Arvin walked up to the flaming corpse, the creature's body already falling apart. Its eyes rolled back, but before a number could be engraved, they burned away like matches.
He sighed, watching the deformed body turn to ash.
"What a pity. Couldn't even track his artifact."
Before he could dwell on it, Chessie tapped his shoulder.
"Not now, boss! We gotta go!"
Arvin looked up, remembering the task at hand.
"Right… and good work, Chessie."
He brushed the dirt from his clothes, then opened the revolver's barrel. Only one bullet remained. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out five golden rounds and slipped them into place with care before flicking the barrel shut. His eyes lifted toward the dark sky.
"Man, I wish I had my cane right now."
With the mist still guiding them, Arvin and Chessie followed the path out of the forest.
Five hours later.
The morning sun was climbing higher, casting gold over the sea near Gita. In the lower district, Arvin and Chessie sat in a dining hall overlooking the ocean. The air smelled of salt and fresh bread. Families ate at polished oak tables while workers moved quickly about, keeping the atmosphere alive but orderly.
The room's dark wood floors gleamed with wealth. Seashell engravings caught the morning light along the walls. High-backed chairs with red designs surrounded the tables, and beside them, tall windows opened to a vast stretch of blue ocean.
Arvin nursed a cup of coffee, his voice hoarse as he finally spoke.
"Halfway through the forest, the footprints ended. He could've gone to Gita or around it, but a killer would be a fool to stay in the trees. We have no solid trace. Might have to extend the search."
Chessie leaned back in her chair, arms raised lazily.
"Well, you already asked most folks in town. None of them saw anyone come in."
Arvin rubbed his jaw in thought.
"True. But if the killer showed himself in public, there's one place he couldn't avoid, he'd need a bed. A hotel."
Her eyes lit up.
"You're so right, boss! Gita only has two hotels. One of them's just down the block!"
Arvin chuckled faintly, then stood.
"Then let's start there."
They left the diner and made their way down the street until a building came into view.
Central Hotel.
It stood two stories tall, built of red brick, iron fences circling its lot. Seashells lined the walkway, and tall windows stretched across both floors. A heavy brown door with a glass window welcomed them inside.
DING.
The lobby walls were the same rich brick, the floors patterned wood. Bushes sat in the corners, benches against the walls. On either side stretched long hallways lined with doors. Ahead was a polished desk, stacked with papers and pens, where a tall receptionist stood. She wore her hair in a neat bun, her blouse cream and her skirt dark, a dazzling smile fixed in place.
"Welcome. Care to check in for a room?"
Arvin stepped forward, pulling a golden-brown badge from his pocket.
"Detective of Koburn. May I review the check-in records?"
The woman's eyes widened. She scrambled for a thin piece of paper and handed it over. Names and times filled the list.
Arvin scanned it carefully until two entries caught his eye:
7:07 a.m., Room 15 — Sydney Yacupaico
7:17 a.m., Room 16 — Zoa Malqui
He studied the sheet a moment longer, then returned it.
"These two fit the timeframe. Everyone else checked in yesterday or earlier."
Turning back, he addressed the receptionist.
"Ma'am, I'll need to investigate rooms 15 and 16."
The woman stuttered, then gave a nervous nod.
"Thank you," Arvin said, bowing his head politely before moving toward the hall.
Chessie grinned at him.
"You think you're right?"
He cleared his throat.
"Possibly. Let's find out."
The hallway was long, a dark red carpet trimmed with gold stretching the length of it. Each door was light brown with carved patterns, a golden number gleaming above.
At last they stopped before Room 15.
Arvin rapped gently on the door.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
After a pause, a voice called from inside, gentle but edged with roughness.
"Yes, yes, hold on, I'm coming!"
The door creaked open to reveal a short girl with long messy black hair and hazel eyes that sparkled against her tired face. A colorful poncho draped over her shoulders, and a dull white pollera reached her knees. On her feet were simple white sandals.
Sydney Yacupaico.