The wind stirred his coat as Luca stood beneath the stars, still as stone. He hadn't blinked in nearly a minute. Something about the night felt off, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for him to notice it.

His dark eyes traced the sky, unfocused. Despite the glow of golden streetlamps and the sound of laughter drifting down the avenue, none of it reached him. Still and distant, he barely belonged, his sharp eyes and black hair a quiet contrast to the freckled, fair faces passing by.

His eyes closed briefly, then lifted again to the dim-lit street.

With that he walked away, his shoes clicking against slick cobblestones that were still glistening from the drizzle, and stepped inside the familiar café.

This place steadied him, but it never answered him.

He came here out of habit now, more ritual than comfort.

Still, warmth and the scent of roasted coffee wrapped around him, familiar as a story he’d heard too many times.

The old man behind the counter looked up.

"Good evening. The usual?" the café owner asked.

"Yes. One black coffee without sugar."

With the cup in hand, Luca stepped back outside.

The door chimed softly behind him and the warmth clung to him for a moment, and slipped away, leaving only the quiet bite of the air pressing through his coat. He stood there a while, taking in the street.

Even the silence felt rehearsed tonight.

Across the road, a car waited.

Braun sat in the driver's seat, engine idling, headlights dim. He crossed over and slid into the passenger side.

Braun steered his car onto the street. The tires hummed softly against the pavement as he followed his usual route through the familiar neighbourhood.

Luca didn't speak. His mind was elsewhere, drawn into the pieces of a puzzle he hadn't yet solved. Several people had disappeared over the past six months and most left nothing behind.

But this one had. A single, handmade medal, misshapen and unmarked, was found on the floor of a locked apartment. No fingerprints. Just that strange object and a door locked from the inside.

"You take your time like an old man," Braun said, glancing over with a grin.

"Precision is never rushed." He said.

Braun snorted. "You and your poetic nonsense."

But he didn't answer, he was already deep in thought.

Braun watched him for a second, then broke the silence.

"You got any ideas?"

"...This situation presents a contradiction," Luca murmured, his gaze fixed beyond the windshield.

Braun raised an eyebrow. "A contradiction? How so?"

"The others vanished without a trace. But this time, something was left behind. That medal... it doesn't fit."

"You're saying it's staged?"

"No. A staged scene would be cleaner, more deliberate. This feels accidental, like we're seeing something not meant for us."

Braun let out a sigh, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Probably belonged to the victim. We don't have time to chase ghosts. Two more went missing last week."

Luca didn't blink. "Even a shadow," he said softly, "can point toward the light."

Braun gave a tired chuckle. "There you go again. You should get some rest. Don't forget you've got class in the morning."

"I'm aware," Luca replied, voice low.

Braun glanced at him. "Luca… why do you keep doing this?"

There was a pause.

"You're wasting yourself. All this shadow and smoke, what are you trying to prove?”

Luca looked down into his cup, watching the black surface ripple faintly with the motion of the car.

"No one ever found her," he said quietly.

Braun frowned. "Her?"

Luca shook his head. "Forget it."

"Hah… you're giving me more grey hairs, you know that?"

"I will… be more careful."

The car fell into silence again. The city faded behind them, streetlights giving way to the darker quiet of residential roads.

Braun pulled up in front of a six-story building, Luca's apartment. The windows glowed faintly behind drawn curtains.

Despite being a full-time medical student at a top university, Luca had taken a part-time job in investigations two years ago.

Back then, he'd changed his path for one thing, the chance to find her. So he went looking for Mr. Braun, who had once been looking for a partner in an investigation.

Luca stepped out of the car, still lost in thought. Braun watched him for a moment before calling out.

"Alright. Go upstairs and get some real sleep."

"I'll try."

Braun didn't push further.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon. We'll go over everything together, alright?"

"Understood, Mr. Braun," Luca replied with a slight nod.

Braun sighed again. "You know you can call me by my first name, right?"

Luca cracked the faintest smile. "It wouldn't suit you."

Braun laughed. "Fair enough. Good night, Luca."

"Good night, Mr. Braun."

The door closed with a soft thud, and the car pulled away into the quiet.

Luca stood on the sidewalk for a moment, staring up at the building like it might answer something. But his thoughts spun in circles, restless. Sleep felt distant, like something that belonged to someone else.

He climbed the stairs. The stairwell lights flickered overhead, casting faint shadows against concrete walls.

Inside, his apartment was still clean. A space that looked lived-in, but never alive. Every item had a place, no mess, and tidy.

He sat down at his desk and set the coffee beside a photo tucked beneath a paperweight. Three faces looked back at him, frozen in time but familiar. A girl with a bright smile in her twenties stood between two boys at the festival. One of them was him, a few years younger, with a hesitant grin.

He could still remember her voice, light, teasing, always pulling someone into laughter. But memory fades.

He never took any videos. Just that photo. One single, imperfect piece of her left.

And somehow, it wasn’t enough.

Braun's voice echoed in his memory.

‘You could be saving lives in a hospital. Why throw yourself into danger like this?’

Luca had never told him the full truth.

The bitter taste of coffee lingered on his tongue, grounding him, just like that photo always did. In memory and guilt.

He reached into the drawer, the one he'd promised himself he'd never open again.

Inside was a compact case with a stun gun, collapsible baton, handcuffs, and gloves.

Then he whispered softly, as if to someone long gone.

"... I will avenge you."

Before stepping out, he picked up his phone. Typed a message, brief, but informative. Something to send to Braun and the authorities, if things went wrong.

The city slept. But Luca stepped into the dark, as if something in it still belonged to him.

***

Luca pedaled through the silent streets, breath steady. The cold wind brushed his face, rare and gentle, a whisper in the night.

His objective was simple, but far from safe, return to the crime scene alone.

He had reviewed the patterns, the profiles. And this wasn’t random. The way the medal was left behind, it was deliberate. This was a message, and Luca suspected it was meant for him.

And he had already mapped out the risks, calculated every probable scenario, and every variation in response. Whoever had orchestrated the disappearances wasn't careless. But neither was Luca.

He arrived near a house located just beyond the dense residential area, parking his bike a short distance away to avoid any noise. There was no reason to give anyone a head start.

The front entrance was too obvious. Instead, he moved through the backyard, where the fence was low and shadowed.

They would expect the front door. That's what the police would do.

But Luca was far from ordinary.

He relied on criminal psychology, anticipating his opponents' assumptions and shaping his plans around their expectations.

He knelt beside the window he had quietly unlocked earlier that day, one precaution among many. He had known there might be something more. The memory of it stirred something like anticipation in his gut.

A cold smile touched his lips, barely masking the anger in his eyes.

The window creaked open. Luca slipped through with careful, practised grace. His shoes met the kitchen floor without a sound.

He made it two steps toward the living room before—

Ting.

A bell. Delicate. Almost melodic.

But Luca's stomach dropped. The sound cut through the stillness like a blade.

A trap. And now... the house was listening.

His mind worked rapidly. He could escape now, but that would blow his only chance. And even if he attempted to escape, the likelihood of capture was significant. Given his prior investigation and several deductions, it was reasonable to assume they had an athletic physique.

No.

He opened the window again, deliberately louder this time, letting it creak.

And without hesitation, he moved up the stairs.

Each step measured, he moved forward, only to find a second trap waiting for him. Another wire, stretched thin across the first step. He carefully stepped over it, leaving the trap undisturbed.

Then the footsteps came, rushed. From the back door.

They had taken the bait.

Without hesitation, Luca entered one of the rooms tucked away above. He remained perfectly still. He knew the culprits would return.

All signs pointed to someone highly athletic, someone capable of moving swiftly and executing elaborate plans without leaving evidence behind. Once they realized the escape had been staged, he would double back to search the house.

While most people would hide in closets or under beds, in any place they thought was safe.

But he chose to take the initiative.

Luca crouched beside a doorframe, tucked into the shadows, stun gun drawn.

The footsteps, slow, deliberate. Climbing the stairs.

Bang!

The bathroom door flung open, and silence.

Luca wasn't hiding there. He was in another room, blending into the shadows.

Then the soft turn of a doorknob.

The culprit stood on the threshold, sensing.

Luca waited.

When the man stepped in—

Luca fired the stun gun in one smooth motion.

The shock snapped through the intruder's body.

Knees buckled and he dropped.

Luca moved fast, snapping the cuffs around his wrists, securing them behind his back with precision.

"You are under arrest for crimes related to the disappearance of multiple victims."

The man wheezed out a laugh. "Haha... ha... You got me..."

Even while paralyzed by the stun gun, he let out a twisted laugh, like a madman who found joy in being caught.

Luca said nothing and watched him carefully.

"I've been waiting for someone like you," he rasped. "A worthy opponent. Finally, someone to make the game interesting."

"Where are the victims?" Luca asked coldly.

The killer chuckled again, a low, unsettling sound. "Pfft... you're really asking me that? You already know the answer. I will never leave them alive."

Luca's face hardened, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I do have my fun, though," he added, his grin widening. "Especially the pretty ones. They scream the sweetest, Hahaha!"

One of them had been a friend. One, he had hoped. No, believed he might be found alive.

He had thrown himself into this case for that one chance…

Luca didn't speak.

His whole body was shaking, blood boiling.

The line between justice and revenge blurred, just for a breath.

His hand clenched, knuckles white. He could break this man's neck.

One quick motion. Just one.

And yet, he held still.

The man leaned in slightly and chuckled again.

"Hoh~ You want to kill me. I can feel it."

He was right.

Luca could picture it, ending this. Wiping that grin off his face forever.

But he couldn't cross that line.

His parents still believed he could become a doctor, still believed in the path he had worked so hard for.

He turned his back and pulled out his phone.

A notification blinked.

[Braun — 10 minutes ago]

‘On my way. Be there soon. Stay put.’

Luca exhaled slowly and tapped the call icon.

It rang once.

"Good evening, Mr—"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound echoed first.

Then pain.

And... nothing made sense.

Everything blurred, and the floor rushed up to meet him. His limbs felt weightless and his mind slipped sideways.

From far away, he heard the voice on the phone, distorted and desperate.

"Luca? Luca! Hang in there!"

The killer's voice cut through, sharper than the ringing in his ears.

"... Your first mistake? Underestimating my flexibility.”

His wrist bent at an unnatural angle. The cuffs came off with ease, falling to the floor with a soft clink.

And calmly, his hand ran along the pistol gripped in the other.

“Second? You never checked if I was armed. You let anger cloud your judgment. It's a little disappointing... but you were a worthy opponent."

Luca coughed blood, thick and metallic, spilled past his lips.

And blood poured from the wound, It spread in silence across the floor.

Lying there, he could do nothing but watch the man above. The anger tightened his chest.

"What now?" the killer sneered. "Going to curse me with your dying breath? Hahaha-"

Bang! Bang!

More gunshots echoed, but this time, they weren't his.

The killer staggered back, confusion in his eyes.

"Wha-why..."

He collapsed on the ground, just like that. Gone.

Luca barely registered the footsteps that followed.

"Luca!"

Mr. Braunn.

Hands grabbed him, strong but trembling. His voice is closer now.

"Stay still! I've already called an ambulance!" Braun shouted.

The cold was setting in, and spreading. He couldn't stop it.

Luca blinked, the world turned soft around the edges and sounds dulled, like he was underwater.

Someone far away called his name. But it didn’t hurt anymore.

All he could think of was her face, half-formed in memory. A promise and a whispered from long ago.

And then—

He closed his eyes.

And the world let go…