Noel groaned as he opened his eyes and got out of bed. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, heard the birds chirping outside, and saw the light reflecting through his cracked window. "Is morning here already? I just intended to take a quick snooze," he said as he stood up from bed and stretched his arms upwards.

With a small sigh, he looked down at his ruined shirt and said, "I should take a shower." However, Noel seems a little anxious, even when it comes to showering. He does not want to be taxed more for using the water, nor does he want the landlord to be mad at him for squandering it. He already resides in this run-down apartment without even adequate heating, cold water, or lighting.

He muttered, "Whatever," as he reached for an old towel and a fresh change of clothes. He entered the bathroom and turned on the water for the shower. "Later, I will address the landlords' grievances. It is what it is." After stripping off, he leaped into the chilly water. After a few minutes, he tried drying himself with the towel and changed into his new clothing after getting out and turning the water off.

He exited the restroom after running his fingers through his hair, which was still somewhat damp. He piled his soiled garments into a tiny mound, thinking he would take care of them later. He went to get his painting equipment and went to the door. As he opened the door and prepared to go, he told himself, "Another frigid day of painting." Well, if someone's pecks weren't in the way, he would have departed by now.

Without checking what was in front of him, Noel hurriedly opened the door, dashed outside, and collided with something both soft and hard at the same time. Something was staring down at him when he looked up—a bear. Noel could not help but think, 'This man is a gigantic bear,' wearing a slightly worried expression.

With a swift movement, Noel moved away from the tall, muscular man and promptly apologized to him. The man answered in a low voice, "It is fine." Noel gave the man a good look and found himself staring for a while. The man appears to be wearing detective attire, and the buttons on his chest appear to be loosely attached. His eyes reminded Noel of the azure waters of the Pacific, and his disheveled hair reached his shoulders, matching the hue of the sun.

The man looked distant and unapproachable because of his icy gaze. Noel forgot the man was talking because he was staring at him intently. "Pardon me. Can you say that again?" When the man finished daydreaming, Noel questioned. The man speaks in a rough voice, "I am simply asking individuals a few questions and wondering if I may take some of your time."

Noel was a little uneasy because, well, a bear-like detective wanted to ask him some questions. And Noel is certain that those inquiries are related to yesterday's corpse. He will merely appear suspicious if he says no. especially since one of the policemen described painting all over his body while he was carrying his art supplies.

Noel just mustered a grin to greet the man. He nodded in response, saying, "Of course." Let's have a conversation. The man walked straight into his apartment room before he could even finish speaking. The man entered the building without being asked, and Noel thought to himself, 'Rude, "You do not have to act haughty just because you are attractive physically!' Although Noel was dying to yell at him, he forced himself to calm down and hold back.

Noel sarcastically remarked, "Or come on in and make yourself comfortable." However, it appeared like the man was completely unaware that Noel was being ironic. "I appreciate it," the man murmured, taking a seat on the room's couch. 'Did he not understand my irony?' Noel pondered while seated in front of the man. He tells Noel, "I would like to know each other's names before I start asking questions."

"I will take the lead," The man remarks, I go by Vincent Porter. As a detective, I have been investigating the numerous killings that have been occurring regularly." Noel nodded. 'So his name is Vincent.' Although he did not say so, he thought the name was good. "Mr. Porter, it is nice to meet you. My name is Noel Auclair," said Noel, introducing himself. "Mr. Auclair, nice to meet you as well."

Stillness. Noel claims there is an awkward silence hanging in the air. At last, Vincent speaks up: "It does not appear that you were born here. Your accent is unique as well." Noel just crosses his arms as he replies, "I was not raised here in London; I was not born here. Asia is where I was born." Vincent simply nods in agreement when he says this.

Looking at the several canvases on the walls and the painting supplies Noel is still holding, Vincent remarks, "I see that you like to paint." As he begins to feel uneasy, Noel explains, "I do it as a hobby."

"Is that accurate? I was informed by a police officer that the corpse had paint on it. I overheard someone talking about a certain someone who enjoys painting people for free when I was asking around." Vincent uses an extremely harsh tone when saying it.

"What do you mean to say?" Noel, who was becoming even more irritated than before, questioned, "Mr. Auclair, there is no need to take offense. Noel hears Vincent say, "I am not pointing any fingers," but he is not at all at ease. Although he was involved in the killings, it was never pleasant to be accused of anything. "On January 2nd, at 9:30 p.m., where were you?" At last, Vincent poses a question to him.

Without hesitation, Noel replied, "I was at home," to his question. "At home, were you?" Again, Vincent asks. Naturally, Noel made certain that the occupants of this apartment were aware that he was at home. "Yes. Everyone in this apartment, including the landlord, knew that I was here that night," Noel remarked in an uninteresting voice.

Noel could not read Vincent's expression as he simply stared at him. Though Noel is unsure of Vincent's exact thoughts, his expression gives the impression that he is furious and distant. "Is that right?" After a few minutes of silence, Vincent eventually said. But as Noel heard Vincent speak, a chill went down his spine. Does this mean he is uncomfortable? Does he feel anxious? Perhaps he is fearful.

At last, Vincent got to his feet, moved to the door, and pulled it open. Vincent said, "We will meet again, Mr. Auclair," and left the room after giving Noel one more glance. Finally, the man is gone, and Noel lets out a breath of relief and allows all his muscles to relax. "I must use extreme caution. He knows very little about what I do and is immediately wary of me. I hope we do not cross paths with one another once more."

Noel asks himself, "Should I simply stay at home today?" as he fixes his gaze on the ceiling. But he only shook his head and got up from the chair. He grabbed his art equipment and proceeded to get some bread, saying, "I will simply go outside anyhow. What other possible events are there for today?" He asks himself. If only Noel had known what lay ahead of him in the immediate future.