.
The very air reeked of fear. But to Bazt and Margaret, it was just another stroll.
They entered the building and made their way to the victim's apartment.
"Good afternoon!"
Bazt knocked on the door. No one answered—despite clear sounds of movement inside.
Suddenly, the noise stopped.
"Shit!"
Margaret rushed to the window, her face turning serious.
A woman in worn clothes was sprinting away, clutching a briefcase.
She was running.