Théodore stood amidst the crumpled bodies of nearly twenty gang members, the air around him tense with silence. Only one man remained standing now—the gang leader, still holding the revolver unsteadily near the trembling "customer's" head.
"You really want me to kill him?" the gang leader snarled, his voice trembling, half-threat, half-despair.
Théodore smirked, his voice calm as ever. "You can if you want to. After all, you both are pawns in the same little game your so-called 'leader' is playing." He stepped closer, hands still relaxed at his sides. "And I might already know what his endgame is... but first, I'll deal with the two of you."
Both the gang leader and the "customer" froze, blinking. "What?" they said in unison.
Théodore's eyes gleamed with piercing clarity as he began his deduction.
"Simple perception, Mr. Gang Leader. Your supposed partner—this man beside you—was never a victim. He was part of the plan. The plan to lure me in… to see how far I could get. And I did."
He gestured subtly to the "customer." "Let's rewind. He walked into my shop just today—a shop that I had only just opened. That alone was the first red flag. How would he even know I existed unless someone sent him?"
Théodore took a slow step forward. "Then, I asked him if his problem was with the administration. He said no. And that's when I knew something was off. Even in school-level settings, people talk trash about the administration. And why wouldn't they? It's a crumbling mess. But he responded like he was trying not to talk about something he definitely knew."
The gang leader's grip on the gun faltered slightly.
Théodore went on. "Next, he took me straight to your base. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Now, why would a regular civilian do that? Take a complete stranger, who might as well be a fraud, to the lion's den? Simple. Because he wasn't a civilian. He was bait."
The "customer's" face turned pale.
"Then comes the fourth and final proof. No real civilian gives a damn about what's going on in the dark underbelly of the state. They hand such matters to the police—or at least try to. But this man was too eager. Too involved. And it wasn't concern—it was a mission."
Théodore paused and looked at both of them. "You were both used. Set up by a man smarter than either of you. And you, gang leader, were disposable the moment you failed."
The gun trembled in the leader's hand. The "customer" tried to back away slightly, realizing that the web he helped weave had entangled him too.
Théodore tilted his head. "And here's the funny part. Your mysterious 'leader'? He never planned for me to figure this out this fast. But unfortunately for him…"
He raised one eyebrow and whispered coldly, "I'm something more than a detective."
The atmosphere thickened, every second feeling heavier than the last.
And then, without another word—Théodore looked at their expressions.