9 p.m. — FITTA Forensic department 

Dr. Raz was working on the eye of a crocodile,

while the forensic staff were draining its blood for various uses.

“Yo, Raz! Whatcha doing?”

“’Sup,” Lihar added.

Both entered the laboratory, twinning —

ripped jeans, leather jackets.

Lihar had kohal around his eyes and was chewing gum.

Sirius wore a band on his forehead, fringe loose,

a toothpick in the mouth that he was fake-chewing.

Lihar leaned casually against the wall, striking a pose.

Sirius rested his shoulder on him.

For a moment, silence.

Then — the forensic staff started clapping.

Sirius and Lihar exchanged a look,

nodding confidently, as if they’d just nailed a runway show.

Dr. Raz raised an eyebrow.

“What is this, a catwalk?”

The lab door creaked.

Zoro walked in.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Baggy denim jeans. Oversized hoodie.

And on top of his head—

“Zoro, my son, why do you have half the world’s oil on your head?”

Raz dropped his tweezers.

Exactly.

Zoro’s hair was soaked in oil, slicked from the middle to one side.

“No fair! I didn’t get any comments!” Sirius moaned.

“You look like a frog in a swamp,” Raz added without looking up.

“I got the bike. Let’s depart.”

“Why didn’t I depart the world before looking at you?” Raz muttered, removing his gloves.

Kyrokuto walked in — sleeveless shirt, tooled-in pants, and a bandana slung loosely around his neck,the kind typical gangsters always wear.

His hair curled to one side,

and on his upper lip, he’d drawn a gigantic mole.

Once again, the forensic staff fell silent —

this time, without the clapping.

“From me to you, Kyrokuto… I thought you’d slack off,”

Lihar said, patting Kyrokuto on the back.

Sirius and Zoro struggled to hold back their laughter.

“This is courage, which you do not have. Musketeers, let’s depart!”

Kyrokuto said in self-defense while fixing his belt.

“Four Musketeers? I only see three plus one fashion disaster.”

Dr. Raz said, doing a go-go jester gesture instead of a proper goodbye.

Underground Club FITTA — 10 p.m.

They arrived on a bike. Literally a bike.

The club was alive with chaos.

On one side, people hunched over tables, playing cards with intense stares.

In another corner, someone sold skewers and fried snacks, smoke curling up into the neon haze.

A group chatted loudly by the stall, laughing, arguing, plotting.

In the shadows, a fight broke out — fists swinging, someone hitting the floor.

Near the far wall, a few sharpened knives and swords, their owners testing edges with quiet precision.

Every corner had its own story.

Every shadow hid a secret.

“Carlos Debois. He’s gonna lead us,” Sirius said.

They walked toward him — a man in his forties, broad shoulders, sharp jaw, and a cold confidence that came from running streets, not labs. Gold chain, dark shades, and the kind of face that said he’d seen it all.

“Carlos, my boy!” Sirius said, offering a hug.

“Severn,” Carlos grinned, pulling him into a side hug.

He didn’t flinch — just patted Sirius’s back once, a casual nod of dominance.

“Severn?”

Zoro’s words slipped out before he could stop them.

Lihar gave him a quick nudge with his elbow — the silent “shut up before you blow it” kind of warning.

“These must be the clients?” Carlos said, scanning the group. His eyes lingered on Zoro — something about his appearance seemed to give him away.

“They are…” Sirius started, then leaned slightly forward.

“Is the merchandise… ready?”

“This way.” Carlos turned on his heel and strode through the club, cutting between groups without slowing.

At the stall, a man hunched over, sharpening his tools with precise, practiced movements. Sparks flicked up with each strike.

“You got an offer?” Carlos asked, tossing a glance at the man.

The man didn’t flinch. “If you got money, talk. If not… walk back.”

Carlos leaned casually, hands tucked in his pockets, watching the group like a predator circling its prey.

“Just get the job done. We have the cash,” Lihar said, stepping into the tense silence like he owned the space.

Both Carlos and Sirius turned toward him, letting out a low, impressed moan.

Lihar shook his head, as if to say, “What?”

The man with the sharpened tools finally looked up, eyes narrowing at Lihar.

“You… you’re not from here,” he said, suspicion cutting through his tone.

“Nah, bruh, we straight outta Dark Moon. Don’t stress — we handle our biz, ya feel me?”

Sirius let out his acting skills for the sake of survival.

Even Carlos was taken aback.

The man stared at Sirius for a few seconds, taking in the toothpick chewing in his mouth, the calm confidence in his stance.

Then his gaze shifted to Zoro, who returned it with a low, angry glare.

“This way!”

The man stopped sharpening his tools and motioned them forward, leading them to three men seated quietly.

“Out of these three,” he said, eyes landing on one of them, “this lad’s the best. His shooting range? Top-notch. Reflexes sharp. Doesn’t miss.”

“Can you shoot from fifteen metres?” Sirius asked, slang thick in his words.

“Not a chance of missin’,” he added, chewing his toothpick, eyes cold.

“In a movin’ target?” Lihar asked, eyebrows raised.

The third lad’s eyes narrowed, disbelief flashing across his face.

“Where’d you fetch these people?” he asked the man.

“Don’t they know who I am?” His voice carried a mix of pride and incredulity — clearly shocked that someone of their skill level was unknown to him.

Sirius glanced at Kyrokuto, who kept itching his beard every two seconds, clearly wanting to play his part but too nervous to speak.

Kyrokuto slipped his hand into the back pocket of his pants, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Sirius.

The man in front of them wore a mask, covering most of his face. His physique wasn’t bulky, but every movement hinted at surprising stamina and precision.

“Details are here. Half payment now, half later,” Sirius said, passing the envelope.

The man took it with a curt nod.

“Take your work as done,” he replied.

Sirius slid a hand to his neck, tracing a subtle sign — silent language.

Lihar, standing just behind him, caught it immediately.

They’re being followed.

Without a word, Carlos,alerted, led them through the club, weaving past the chaos until they reached a stall stacked with glittering pearls — clearly illegal.

They slipped inside, the noise of the crowd masking their movements.

From the back of the stall, hidden behind crates and shadows, they made their escape. The doors swung shut silently behind them, leaving the chaos of the underground club behind.

“Zoro? Shoot, where’s he?” Lihar asked.

They ducked back into the stall.

Two men chasing them went down — Zoro had taken care of them silently, efficiently.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sirius said, tugging them forward.

They ran.

“You’ve improved,” Lihar said, giving Zoro a quick pat on the head, voice low and impressed.

“I had a great teacher,” Zoro replied, eyes forward, still moving through.

They reached their bike in a hurry.

“You have my gratitude,” Sirius said while hugging him.

“How’s my son doing?” Carlos asked.

“His hacking skills are uncomparable. He has your eyes.”

“Someday, tell him about me!”

Sirius shook his head. “You’ll meet him soon.”

All the others thanked him as well, and they departed on a bike — literally a bike.

Swimming Pool, Fitta Central — 9 a.m.

The shooter from yesterday — the one hired to get the job done — made his way into Fitta Central’s swimming pool.

It was early. The air was cool, the water calm. A few swimmers cut through the lanes, their splashes echoing softly against the tiled walls. The place was quiet enough for footsteps to sound too loud.

He slipped toward the upper maintenance platform, half hidden behind pipes and the humming filter system. From there, he could see everything — the perfect vantage point.

He crouched, assembling his rifle with steady hands. The faint click of metal on metal filled the silence. His breathing slowed. The target came into sight.

He adjusted the scope, finger brushing the trigger—

Something crashed into him from behind.

Not something — someone.

The impact threw him forward, the gun slipping from his grip and clattering across the metal floor.

Before he could recover, Sirius was already there. He caught the rifle mid-slide, spun it once in his hand, and smirked.

“Thanks, man,” he said, calm as ever.

Behind him, Lihar stood, steadying his balance — the faintest grin on his face.

Kyrokuto came up with a rope and quickly tied the shooter down, securing him with practiced precision.

“Good job, wrap it up!” Lihar shouted.

Suddenly, the few swimmers and the so-called targets revealed themselves — police officers, all playing their part.

Zoro monitored it all from the CCTV station, eyes sharp behind the screens.

“Now the prince is gonna tell us the tale,” Sirius said.

“You’re not normal civilians,” the culprit said, still unaware of the situation.

“Ah no, we’re vampires,” Sirius replied, making a biting sound with his teeth.

“We’re detectives, and you’re gonna tell us about that Mila Yueng you shot a few days ago,” Lihar said, rolling up his sleeves.

“We’re known for our loyalty,” the culprit said, arrogance still intact.

“And we’re known for our legs,” Sirius added. Hands in his pockets, he hooked the culprit’s neck with his feet and dropped him onto the floor.

When Sirius removed his feet, Lihar kicked the culprit in the stomach, forcing him to roll over. He landed a sharp blow to the abdomen, making the man choke up blood.

“Is loyalty still running through your veins?” Lihar asked.

“Fine,” the culprit moaned in pain, blood trickling from his mouth.

“It was from…”

A gunshot rang out from above, where the shooter had been hidden. The bullet struck the culprit in the head, causing sudden death.

They all looked up — the shooter had made a run for it.

They went after him, slipping between empty corridors and sunlit stairwells, each step quiet but urgent. The echo of their movements bounced off the walls as they closed the distance.

“Zoro?” Sirius called into the walkie-talkie.

Static. No reply.

“We’re on the shooter,” Lihar replied, determination tightening his tone.

Sirius arrived in the CCTV control room. Zoro and another officer lay unconscious on the floor.

He quickly checked their breathing — both alive — and poured some water on their faces.

“What happened?” Zoro groaned, slowly regaining consciousness.

“Long story,” Sirius said, grabbing the walkie-talkie. He instructed the other officers to separate and close all entrances.

“We lost him,” Lihar’s voice came through, tense and clipped.

“Come back to the pool,” Sirius replied.

They made their way back — but the dead body… was gone.

Fitta Central Police Station

A few days later, the case was officially closed.

“With the shooter gone, it’s impossible to know the culprit and how they made their way out,” Zoro said.

“We underestimated the Shadow Gang’s ability,” Lihar added, removing the case notes from the table.

“Nephew? You’ve been awfully quiet about this,” Kyrokuto said, sipping his coffee.

“There’s something we missed,” Sirius replied after a moment of silence, hands on his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“Well, we’ve got no clues to lead us anywhere.”

Dr. Raz entered the room. “Also, your signature is needed on this closure file for the case.”

“You can’t even let me drown in sadness!” Sirius moaned.

As he stood up, he tripped — his laces were untied.

“What a frog,” Raz laughed at him.

“That’s it! The culprit was always in front of our eyes!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed.

The whole room went silent, shock written across every face.

“Zoro, grab the official police officers! We’re going to make the arrest,” Sirius ordered.

Without question, Zoro fell into his usual rhythm, gathering the officers and the team to follow through.

Culprit’s House

Lihar rang the bell and stepped back.

The door opened.

“You are under arrest… Miss Mei!”

Everyone froze, shocked.

“It’s simple,” Sirius continued, voice calm but sharp. “You were the one who ordered the shooter. And funny enough, a moment before the shot… you bent down to tie your laces.”

“You need testimony for that,” she replied once again, calm and composed.

“And we do. Arrest her,” Sirius ordered, voice firm and unwavering.

Back at the Station

Once they were back, Zoro asked, “From where do we get the testimony?”

“From Carlos Nilo Debois" Sirius replied.

“Wasn’t he just helping you for money?” Zoro asked, skeptical.

“His job is much more noble. He’s an undercover police officer who sacrificed his life and, many times, prevented the Shadow Gang from harming innocents,” Sirius explained.

“Nilo, you said?”

“He is Nilo’s father. He named him that because he wanted him to live the life he never lived,” Sirius continued, voice sympathetic. “Now he has done enough. He should meet Nilo, for once.”

Two Days Later

“Forgot to ask, where’d you learn slang?” Lihar asked.

“You spoke it better than you speak normal English.”

“Ah, I just watched a series and learned to act a day before,” Sirius replied.

“Nephew, such a show-off,” Kyrokuto said.

Zoro burst into the room, breathless and panicked.

“Sirius… Carlos is dead!”