“Is everyone sure they didn’t take the pill?” Phil broke the silence. After a chorus of responses, Phil told everyone to bring all their pill supplies and meet at the office in the afternoon.

“It can’t be them. All they’d done is push each other into the river,” Dylan remarked as soon as the two were left alone.

“I know. But always better to go through the standard processes. I don’t want Marina to tell me off for ‘slacking’.”

“That women’s scary. Smart, but scary. Ever since she got here, I felt she’s basically running the entire office. No, she is the office.” Phil nods at the comment.

Outside, the marketplace was already roaring with life. Rich fragrances of spice, vegetable, and warm beverages floated amidst the air. The folks of Dranem zoomed in and out of view, unaware of the horrendous crime that occurred just meters away. The clinking of beer bottles, the tapping of heels on the cobbled-ground, and the bellowing of stall owners mended into what was the marketplace, debatably the center of town, according to anyone who likes fresh vegetables.

Dylan turned to Phil, “Where are we going now?”

“Marina’s place then the office.”

“The Pill’s Registration Forms are in the office, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if Marina kept that too.”

“The forms are in the office, but we’ll check in with Marina first.”

Walking side-by-side, Dylan felt oddly comforting. The buzz of the marketplace distanced. He glanced at Phil, suddenly noticing how they were almost the same height now. Few years ago, he would look up at his father and only see the beard springing out of Phil’s chin. Right now, Phil’s green eyes focused on the road, but they still radiated warmth, like cotton blankets in winter.

Dylan loved those eyes. So much so that young Dylan pouted, whined and cried until Phil picked up and carried him, just so he could play with Phil’s face and poke at the eyes. Dylan didn’t remember that, but Phil teased him about it endless times to the point it wouldn’t make sense if Phil made it up.

Dylan and Phil approached Marina’s house, a 2-story apartment smothered between the office and Speeds Breads. Dylan poked his head to look into the office as they strutted by. As expected, five of the officers slept, tangled up with each other on the matted floor, making a yarn ball out of the knotted arms and legs. Over the other end of the office, a man wrote on his reports languidly, craving words out of stone rather than paper. Through the glass, Dylan watched as the officer’s head drooped down, only to jerk back up again, going through a painful cycle.

Dylan assumed it was late-night work Marina ordered. She expected everyone to follow her no-sleep schedule, Phil and the other senior officers already restrained her demands, it seemed not enough to avoid catastrophe.

Letters and notes fallen from the clue boards like leaves in the autumn wind. Rather than documents and books, bottles of unnamed beverages and even more coffee piled on the office tables. The place felt like a robbed bank. The only lively object being the front doorbell, which makes a shrieking sound every time a blow of wind visits.

“Dylan, you’ll be in the office soon enough. Just follow me for now.” Phil mused as he peeked into the office, examining the chaos, “You know what, you can go find Marina. I’ll get them to clear up the mess.”

“Are you sure? I’ve never been to Marina’s alone. What if I run into her making mass weapons of extinction?”

“You’ll be fine. See you later.”

“But…” Dylan aborted his plans of persuading Phil as his father sprinted away and slammed open the office door. The pile of sleeping officers jolted up and the doorbell wailed like an infant arising from their sleep.

Dylan huffed a breath, and trudged to Marina’s front door, thinking about what he was going to say. He thought over the rehearsed speech he was going to give one last time before knocking.

Moments later, Marina opened the door, dressed in uniform with her raven hair tied back into a bun. Black-framed glasses perched on her nose. Marina’s predatory stare turned to puzzlement as she noticed her visitor. She concealed her emotions a second later with a plastered and professional smile, not that Dylan noticed.

“Hi kiddo. Any chance of Phil with you?”

“No, it’s just me, but trust me, I can report everything.” Dylan straightened his back, hoping Marina can let him in.

“Alright then,” Marina led Dylan into the living room, black minimalist. They room reeked of old money, from the black leather couch to the gold-lined designer desk. She gestured him to sit.

The curtains are drawn, the only light source is a pale-yellow glow from the lamp. It casted an unhuman shadow over Marina as she leaned against the raven-colored wall. Her eyes trailed Dylan up and down, evaluating and observing.

“I already heard about the death. How are you feeling about it?” Marina spoke in monotone, words coming out of her mouth like a repeater, designed meticulously.

“Jen well …… she was close to me, so I am determined to find out everything behind this. And stop whatever evil is beneath it.” Dylan slowed his pace down, deliberately thinking over his words and choosing to answer the safe way. He learned the hard way before that emotions and feels never settled well with Marina.

“What did you find out?”

Sensing Dylan’s puzzled expression, Marina pauses before adding, “You and Phil wouldn’t come here so soon if there isn’t a breakthrough.”

This is the part he prepared for, Dylan launched into speech, “The murder is intentional. It only uses the break-in as a coverup. We’ve used the VAF to narrow down the suspects. It’s someone who has access to the pill.”

“Very well thought. No wonder your father insists to bring you along every case.” Dylan’s grinned sheepishly at the compliment. Marina isn’t one who hands out appreciation and compliments.

“Thanks,” Dylan mumbled, a bit flustered, “We need to head to the office now.”

“Alright kiddo.”

As Dylan and Marina neared the office, they noticed the streets were an eerie silence. Marina frowned slightly.

The doorbell wailed again. A dozen men and women dressed in formals populated the room. Dylan recognized a few people. Some guys present at Jen’s mansion loitered around the crowds, spreading theories and hyperbolized truths in a dramatic manner. The sleeping officers from before trudged their way, tripping over each other before securing a spot on the couch. Dylan observed years ago that the pills had an effect of making its user infinitely tired. The time period mirrors the time of the pill in effect, while the intensity depends on the reliance of the pill during that time. Judging by the officers’ lethargic state, they’d probably endured the typical trainings, jumping on rooftops and lifting cattle.

A redheaded boy pranced up to them, one of the few who seemed unstressed by the sudden notice. He took notice of Dylan before wiggling his way to him.

“Phil says you can wait at the lounge, and go to meeting room #3 if you want to find him,” Carlos supplied, gesturing upstairs. Personally, Dylan finds Carlos outspoken, gossipy and socially blunt. However, Marina seemed bent on making the duo work together, given their similar ages, so Dylan had to at least play nice.

“Thanks,” Dylan replied.

“Is this about the murder? It’s the only thing that happened in this town! In like, forever!” the boy’s voice dropped into a conspiratory whisper.

“Yeah, the murderer has access to the pill. We’re starting with the office and then the town halls.”

“Imagine if it’s one of those capital-sent officers. Maybe they were looking for revenge.” Dylan half thought he was joking before turning and noticing the guy deep in thought.

God, how many fiction books did he overdose?

“Doubt it, they’d find someone to do the dirty work for them,” the boy snorted in agreement, his eyebrows knotting more together. Dylan continued, murmuring under his breath, “they always do.”

“Carlos Watson. Repeating, Carlos Watson.” a frustrated and tired bellow echoed from upstairs.

“That’s me!” Carlos responded too cheerfully given the situation before skipping out of view.

At the lounge, officers came in and out of the room. Carlos joined Dylan a few minutes ago, flashing him a smile that Dylan knew meant everything went well for Carlos.

“What are they doing in there?” Dylan asked, gesturing to the meeting room Carlos hopped out of.

“Some senior officer checked my pill-taking records and my current number of pills.” Dylan nodded in realization, that was probably the best way. Carlos shrugged before continuing, “No idea why he did that, but apparently I was cleared.”

Dylan sighed, just when he thought the boy couldn’t get any less idiotic. Like a kindergarten teacher telling kids why they shouldn’t eat mud, Dylan explained to Carlos, “They’re checking to see if the number of pills you have is equal to the number of pills you claim to have. If you’re missing on one or two, there would be greater suspicion that you took the pill for personal uses, such as for a murder.”

“Honestly, this feels like a throw-in-the-dark.”

“I know, but there’s no other leads to follow-up on right now,” Dylan frowned, fidgeting with his sleeves, “we take what we can get. For Vigor-”

“For life,” Carlos finished the quote for him. It was the last sentence of the oath needed to become an officer. Younger Dylan thought it was a special kind of marriage vow exchanged only when the bride was office work.

“Wait, you took the oath too?”

Dylan grimaced, he explained Phil wasn’t letting him despite his age and competence. Carlos rocked back and forth gingerly, looking even more awkward than Dylan.

“We should check on their progress,” Carlos mumbled, articulating every word with hesitation, “see if we can help”

They reached the meeting room as a loud bang ringed. An officer slammed the door open, almost hitting Dylan’s nose. He rocketed out the room, leaped down the steps, and dashed for the office door.

From his peripheral vision, Dylan saw Carlos biting down onto the pill. Carlos’s eyes kindled with predatory light; his muscles grew bulked.

Looks like the chase is on, Dylan mused to himself as he prepared to sprint.