The rain kept falling.The sky was crying, but Greenhollow was laughing.
Neon lights reflected off the wet streets, turning the night into a fake daytime glow. Laughter spilled out of taverns, glasses clinked, cheerful songs drowned out the sound of rain.
The group walked down the main street. But something had changed. Hope, who usually walked at the front with confident strides, was now one step behind the others. His head was lowered, his hands buried in his pockets. The mark from Lypin's slap had faded from his cheek, but its echo still lingered in his soul.
Inefficient, he thought.Everything I did today was inefficient.
Inspector Conan led them through narrow side alleys, far from the reach of neon lights, to a run-down inn. Its wooden frame was rotting, its sign creaking as it swayed:
The Broken Goblet.
Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and cheap beer. A few elderly locals sat in corners, slurping soup from chipped bowls. The group took a table as the innkeeper approached, wiping it down with a filthy rag.
"Outsiders…" the innkeeper said casually. "We heard. That singer girl died."
Lypin looked up. Her eyes were still red."Yes," she said quietly. "It's horrible."
The innkeeper shrugged. "Shame. She had a nice voice." He sniffed, then added, "But honestly… she had it coming."
The table froze.
"What did you say?" Deniz growled, his voice dropping.
"She questioned her boss too much," the innkeeper replied as if discussing the weather. "And that youthful beauty of hers was fading. When she first debuted, everyone adored her. Lately? The shine was gone. This is Greenhollow, kid. When fruit starts to rot, you throw it away. Don't worry, someone fresher will take her place soon."
Lypin began to tremble.
As the innkeeper turned away, he muttered,"She knew this would happen anyway. She shouldn't have reached for things beyond her station. Should've kept her head down and stayed quiet for the boss."
The words vacuumed the air out of the room.
Lypin buried her face in her hands, struggling to suppress her sobs. Bianca clenched her teeth so hard her jaw muscles stood out. Deniz gripped the edge of the table, wood cracking beneath his fingers.
Hope simply watched the innkeeper walk away.
Illogical, he thought.Blaming the victim… That's like blaming gravity when a building collapses. The fault isn't gravity. It's the rotten structure.
Inspector Conan spread a map across the table and lit a cigarette.
"Welcome," he said, exhaling smoke. "This is the town's real face. Now stop mourning. If you want revenge, listen."
He pointed to a large, extravagant building on the map.
The Gilded Lily.
"Mina's boss," Conan said. "Name's Vargo. A fat, greedy leech who runs Greenhollow's entertainment industry. He ordered Mina's death. He provided the key."
"Let's go rip his head off," Deniz said, standing.
"Sit down," Conan snapped. "Vargo isn't stupid. His place is crawling with guards. And more importantly… he's just a pawn. If we kill him now, we'll never reach the real player. The Collector. We need proof. Ledgers. Connections."
Conan laid out the plan.
"Shadow team: Kai and Bianca. Rooftop entry. Use the ventilation shafts and find Vargo's private safe. We need that ledger."
Kai grinned from the shadows. "Stealing? My favorite."
"Main team: Me, Deniz, and the Architect. We go through the front door. Apply pressure. Make Vargo slip up. Lypin and Yaat provide support."
Conan turned to Hope.
"Listen, kid. Vargo's a merchant. Lying is his native language. Those strange eyes of yours… use them. Tell me what he's hiding."
Hope nodded. "Understood."
Thirty Minutes Later – The Gilded Lily
The club was suffocatingly hot despite the rain outside. Expensive perfume, sweat, and costly wine blended into a nauseating haze. Wealthy patrons lounged on velvet sofas, watching new girls on stage, replacements desperately trying to fill Mina's place.
Guards tried to stop Hope's group, but once Conan flashed his badge, they reluctantly allowed them into Vargo's office.
The office sat at the top of the building. The walls were covered with exotic animal hides. Vargo sat behind his desk exactly as described: a sweaty, obese man dripping with rings, his silk shirt stretched to its limit.
"Inspector!" Vargo said, struggling to stand. "And guests… what a terrible night! Our Mina… our beautiful angel…"
He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at fake tears.
"I'm devastated. Truly devastated. She was like a daughter to me."
Deniz tightened his grip on his sword hilt."He's lying."
Hope sat in the chair directly across from Vargo, locking eyes with him. Bianca had explained what a lie was to him. Painting over the truth. Plastering a crack.
Hope inhaled slowly. Green flames ignited in his pupils.
[Architect's Vision: Active][Mode: Biological Stress Analysis]
The world drained into black and white. But this time, Hope wasn't looking at walls. He was studying the muscles in Vargo's face.
Target: Vargo
Heart Rate: 110 bpm (Elevated)
Pupil Dilation: 40% (Fear/Anxiety)
Facial Muscles: Forced smile
Sweat Glands: Excessive activity in forehead
"You're not grieving," Hope said. His voice was flat, mechanical.
Vargo froze. Lowered the handkerchief."Excuse me?"
"Your biological data doesn't match sorrow," Hope replied. "Your pulse isn't the rhythm of someone who lost a loved one. It's the rhythm of a criminal afraid of being caught. Your facial muscles are straining to imitate grief. This is… poor engineering."
Vargo laughed, but his eyes didn't."What nonsense are you spouting, boy? I'm mourning!"
"Lie," Hope said, savoring the word like a child learning a new taste. "You're lying. You can repaint a building's facade, Mr. Vargo, but thermal cameras still see the fire inside."
Hope leaned forward.
"You terminated Mina's contract exactly two hours before her death. Why would a merchant discard a profitable asset? Unless that asset… no longer met the 'standards.'"
The color drained from Vargo's face.
In Hope's vision, the data went wild.
Heart Rate: 140 bpm (Panic)
Adrenaline: Peak
"How… how do you know that?" Vargo stammered.
Conan exhaled smoke."Don't lie to the Architect, Vargo. His eyes are special."
Hope picked up the expensive crystal decanter, examined it calmly, then dropped it.
CRASH.
"It broke," Hope said. "Just like your story. Now tell us the truth. Or the next thing that breaks will be your bones."
Vargo was drenched in sweat. His eyes darted toward the door.
"It's not my fault!" he screamed suddenly. "I had no choice! She was old! Twenty-two years old! Customers want freshness! And… and him…"
"Him?" Conan asked.
"The Collector!" Vargo cried, shaking. "He told me to silence her! Mina started sticking her nose where it didn't belong. She learned things she wasn't supposed to know! If I hadn't shut her up, the Collector would've taken me! Yes, I let that man in! But it was only supposed to scare her… it was meant to be clean!"
The confession had come.
Deniz drew his sword."You pig—"
Vargo slammed a button beneath his desk. Red alarm lights began flashing throughout the club.
"Guards!" Vargo screamed. "Kill them all! No one leaves alive!"
The office door was kicked open. A dozen armored men stormed in, wielding axes and bows. But the guards weren't the real problem.
Vargo grinned from behind his desk.
"You have no idea what it means to cross the Collector," he said, pulling out a black stone and crushing it.
Purple smoke erupted from the floor.
Through [Architect's Vision], Hope saw the guards' armor glow.
[Analysis: Magical Enhancement – Berserk Mode]
Their eyes turned red. Muscles swelled, warping their armor. They stopped being human, transforming into Vargo's obedient monsters.
Conan drew his weapon, a large revolver-like handgun."This is about to get messy."
Hope stood up and summoned his scythe.
He remembered Mina's body.He remembered Lypin's slap.He remembered Vargo's fake tears.
"No," Hope said as green flames engulfed his body."Only one thing happens here."
"…Destruction."