R sat upright at the desk, fingers lifting a coffee cup to his lips. He watched the man across from him with narrowed, polite eyes — the kind that looked calm on the surface but carried a quiet authority beneath. Piza inclined his head with a practiced little bow, the familiarity between them obvious but not equal.
"Good evening," Piza said.
R gave a small nod. His voice was even. "How' s it there?"
"Good. Plenty of money," Piza answered simply, smile twitching at the corners as if enjoying being in front of someone special.
"You' ve had a rough patch lately. That' s why you came to fetch your—fiancé?" R' s tone was casual, but the barbs under it were sharp.
Piza let the remark slide with an easy laugh. "Had to lift my nose a little, you know. Oh—about that Yuu fellow, is he the one who took the money?"
"No."
"Wrong guess, huh." Piza' s smile turned amused.
R tipped the cup, watching the coffee ripple. There was a glint in his eyes beneath the surface — composed, enticing in a way that made Piza shift slightly in his seat.
"Who could be the thief, I wonder? Even you can' t find them." R said it lightly, but the implication hung there.
Silence stretched for a beat as the two regarded each other. The café around them felt empty; it was as if the world had narrowed to the two men and the unspoken things between them.
"The game' s hard," Piza admitted finally, "but it' s fun."
"What are the old congressman' s men saying? That the tribute' s late because of the missing funds?" R asked.
"Be careful," R replied. "When money goes missing from people who live off it, they do desperate things. They won' t give up their positions that line their pockets without a fight."
Piza met that gravity with a small nod. "And if they miss the deadline?"
"Then others will suffer. I don' t make things easy for my own people to live at the expense of others." R' s voice stayed steady, measured.
"And what about our engagement?" Piza pressed.
R set the cup down deliberately and fixed Piza with a hard look. Piza' s face shifted; this was no small thing. Everything R did, every careful movement, made it clear that 'forgotten' was not a trivial matter.
"You seem tense. Do something to calm down, perhaps something you enjoy?"
"I enjoy work. It' s like a game — hunt one, pin another. It' s entertaining."
Piza' s tone faltered. "So when are we going to settle our arrangement? You' ve postponed it for months. Our family' s business depends on this alliance."
"Postpone it," R answered.
Piza' s smile tightened. "If I catch the thief, will you marry me?"
"First catch the money trail," R said, as if that were all there was to say.
R sat upright at the table, slender fingers lifting a cup of coffee to his lips. His sharp eyes narrowed at the man across from him—the same man who had just gone to see another officer. That officer happened to be his ex.
"Good evening."
R gave a small nod, his tone even, gaze calm yet carrying an undercurrent of authority. The familiarity between them was evident, though not equal. Each time Peza spoke to the inspector, his head dipped slightly, a subtle show of deference.
"How was it over there?"
"Not bad. Plenty of money."
The casual reply came with a grin, an ease that contrasted with the gravity in R' s demeanor. Peza seemed almost delighted just to be sitting in front of him—someone special, unlike anyone else.
"Things haven' t been so smooth lately, have they? Calling your fiancé in to help."
"Just as you see—sometimes I have to borrow a nose to breathe. By the way, about Lieutenant Yuu… was he the one who took the money?"
"No."
"Ah, wrong guess then."
R tilted his head slightly. Light caught the rim of his cup, his sharp eyes glinting with a sly allure.
"So who' s the thief, then? Even you haven' t found him yet."
The inspector didn' t answer. He simply lifted the cup again with his usual elegant poise. For a fleeting second, his gaze and steady breath pulled Peza in like a magnetic field—almost enough to break his composure.
"This game' s tougher than I thought… but entertaining."
"And the ex-MP? What' s his take on the missing payments?"
R' s voice was calm but firm. "Be careful. When assets keep getting seized, a man might do something desperate. These people won' t let go of positions that make them this much money."
The words hung in the quiet, heavy with warning. The restaurant was empty—not by chance, but by design.
"And if the deadline passes?"
"Others need money too. Why should my people suffer while someone else gets off easy? That' s never been my way."
"…And what about our engagement?"
"Oh, right. I' d almost forgotten."
"Forgotten? You, of all people, forgot something that important?"
R set his cup down with deliberate stillness, his sharp eyes locking onto Peza. The word forgot from him was never trivial. Every movement, every silence carried weight.
"You seem restless. Maybe you should find something you enjoy."
"I do. I enjoy my work. It' s like a game of chase—catching one target after another. Always exciting."
"And when will you finally deal with us? You' ve been putting it off for months. My family' s business depends on this alliance."
"Later."
"…If I catch the thief, will you marry me then?"
"Go chase the scent of money first."
The clink of a spoon against a plate rang out in the lavishly lit restaurant, chandeliers scattering light across polished glass.
Reya scowled, tossing his spoon down. "Five-star Michelin food… tastes like crap." He slouched back in his chair, boredom written all over his face.
Pyramid folded his arms, lifting a glass lazily. "You' re picky, Rey." His tone carried irritation, but the sip of whiskey softened it.
"I' d rather have fried chicken my girl ordered me," Rey muttered, eyes dim, voice heavy with longing.
Rome smirked. "Girl, huh?"
Pyramid shot him a sharp look. "Who' s that, Rey? Some lucky girl of yours?"
Versailles raised a brow from the head of the table. "Didn' t you say you were single?"
Rome cut in with a sly grin. "Been apart a month—maybe she' s with Lieutenant Yuu now."
Versailles nodded. "Right, Pyramid?"
Pyramid choked on his drink, coughing hard. "H-how should I know? I' m not— we' re not even—!"
Reya smirked, lips curling. "You look guilty as hell."
Thwack!
Three hands smacked his head in unison.
"Suspicious!"
Reya burst out laughing for the first time in weeks. "Thanks for backing me up, guys—ha ha ha!"
Rome leaned back, eyeing him like a predator. "Talking about the cop' s girl… Rey, you horny or what?"
Reya rubbed his temple with a groan. "…Yeah."
Versailles slapped the table, cackling. "No need to sugarcoat it. So what, gonna grind on a lamppost?"
Rome leaned forward, grin widening. "Move on. Let' s hit a gay bar—get some top-shelf boys to sit on either side."
Reya shook his head hard. "It' s not the same."
Pyramid rolled his eyes. "Tsk. Act tough with everyone else, but with that cop' s boy you' re like a damn puppy."
BANG!
Rome stood, smirking. "Come on, Rey!"
Reya' s voice dropped low. "…Ever since I left R, I jerk off every night. Can' t get in the mood for anyone else."
The table went silent for a beat—before Versailles cursed, pulling out his phone with a wicked grin. "Damn, you' re pathetic. Fine, I' ll call a friend."
"…What are you, a pimp now?"
Versailles grinned, scrolling. "Not a pimp. People, not ducks."
Reya shot back instantly, "Duck is your face, jackass."
Versailles chuckled darkly. "Got it. Eden 888. We going? Same car or separate?"
Reya arched a brow. "…Is that a gay bar or a casino?"
Rome laughed. "Let' s go see for ourselves."
The teasing and laughter spilled over, dragging Reya out of his sulk. Between shoves and jabs, they piled into cars headed for Eden 888, neon lights of the city glowing like a hollow dream outside the windows.