(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Rivermoor City...
High above Rivermoor, Jetray cut through the air in wide, deliberate arcs.
Ben scanned the city below carefully.
Streets twisted between tightly packed buildings.
"...."
Lantern light spilled onto stone roads.
People moved in small clusters—workers returning home, merchants closing shop, guards changing shifts.
Nothing stood out.
No frantic yells for helps. No obvious predators. No signs of pursuit.
'Well as expected of a busy city even at night this lively,'
Ben thought little suprised by how lively the city was.
After several passes, he slowed and angled downward.
Jetray descended silently into a narrow alley tucked between two aging buildings.
The space was empty, shadows clinging to damp stone walls and scattered crates.
The moment his feet touched the ground, green light flashed.
-FLAAASHHH!!!
Jetray dissolved and Ben stood in his place once more.
He exhaled and raised a hand, mana flowing smoothly as illusion magic wrapped around him.
His clothing shifted—royal fabric fading into simple travel-worn attire, colors muted, style common to Rivermoor's working class.
He seems perfectly blending in.
Ben glanced around, satisfied, and stepped out of the alley.
As he walked through the streets, he quickly realized something important.
If he wanted answers, he needed time.
And to get time—He needed a place to stay.
A nearby tavern caught his eye, its windows glowing warmly against the night.
Dockside Tavern...
The door creaked open as Ben stepped inside.
-Creak
The smell of cooked seafood and spiced oil filled the air.
An old man stood behind the counter, wiping a mug with a cloth, his weathered face lifting into a polite smile.
"...."
"...."
"...."
"Looking for a drink, or a bed?"
The old man asked while still wiping a mug and checking its spotless.
"A room, If you have one."
Ben replied while taking a small pouch filled with Yuls.
The owner nodded calmly.
-Nod
"...."
"Got a spare upstairs. Covers all three meals. No trouble, and we'll get along fine."
"That works,"
Ben nods and they settled the details quickly.
Not long after, Ben found himself seated at a small table with a steaming plate set before him.
Squid—fresh, lightly seasoned, cooked with practiced care.
He ate quietly, appreciating the simplicity of the food.
"...."
No palace chefs. No ceremony.
Just a meal.
When he finished, he stood and thanked the owner before stepping back outside of the tarven.
Rivermoor had not gone to sleep.
Ben adjusted his coat and moved with the crowd, eyes sharp, senses alert.
Theater District...
The streets grew brighter as Ben moved deeper into the city.
Ahead of him stood a newly built theater, its façade still clean, stone untouched by age.
A massive poster dominated the entrance.
Titanic.
Ben slowed without realizing it.
A crowd was spilling out of the theater—couples, families, young lovers wiping their eyes and laughing softly.
Near a candy stall just outside the entrance, a couple lingered, still caught in the afterglow of the story.
"They loved each other so much,"
The woman said, clutching her sweets.
"Jack and Rose should've lived together."
The man nodded eagerly still excited to discuss about the movie.
-Nod
"Yeah. Jack shouldn't have died. It was so unfair."
Ben listened quietly as he passed them.
A faint chuckle escaped him, more nostalgic than amused, and he turned away, ready to leave the area.
-Chuckle
"...."
Then—
Laughter broke through the night. Not warm. Not joyful.
Sharp claps followed, slow and deliberate.
-KAKAKAKAKA!!!!
Ben stopped by the sudden laughter.
Across the road, a man stepped into the light.
Dark coat. Wide-brimmed hat. A monocle gleaming beneath the streetlamp. A walking stick tapped once against the stone.
-Tap
He looked at the couple with open amusement.
"A perfect creation,"
The man declared loudly.
"Cheaters receiving the ending they deserved."
The couple stiffened by the sudden interruption.
The man continued, voice smooth and cutting.
"Rose should have died as well. Betraying her fiancé—after receiving such a precious blue pearl diamond."
He snorted softly.
-Snort
"Trust discarded so easily."
The woman's face paled.
"...."
The man beside her frowned, pulling her closer.
-Frown
"...."
Without waiting for a response, the stranger adjusted his hat and turned toward the theater.
"A masterpiece, I think I'll enjoy it once more."
He said cheerfully as he crossed the street and disappeared into the building.
The couple exchanged an uneasy glance, bought their candies in silence, and hurried away.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Ben remained where he was bewildered as he stared at the theater entrance for a long moment, the laughter still echoing faintly in his ears.
'I didn't expect that,'
He thought letting out a sigh.
-Sigh
Voices like that—judging, cruel, twisted under the guise of morality—he remembered them all too well.
From another world. From years after the film's release.
To hear it here—So openly. So confidently.
Ben exhaled slowly.
-Sigh
"…Guess some things really are universal,"
He muttered and as he turned his gaze back toward the theater then turned and left.
Ben had barely crossed into the next street when a scream tore through the night.
-Ahhhhh!!!
"NOOOOOO!!!"
It wasn't the sharp cry of surprise.
It was raw. Broken. The sound of someone who had already lost everything.
People rushed toward it from every direction.
Ben followed, slowing as guards moved in ahead of the crowd, raising their hands and forcing onlookers back.
"Stay behind the line!"
One of them shouted.
Ben stopped just short of the barrier.
From where he stood, he could see the aftermath.
Several guards were carefully lifting a woman's body from the house, wrapping it in cloth before placing it into a black carriage waiting nearby.
The lantern light caught the pale edge of her face for only a moment before it was covered.
The carriage door closed.
She was being taken to the specialists—those who would examine what remained and search for clues no one else could find.
Nearby, a man was on his knees.
His cries had softened into hoarse sobs, his voice breaking as he tried to reach forward.
Two guards held him back gently but firmly, keeping him from collapsing toward the carriage.
-Sob -Sob
"That's my wife,"
He kept saying.
"That's my wife…"
Ben watched in silence.
"...."
One of the guards turned to his superior and spoke in a low, professional tone as he reported.
"He was the one who found her, Came home late from his shift. Later than usual."
The senior officer nodded grimly.
-Nod
"So he walked in on it."
"Yes, sir."
The man's sobs echoed through the street, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.
No accusation hung in the air—only grief.
The kind that left no room for words.
Ben felt something settle uncomfortably in his chest.
'Too late,'
He thought as he looked at the carriage again, at the guards, at the shattered man being helped to his feet.
A pattern. A killer who struck quietly. Who left devastation behind. Who vanished before anyone could intervene.
Ben lowered his gaze, mind already working.
'I was already here, And still didn't catch it.'
A guard stepped forward, raising his hand to push the crowd back.
"Alright, everyone—please clear the area. This street is restricted."
Ben moved before the line could close completely.
He reached into his coat and took out a golden coin, its surface engraved with the unmistakable emblem of the Royal Knights.
The metal caught the lantern light as he held it up at chest level.
"I'm a Royal Knight,"
Ben said calmly.
"I came here after hearing about the recent murders."
The guard froze.
"...."
As his eyes dropped to the coin.
He took it carefully, turning it once, then twice—checking the crest, the weight, the markings only those in service would recognize.
His posture straightened immediately.
"My apologies, sir,"
The guard said, returning the coin with both hands.
He nodded once, sharply, then turned and hurried toward his superior.
-Nod
"...."
Ben waited while a brief exchange followed near the carriage—low voices, quick gestures.
The senior officer glanced over, eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed Ben from a distance.
Then he raised his hand and gave a one short signal.
Then guards parted as Ben stepped through the line and approached the senior officer.
The man gave him a crisp salute.
"Royal Knight, Thank you for coming."
"I'll need everything you have, No omissions."
Ben asked about the investigation details fully to understand the murders.
"Yes, sir."
The officer gestured toward the carriage and the sealed house beyond it.
"The murders follow the same pattern, Every time. Married women. Same markings left behind."
Ben listened without interrupting as the officer continued.
"...."
"This has been going on for nearly three years, But it isn't frequent. Months can pass between incidents. Sometimes longer."
"A patient killer,"
Ben said quietly while thinking how calm and collected the killer must be.
The officer nodded seriously.
-Nod
"Yes. And careful. No witnesses. No clear trail. By the time we arrive, it's already over."
Ben looked back toward the house once more, then to the street beyond.
Three years. Gaps between killings. A deliberate pattern.
This wasn't madness. It was conviction.
"Has anyone ever been arrested?"
Ben asked turning to the officer.
Who shook his head.
"No, sir."
Ben exhaled slowly.
-Sigh
"…Alright, Then we start from the beginning."
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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