"Hey Walid, wake up."
"Waaaalid!"
Walid jerked upright, startled.
"Wha—what? Why are you screaming like that?"
The class burst into laughter.
Bappi grinned. "Because you're in class, you dummy!"
Walid groaned.
"Aw, man. I was having such a nice dream…"
He stood up sheepishly and bowed to the teacher.
"Sorry, sir."
The teacher crossed his arms and raised a brow.
"Was my history lecture so boring that it lulled you to sleep in my class?"
The entire class shouted out in unison.
"No sir!"
"No, sir," Walid quickly added.
"I just didn't sleep properly last night. It's not your fault, it's mine."
The teacher's face twisted.
"Kids like you are a disgrace. I hate students who treat learning like a joke."
Bappi frowned.
"Come on, sir. He was just tired. It's not like he meant to disrespect you. Can't you forgive him?"
The teacher snapped.
"Get up."
"Who? Me?"
"Yes, you—the one who always acts cool."
Bappi groaned and stood up reluctantly.
"Ah, come on…"
The teacher pointed toward the door.
"Both of you disturbed my class. Get out. Stand outside until the period ends. If either of you walks off, you'll face harsher punishment."
"We didn't even do anything!" Bappi muttered.
"You're overreacting."
"GET. OUT!" the teacher roared.
A wave of awkward silence swept through the room.
Someone whispered, "Just go already…"
They left.
Outside the classroom.
Walid sighed.
"What is wrong with that guy?"
"Shh, don't talk so loud. He might hear us," Bappi whispered.
"Still… don't you think he's acting strange?"
"He's always like this, man."
Walid shook his head.
"No, today felt different. Maybe I never noticed it because I've never fallen asleep in his class before."
"Yeah… He was weirder than usual today. Maybe he had a rough morning."
Walid narrowed his eyes.
"What if he's involved in the case?"
"Shut up, Walid. He might hear us."
"Stop whispering out there! It's annoying," the teacher snapped from inside.
"Sorry!" Walid called back quickly.
Bappi sighed.
"No more talking. Let's wait till lunch."
Tick. Tock.
Lunch bell rang.
"Phewwww!"
Bappi leaned against the wall.
"Dude, don't say things like that in public. That's dangerous."
"Alright, alright. I get it. I won't do it again."
"Still… you might not be totally wrong. After all, we trusted Rahul—and look what he did. Backstabbed us."
"Exactly. This teacher… he was unusually aggressive today. Shouldn't we at least investigate?"
"We will. But let's do it ourselves first. Only call Detective Tihsan if we find something solid."
Elsewhere. A dislocated, shady corner of the city.
Parvej stepped out of his car and glanced around in distaste.
"Why would someone as rich as her live in a place like this?" he muttered.
"At least the restaurant looks fancy, even if the neighborhood is trash."
Parvej—operative for the mysterious man known only as "Master"—was here to meet a client. The one who'd placed the unusual order. Unknown to him, the client was Blizzard, a detective in disguise and close ally of Detective Tihsan. The entire meeting was part of a plan to infiltrate "The Devour"—an online cult trafficking in human meat and organ trade across the continent.
Blizzard had made her move, ordering a "special item" from the dark web to bait the cult's members. Parvej had taken it. And now, he was about to meet her.
He glanced at his watch.
"How much longer do I have to wait for her?" he muttered.
"I hate women. They're only good when they're dead—served on a plate."
A voice interrupted him.
"Hey… are you Parvej?"
He turned. His eyes lit up.
"Damn. You're hot."
"Excuse me?"
He cleared his throat.
"Ah, sorry. Don't mind me. Yes, I'm Parvej. You must be Blizzard?"
"I am. Nice to meet you."
They shook hands.
"Likewise," Parvej said.
"Sorry for the wait. I've booked a private room for us to talk."
"Sounds good. Lead the way."
Inside the private room.
They sat across from each other.
"So," Parvej smiled.
"How have you been?"
Blizzard smiled back.
"I'm doing well. What about my order—is it in good condition?"
"Yes, your parcel is well-fed. We want to serve it in peak condition."
"Great. I hope the body's still in shape."
Parvej leaned forward slightly.
"You already know why I asked for this meeting, don't you?"
"Not exactly," she replied.
"But I can guess."
"We're curious how you found our website. It's not exactly… public."
"I stumbled onto it while exploring the dark web. It was pure accident. As for membership—I paid for it."
Parvej squinted.
"And what do you do for money?"
"Investments. Casinos. I've got crazy good luck."
"No job?"
She shrugged.
"My father was rich. I've been wealthy my whole life."
Parvej tapped his fingers on the table.
"What's your opinion on eating human meat?"
Blizzard didn't flinch.
"All animals are equal. If we eat chicken and cows, why not humans? I've wanted to try it since I was a kid. My parents died early, so I've lived alone, indulging every craving."
Parvej grinned.
"So you prefer human meat to others?"
"Of course. It's rare. Hard to find. That makes it… special."
She leaned in, voice low.
"Sometimes I dream of farms—like chicken farms—but for humans. Raised solely for consumption. The world is disgusting. I hope it changes someday. Though… I won't live to see it."
Parvej laughed.
"Hahaha, I wish for that too. Let's stop with the questions for now. Shall we order food?"
He called the waiter and gave the order.
Blizzard sipped her water.
"You know… weren't you being a little careless today?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Meeting me in person. What if I were law enforcement? You'd have put your entire cult at risk."
Parvej chuckled.
"Faith, miss. Sometimes, you have to trust. Or else the world stops spinning."
"You're brave—or foolish. Which is it?"
He leaned back.
"I wasn't being careless. I'm not even a big member of the organization. I work under someone far more important. I'm just here to test you. See if you're genuine."
He smiled.
"Seems like I can trust you."
"So you have a boss?"
"Of course. He's the one who sent me here. Didn't want to risk himself. And for good reason."
He tapped his chest.
"I'm a skilled spy. Even if I get captured, tortured… I won't say a word. That's how much he trusts me."
"Impressive," Blizzard whispered.
"Ah, the waiter's coming. Let's stop talking."
Outside the restaurant.
Detective Tihsan sat in a surveillance van, earpiece crackling with every word from the recorder inside Blizzard's jacket.
"Tch. I knew he wasn't the boss," Tihsan muttered.
"The real leader wouldn't be this reckless. This guy's just a pawn. Useless. We wait."
After the meal.
Parvej and Blizzard exited the restaurant.
"I'll message you tomorrow," he said.
"Need to speak to my boss first. Thanks for your time. Goodbye."
"It was a pleasure," Blizzard replied.
"Take care."
She turned the corner and sighed.
"He's gone, Tihsan. You can stop pretending now."
The detective stepped out of the shadows, frowning.
"Another day wasted. He's not the one we're after."
Blizzard nodded.
"At first, I thought he was. But he's just a gatekeeper."
She looked up at the night sky.
"I wonder what their real leader is like…"
A shiver ran down her spine.
"He must be terrifying."