Medical Center.
Late at Night.
Parking Lot.
"We're heading out," Juno said with a grin, glancing at the blonde woman whose vibe seemed off. She shot Adam a knowing look before walking off with Karen.
Adam felt a wave of relief wash over him. Juno's look had basically said: "Really? You're not seriously pulling this card, are you? Trying to get me to cover for you with Heather over some chick throwing herself at you?"
Clearly, compared to Adam, Juno's gut reaction to the blonde was: freebie alert. And that eased Adam's mind. He trusted Juno's sharp instincts—especially since she didn't have any bias toward this woman.
"Hey there, and you are…?" Adam asked with a smile, turning to the blonde after watching Juno and Karen leave.
"Sandra Plensky," she replied, her tone carrying a hint of self-mocking frustration. "A third-rate reporter from the Horn Daily. I was wondering if the famous Dr. Duncan might spare me a chance for an exclusive interview? I've been waiting here for three days."
"The Horn Daily's a pretty big deal," Adam chuckled. "No such thing as a third-rate reporter there. Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, though. You probably heard—the surgeries for the cruise ship victims only wrapped up tonight. I haven't left the operating room in three days."
"How'd the surgeries go?" the young, rookie version of "Widow" asked, flipping open her notepad and slipping into work mode.
"We saved most of them," Adam said, shaking his head. "But some injuries were just too severe…"
"That's such a shame," Sandra replied. "Have they confirmed the final death toll yet?"
"As of now, 87," Adam answered.
She pressed for more details, then smoothly shifted from the cruise incident to a personal interview with Adam. Standing there by his car in the parking lot, it didn't exactly scream femme fatale trying to seduce him. For a moment, Adam even thought he'd overreacted.
Sure, this younger, greener Widow was pretty tempting, but caution won out. He decided to give her a few vague answers and bounce. After all, her reputation preceded her, and his supercar wasn't a bus—he wasn't looking to pick up unnecessary trouble. 😅
"Dr. Duncan, what made you abandon your early path as a writer to become a doctor?" Sandra asked.
"Writing was just a passing hobby," Adam said with a smile. "Being a doctor's been my dream since I was a kid."
"Oh, really?" Her tone sharpened, dripping with skepticism. "I thought maybe it was guilt eating at you. You know, after realizing your novel Lord of Mysteries had some pretty nasty ripple effects. Maybe you picked medicine to ease your conscience by saving lives."
"What are you talking about?" Adam's eyes narrowed.
"Lord of Mysteries is full of unspeakable evil gods," Sandra said, locking eyes with him. "And all those shadowy organizations—like the Tarot Club. That serial killer in England the past two years, the one with the tarot cards—you're telling me that's got nothing to do with your book?"
"Sandra Plensky… you're that reporter!" Adam suddenly pieced it together.
"That's right, it's me!" Sandra puffed up with pride, practically beaming now that he'd placed her. "Looks like you do care. Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered digging into news from across the ocean—or remembered my name."
"If someone dragged your name through the mud for no reason, wouldn't you want to figure out what the hell was going on?" Adam shook his head.
"So you think you're innocent?" Sandra laughed, her voice thick with sarcasm.
"Of course," Adam said firmly. "First off, the unspeakable evil gods in Lord of Mysteries aren't even my invention—they're borrowed from the Cthulhu Mythos. Second, the Tarot Club in the book is a force for justice, not evil. And tarot cards? They're just tools for fortune-tellers. If you can pin this on me, then should we suspect every street-corner psychic and ban them from using tarot decks too?
"Someone makes a kitchen knife so people can cook. If a guy uses it to stab someone, is it the knife-maker's fault for getting creative? Don't you think that's a stretch?"
Lord of Mysteries had blown up over the years, raking in billions for Adam. But in the freewheeling soil of this TV-drama world, as its influence grew, some weird stuff sprouted—stuff that didn't exist in the original timeline.
Take this "Tarot Card Serial Killer" from England two years back. The guy targeted prostitutes and their clients in the red-light district, but somehow twisted it to mimic the official Tarot Club members from Adam's book.
The first victim was a working girl. When they found her body, she was dressed in a black classical robe covered in symbolic patterns and magical markings—most notably, a mysterious eye with no eyelashes. She held the Hermit tarot card, posed with her arms around her knees, staring out into the distance (through a window). Scrawled in red on the glass: "God is the only deity, untouchable!"
Anyone who'd read Lord of Mysteries could instantly connect the dots: she'd been styled as Admiral of the Stars, Hermit Cattleya.
The second victim was a client. His hair dyed black and combed back, red contacts in his eyes, holding two little doll girls in his hands, his gaze lingering with longing. On the table where his eyes pointed, the same red message: "God is the only deity, untouchable!"
Over the next two years, the killer cosplayed them all with his victims: Star Leonard, Judgment Hugh Dilcha, Magician Forsi Wall, Sun Derrick Berg, Hanged Man Alger… the whole crew, courtesy of prostitutes and johns.
It caused a huge stir at first. But then it took a bizarre turn.
This Tarot Card Serial Killer—despite only targeting the red-light crowd—went out of his way to pick victims he thought matched the Lord of Mysteries vibe. The costumes were meticulous too. Some twisted folks ignored the horror of serial murder and started raving about the "artistic beauty" of his work, even hyping up who'd be next—Justice Audrey being the fan favorite.
As the "author," Adam faced insane pressure back then. After publishing Volume 8, The Fool, he announced he was done with Lord of Mysteries. To the public, The Fool's shorter word count compared to the other volumes was proof he'd buckled under the heat and rushed the ending. Cheers and disappointed sighs came in equal measure.
A few months ago, Justice Audrey finally got her cosplay moment. But the twisted fans weren't impressed—claiming the victim didn't have Audrey's "aura." They insisted it was a copycat.
And wouldn't you know it, they were right.
The one who cracked the case wide open? None other than the rookie reporter standing in front of him: Sandra Plensky!
(End of Chapter)