The morning sun beat down on the Boardwalk, but it did little to brighten the moods of Hathen and Rockin. Oxin had run them ragged since five in the morning, scrubbing bathrooms, hauling furniture, and now, a grocery run.

"I need a break," Rockin groaned, wiping sweat from his brow. "First the cleaning, now the errands? My legs are shot."

Hathen spat on the pavement. "What was Oxin thinking? Waking us up at the crack of dawn just to put us through this hell? Forget the groceries. I need caffeine before I collapse."

Ahead of them, a massive line snaked out of a trendy new coffee shop. The air around the shop smelled peculiar—a heavy, rich scent of earth and fermented cherries. The sign out front boasted a world-famous delicacy: Kopi Luwak. Inside, the display cases were packed with treats: leche flan, vibrant purple yam cookies, and chilled halo-halo.

They waited impatiently until they reached the counter. A short Filipina woman with a harried expression looked up at the two monsters. "What can I get you?"

"Two Kopi Luwak and two of those purple cookies," Hathen grunted.

They took their haul to a small corner table, sitting near a group of children who were loud and sticky with lollipops. Rockin took a bite of a cookie; it was creamy and tropical, a perfect contrast to the bitter chores of the morning. But the coffee was the main event. It was thick, tasting of dark chocolate and overripe fruit.

Rockin took a deep, desperate gulp. Halfway through his second sip, he froze. Something wasn't right. Something was moving.

He opened his mouth, and a small, twitching beetle crawled off his tongue and onto the rim of the cup. Hathen turned green, his stomach doing a violent somersault. There was no bathroom in sight, so Hathen bolted out the door, sprinting toward a nearby lake.

Rockin caught up to him just as Hathen finished retching. "I'm not dreaming, am I?" Hathen gasped, wiping his mouth. "That smell... the richness... it wasn't chocolate. There are bugs in that brew!"

Fury replaced the nausea. Hathen marched back to the cafe, shoving through the crowded line. "BUGS!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. "There are bugs in the coffee! Run for your lives, or you're all dead!"

Panic erupted. Customers screamed, demanding refunds as they scrambled for the exit. Behind the counter, the woman gasped and retreated into the kitchen. "They caught us!" she hissed to her staff.

A bulky baker looked at his assistant and sighed. "I told you the civets weren't cleaning the beans well enough in those cages. I'm still working on the separator invention, but we're moving too fast."

Hathen, Rockin, and a stern-looking Oxin burst through the kitchen doors moments later. The scene was grim. Stacks of beans sat next to cramped, filthy cages housing four Asian Palm Civets. The poor creatures looked skeletal, their fur matted with waste. They had been forced to eat nothing but coffee cherries, and in their hunger, they had begun eating the flies and roaches attracted to their cages.

"You're all under arrest," Oxin shouted, his voice cold. "Animal cruelty and health violations. This 'poop coffee' is off the menu for good!"

Hathen looked at the civets. They weren't just animals; they looked like dying spirits, their eyes pleading for an end to the misery. "Get the hell out of here!" Hathen yelled at the staff. "Go to jail and never come back!"

"We just needed the money," the baker muttered, looking at his feet as they were led away.

The rescue was bittersweet. The civets were taken to a nearby zoo, but years of abuse had taken their toll. As Hathen and Rockin watched, one of the civets collapsed in the grass. It looked up at the blue sky, a faint, peaceful shiver running through its body, and then it went still.

Rockin dug a hole in the shade of a large tree, gently burying the creature. "I can't stand seeing them like this," he whispered. "Animal abuse has been around forever, but it never gets easier to see."

Back at the station, Hathen set up a makeshift sanctuary in his own quarters for the remaining three. "Let them stay here," he told Rockin. "They need a quiet place away from the noise."

As they left the room, Rockin sighed. "Maybe we should call Gorham or Dola to help watch them? I haven't seen them all morning. Elid and Carmine are on other assignments, and Uvital is swamped."

"Nah," Hathen grumbled. "Let those guys handle their own business. Especially Gorham—that guy is a weirdo. And don't get me started on Theo, that annoying journalist who thinks our lives are just content for his book."

"I heard that!" a voice barked. Theo appeared from around a corner, tackling the two monsters in a mock-scuffle. "I've won awards for my writing! My brother Symon might have a million fans, but I've got the talent!"

Theo glanced into the room, saw the sleeping civets, and recoiled. "OH SHIT! What the hell are those things?!"

Rockin shoved him out and locked the door. "Get lost, Theo!"

"I've got more money and more fame than both of you combined!" Theo yelled through the door, throwing a few more insults before stomping away. He ran into Dola and Gorham, who were arriving with coffee cake.

Dola watched Theo stomp off, a thoughtful look on her face. "He's a mess," she mused, "but he's right about one thing: this team has some serious depth issues. We're all just floating from one disaster to the next."

"I don't care if the case is closed because there was no murder," Gorham said, looking toward the room where the civets lay. "Animal cruelty is a different kind of darkness."

Theo, already halfway down the hall, gave a final wave. "Whatever! I'm going to find some durian. This job makes me want to gag anyway."