Not long after done with the case, I returned to my apartment.
The city hummed faintly outside my soundproofed windows, a stark contrast to the silence that now filled my personal space.
Still wearing my jacket, a slight chill clinging to the fabric from the evening air, and carrying the evidence files I hadn't yet bothered to sort—their contents still swirling unpleasantly in my mind—I practically threw myself onto the sofa.
My body ached, not from physical exertion, but from the mental strain of the past few hours. My eyes, however, immediately gravitated towards the large 60-inch crystal screen hanging neatly on the wall, its obsidian surface reflecting the faint ambient light.
Yeah, it might sound excessive to some, a colossal waste of space and resources, but hey—in the world of 2035, where the lines between reality and simulation blurred by the nanosecond, a true gamer had to be ready anytime.
