"But he hit me first," Sirius, only three, sobbed.

"Patience is a virtue," she said, embracing him with both her arms, her words as gentle as her touch. "You could have resolved this without violence." Warmth radiated from her, filling the small space around them.

"Mother?"

He drifted back into a forgotten memory, one that still lingered, heavy with its old effect. Slowly, his eyes blinked open, and he found himself once again in the present, the memory of her warmth still lingering in his chest.

He finds himself laying on a hospital bed.

"He's awake!" Zoro’s voice cuts through.

Then, a rumbling—like sheep stampeding—fills the room. Before Sirius can even react, he’s surrounded by Kareef, Lihar, Nilo, and Raz, all staring at him with gallons of relief running down their spines.

“The whole fan club is here” Sirius says, sitting up on the bed, his voice deep—so unlike his usual tone—that it makes the room go quiet for a moment.

Everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief.

“He’s fine,” Lihar says, patting Zoro on the back.

“Did I miss something?” Sirius asks, still a little confused.

“Nothing much. Parselley injected you with a liver-toxic compound,” Raz says casually. “It basically overwhelmed your liver for a bit, made your stomach bleed, hence the… blood-vomiting episode.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows and turns to Lihar.

“He’s in jail,” Lihar says, answering before Sirius even asks. “All his murders are finally confirmed. And when they questioned him, he just said, ‘That’s how the world works. I only made it practical.’”

“What a lunatic,” Sirius mutters, sweeping his bangs off his forehead.

A nurse walks in at that moment…

“Mr. Sirius Kareef, you’ll be discharged in a week. The damaged tissue is still weak, and we need consistent tests.”

“I’ll come for them,” Sirius replies.

“Unfortu—” Before the nurse can finish, Kareef cuts in sharply:

“If something like this happens again, it can be fatal. As if it wasn’t close already. We spent an entire day treating you. Do you have any consciousness of your actions?”

His heart breaks all over again remembering Sirius unconscious on that table, but anger will discipline Sirius better than compassion. He keeps staring at him, rigid.

“It’s not like I voluntarily asked Parselley to kidnap me,” Sirius says in an amused tone, still oblivious to the depth of Kareef’s worry.

“You voluntarily chose this career. And it’s not going to benefit you if you keep acting like this.”

Kareef’s voice turns fatherly—stern, commanding.

“We’re not gonna talk about this here… are we?” Sirius asks, disbelief rising.

"According to your condition, you need a month of rest. And the department won’t let you in like this.”

“I’m not shadowing you from a hospital bed,” Sirius says, stubborn as a child.

“No,” Kareef says, placing a steady hand on Raz’s shoulder. “I just want you to meet someone.”

“Not a chance. I’m not marrying her just because she’s Raz’s daughter and a doctor.”

Sirius swings his legs off the bed, already preparing to stand.

Lihar and Zoro were already at the door.

“I’d rather not meddle with your family affairs,” Zoro says, hands raised in surrender.

Lihar glances at Kyrokuto.

Kyrokuto lifts his chin, silently mouthing, What?

“Forgot he’s part of the family,” Lihar whispers to Zoro, an inside laugh slipping out.

“I’m not asking you to marry her. Just meet her once — maybe thank her as well. She, along with your father, treated you!”

This time Raz requests, not orders.

Sirius sighs… then nods.

“Call the doctor on ward seven , third floor.” Kareef tells the nurse.

“I need to change out of these clothes,” Sirius adds.

Kyrokuto stays behind to help him, while Raz and Kareef — both relieved that Sirius is being so unusually obedient — step outside.

Outside the room, Raz’s daughter arrives.

Kareef knocks.

“Are you done?”

“Emmmm…” comes a muffled reply.

They open the door—

And there he is, lying on the bed with a blanket pulled over his face.

“Sirius?? What is this?” Kareef asks, stepping closer.

Raz’s daughter leans against the wall, her smile carving out the dimples on her face.

Raz slaps his leg. “Get up!”

Kareef tries to pull the blanket away, but Sirius holds it tight with surprising force.

“Father, I’m actually feeling a little shy,” he says in a shaky voice.

“How can I present myself before a beautiful lady in these clothes? I fear I must not — it would ruin thy reputation!”

Kareef rolls his eyes so hard the room tilts.

“Shakespeare, worry about thy state and get out before I lose my patience.”

“He had a long night, he can talk like this…” Kyrokuto mutters, putting a hand over his own mouth.

Kareef slowly turns his head toward Kyrokuto with a deadly stare.

He grabs the blanket again, this time with full force — so much that the bed, with wheels underneath, actually moves.

Kyrokuto grabs Kareef, trying to hold him back.

Raz joins in, and together they yank the blanket away—

…only to reveal Nilo underneath.

Front of Fitta Central Hospital 

Lihar and Zoro were walking toward their car.

Lihar slipped a hand into his pocket, flicking through loose coins and the frame of his glasses before realizing—

“Ah! Shoot. Kyrokuto has the keys!”

Zoro looked at him. Definitely at a disadvantage — Lihar was his senior, which meant he’d have to go fetch them.

“Zoro, you wouldn’t mind—”

Before Lihar could even finish, he was interrupted.

“No need. Right here,” Sirius said, leaning against the car. A syringe still taped to his hand, he casually tossed the keys into the air and caught them with a lazy flick.

“You were supp—” Lihar began again, but Sirius cut him off.

“I’m supposed to heal by spending time with my loved ones,” he said, flashing a childish grin. “Which is you guys.”

He held up the keys triumphantly, as if that alone proved his point.

Lihar’s eyebrows tightened with anger as he rushed toward Sirius.

“Your father is absolutely right. You’re in no condition to be standing out here. We spent an entire night worrying over you, and your presence here would only render all our efforts meaningless.”

He stared at Sirius, storms invading what little patience he had left. As much as he wanted Sirius by his side, his health came first.

“You know that if it’s not physical pain, it’ll become a mental one,” Sirius muttered, looking away — almost embarrassed to admit it. “As much as I respect Father’s and Raz’s old friendship, I won’t do that.”

“Is there something I don’t know about?” Lihar asked, his voice tight. He had grown up with Sirius since they were fourteen. They had met in high school, both outsiders in a group they never truly fit into. They had studied together, lived half their lives side by side. Usually, Lihar could read Sirius like an open book — but this? This felt unfamiliar.

“It’s no use,” Zoro cut in, stepping between them like a fire extinguisher thrown onto a spreading blaze. “If he’s not with us, he’ll just run off somewhere else. He’s safer here.”

He moved urgently, not aggressively, trying to smother the fire already consuming the tension between them.

They sat in the Van and deperated to the next case.

10 AM. Boulangerie(French Bakery)

The boulangerie sat on a busy corner in Fitta. A cream-and-rose awning hung above the mint-green door, and the bell jingled whenever someone came in. Inside, the air smelled of butter and fresh bread. Croissants  and tarts were stacked on wooden shelves. Normally, Jung and his father worked behind the busy till, but today the shop was crowded with police officers, searching every corner for the ingredients of the crime.

They parked right in front of the bakery. Zoro and Lihar went inside, while Sirius lingered outside, drowning in boredom more than pain.

Inside, the body lay sprawled on the floor, drenched, the white denim jacket soaked through and clinging to it. Blood had darkened the fabric, splashing like red stains on snow. Shattered glass littered the ground, and above them, a hole gaped where the CCTV camera had once been—gone, leaving the crime unrecorded.

A police officer approached, eyes on Zoro. "Nick Thomas," he said—the victim’s name. According to the baker, Louis, and his son Jung, he was a regular customer. They hadn’t been aware of anything amiss until the moment they heard the bang against the wall.

“Anyone see anyone running from the bakery?” Lihar asked.

“When we heard the noise, we came running down,” Jung said, catching his breath.

“Anything stolen? Lihar asked.

“No, nothing… other than our reputation,” Louis replied. A man in his fifties, he had spent decades making people’s days better with sweet treats, earning respect in the neighborhood—now standing humiliated, facing the shadow of a potential murder accusation.

Just as Lihar’s kindness was about to sprinkle some compassion toward the old man, his eyes fell on his hand. He had a cut on his right hand—Jung had a cut on his left.

“Is this some kind of family tradition, cutting your hands or what?” Lihar asked, focusing every one of his few awake brain cells.

“No, it’s normal for bakers,” Jung replied with a shrug. “We handle knives, and ovens all day—small cuts come with the job.”

“We’ll know for sure once the forensics arrive,” Lihar said, glancing at Zoro, then turning to walk away with him.

“Why are they always late?” Lihar muttered.

“ because they had to cover Raz’s absence,” Zoro replied.

“Officers, take them both for investigation… and fingerprints,” Lihar ordered.

“Shall I get the CCTV footage from the street?” Zoro asked.

“No need. I know someone who’ll save us time ,” Lihar replied.

He walked to the van, and Zoro followed, sliding into the seat beside him. “Tell Nilo to get us the footage.”

“So, any other cuts besides their hands?” Sirius asked, dialing Nilo’s number.

“Hold—wait,” Lihar interrupted mid-sentence. “Zoro, check your pockets.”

Inside Zoro’s pocket was a mini audio recorder, picking up everything that happened inside the bakery.

“Uf, Sirius, uf,” Lihar muttered while reversing the car.

“You never fail to surprise me,” Zoro laughed.

Sirius pulled up a cheeky smile, pleased with himself.

Forensic Department- Main Station Fitta

“Mr. Cidah, any updates?”

Lihar asks as he steps into the forensic lab, the smell of disinfectant in the air.

The  forensic analyst glances up from the sink. At 27 years old, holding a PhD in his field, Mr. Cidah was  covering for Raz, who’d taken his day off.

“Good afternoon, detectives,” he says , stripping off the  gloves and peeling away the disposable gown. He dries his hands, retrieves a  file from the counter, and walks over to them.

“We have two  findings aside from the confirmed cause of death,” he began. “First—there were traces of baking flour embedded in the victim’s hair. Someone attempted to rinse it off; the dilution pattern is consistent with a quick wash under running water, not a thorough cleaning.”

He turned another page.

“Second—the latent prints lifted from the occipital area—the back of the victim’s head—match both Jung and Louis.We detected small amounts of their blood on the victim’s neck and collar area. The blood spatter suggests close contact, not projection, so it likely transferred during physical handling.”

He closed the file gently and handed it to Zoro.

“These findings confirm physical interaction with the victim shortly before or after the incident".

Main Detective Room

Nilo delivered the CCTV footage to them—recordings from the streets nearby. 

After replaying the footage for the third time in slow motion,Zoro said:“He goes in around 7 p.m… but never comes out. The victim,” 

“And the bakery closes at 8:30 p.m.,” Lihar added,  glued to the screen.

The footage wasn’t clear  to see inside. All they got was the  glow of the bakery lights.Then, at exactly 9:00 p.m., the window shattered, a burst of glass scattering like diamonds.

Sirius raised his head, rolling the chair  back.

“Using flour to hide fingerprints on the back of the victim’s head…” he said, rubbing his temple. “That’s not planned. That’s panic.”

Zoro frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning whoever touched the body didn’t expect to.” Sirius closed the file, tapping it once. “Flour’s too messy to control. If you’re trying to hide prints, you’d wipe surfaces. But putting flour on a body? It’s stupid. It screams impulsive.”

Lihar crossed his arms. “So not a clean-up. A reaction.”

“Exactly,” Sirius nodded. “Something happened inside that bakery between 8:30 and 9:00. Something loud enough to break a window and desperate enough for someone to grab flour like a drowning man grabbing air.”

Nilo perked up. “But the CCTV shows no one exiting. And officers confirmed no back door.”

“Which means,” Sirius said, while breathing heavily, “the killer didn’t leave.”

Zoro blinked. “You’re saying Louis and Jung aren’t just witnesses?”

“I’m saying,” Sirius corrected softly, “one of them is lying. Maybe both. But only one touched the camera hard enough to leave an imprint. And only one touched the victim after death.”

Lihar raised an eyebrow. “Which one? Louis or Jung?”

Sirius smiled faintly, a tilt that was far too calm for a man who had blood coming out of his stomach a day ago.

“Neither,” he said.

“The flour on the victim wasn’t bakery flour.”

Zoro froze. “What?”

“Mr. Cidah noted it. The dilution pattern. It wasn’t fine like their bakery flour—too coarse. That flour didn’t come from the bakery.”

Nilo stuttered, “So… someone else was there?”

Sirius nodded slowly.

“And they’re the one who never walked out.”

“Someone who can come and go easily? It could be Jung… or Carl,” Zoro said, though his voice carried doubt even he could hear.

Sirius stared at him for a long second.

“Think beyond,” he said, tapping the report with the back of his pen. “Who can enter a shop without raising suspicion? Who goes in and out without anyone questioning it?”

Lihar’s eyes widened first, like a bulb switching on.

“The delivery guy,” he said, sitting up straight.

Sirius pointed at him. “There you go.”

Zoro blinked, then snapped his fingers. “Yes. We didn’t see him on the CCTV because he used the back door—of course.”

Nilo leaned back in his chair. “But the bakery claims they didn’t have any deliveries scheduled during that time.”

Sirius shrugged lightly. “Which is exactly why it wasn’t their bakery flour.’'

Lihar pushed away from the desk, already reaching for his coat. “We check the delivery records. Every supplier. Every driver who might’ve passed that area.”

Zoro grabbed the van keys. “And we ask Louis again. Calmly this time.”

Sirius stood up too—slowly, hand pressing his stomach.

Lihar shot him a glare instantly. “You’re staying here.”

“No,” Sirius said, heading toward the door anyway. “If someone’s been slipping into the bakery unnoticed, I want to see the back door myself.”

Zoro sighed. “Great. The patient is diagnosing the hospital again.”

Sirius turned slightly. “It’s called hands-on learning.”

Lihar muttered under his breath, “It’s called being a headache.”

But he didn’t stop him.

They all headed out together—because if there truly was a delivery driver who walked into that bakery that night…

He was the only ghost who never appeared on camera.