Adrian sat at his kitchen table, the city's neon glow leaking through the blinds and painting stripes across the cluttered room. He stared at the cold leftovers on his plate, appetite dulled by exhaustion and dread. Accepting his fate, he forced down a few bites, then reached for his pack of cigarettes.
He lit one, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the tension ease from his shoulders. For a moment, the world felt almost normal.
[Warning: Smoking is dangerous to your health.]
The System's voice cut through the silence, crisp and insistent. Adrian rolled his eyes, exhaling a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.
"I know," he muttered. "Please, just stop with the warnings. Let me enjoy it. It's either I die from this case or from the cigarettes, right?"
The System didn't reply. Adrian smirked, flicking ash into the tray. He glanced at the floating interface, still hovering in the corner of his vision.
He hesitated, then asked, "Why do you call me 'Detective of No Success'? That's my office nickname. How do you even know about that?"
The System remained silent, the title still displayed under his name in the Status tab. Adrian frowned, but decided not to push it. There were bigger problems to worry about.
He leaned back, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Clarify the failure condition for this quest," he said, voice steady.
[Failure Condition: No case update to Chief Huggins within three days will be considered a failure. Termination Protocol will be enacted.]
Adrian's heart skipped a beat. "So if I don't report progress, I'm done?"
[Affirmative.]
He stubbed out his cigarette, suddenly wide awake. The file Chief Huggins had given him sat on the table, its thinness mocking him. He grabbed it, flipping it open, eyes scanning the sparse contents.
The System's voice chimed in. [Please wait while I upload the file into the system.]
A progress bar appeared in the air, filling quickly. [Files uploaded. Opening Case Board.]
The world seemed to shift. In front of Adrian, a sprawling digital board unfolded, covered in virtual sticky notes, photographs, and lines connecting pieces of evidence. It was like a detective's dream—organized chaos, every clue at his fingertips.
He saw testimonies from the janitor, the manager, and the receptionist. Photographs of the Voss Company building, taken from various angles. A logbook listing everyone who had entered or exited the premises on the night Eleanor disappeared. But there was no CCTV footage—someone had wiped the cameras clean.
Adrian began sorting through the files, dragging and dropping them across the Case Board. The System helped, highlighting connections and inconsistencies as he worked.
He read the testimonies carefully. The janitor, the manager, and the receptionist all claimed there were no vehicles around that evening—not even the delivery van that usually made its rounds. It struck Adrian as odd. He flipped through the photographs, eyes narrowing.
Near the drop-off area, one photo showed faint tire tracks in the rain-soaked pavement. He zoomed in, heart pounding. If no vehicles had been present, where did these tracks come from?
[Skill Activated: Deduction Lv. 1]
A faint glow surrounded the tire tracks, and a new line appeared on the Case Board, connecting the photograph to the testimonies. The System highlighted the inconsistency.
Adrian leaned forward, excitement stirring in his chest. "Someone's lying," he whispered. "Or someone missed something."
He checked the logbook. No unusual entries. The building had closed early that night—another oddity. Why would the staff leave before their usual time?
He made a note on the Case Board:
• Inconsistency: Tire tracks present, but no vehicles reported. Building closed early.The hours slipped by as Adrian worked, piecing together the fragments of the case. The System offered occasional hints, nudging him toward overlooked details, but never giving away the answers.
Eventually, fatigue caught up with him. He closed the file, stretched, and glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight.
He stood, shuffled to his bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep claimed him quickly, dreams filled with flashing lights and echoing "Dings."
Morning arrived with a pale gray light filtering through the curtains. Adrian dragged himself out of bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He went through his morning routine—shower, fresh clothes, another cigarette.
[Warning: Smoking is dangerous to your health.]
Adrian waved a hand dismissively. "Stop. I get it."
He grabbed his coat and the case file, then headed out. The city was waking up, the streets buzzing with life. Adrian made his way to the Voss Company office, determined to cross-examine the staff in person.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The manager, the janitor, and the receptionist greeted him with forced smiles, their eyes wary. Adrian questioned them one by one, pressing for details about the night Eleanor disappeared.
But their answers were identical—too identical. It was as if they'd rehearsed their lines, each one reciting the same story: no vehicles, no visitors, nothing unusual.
Adrian's frustration grew. He thanked them, then made his way to the drop-off area, hoping to examine the tire tracks in person.
But when he arrived, the pavement was spotless. No sign of the tracks from the photograph. Someone had cleaned the area, erasing the only physical evidence he'd found.
The System chimed in. [Case Board Update: Scene has been tampered with. New note added to photograph.]
Adrian knelt, scanning the ground for any overlooked clues. Nothing. Whoever had cleaned the area had done a thorough job.
He stood, scanning the surroundings. Across the street, a small café caught his eye. A security camera was mounted above the door, aimed at the sidewalk. It didn't face the drop-off area directly, but it might have captured something useful—a passing vehicle, a suspicious figure, anything.
Adrian made a note on the Case Board:
• Potential Lead: Café across the street has CCTV. Check footage for possible clues.He straightened, determination hardening in his chest. The case was far from over. Someone was hiding something, and he was going to find out what.
As he walked away from the scene, the System's interface hovered at the edge of his vision, the Case Board alive with possibilities.
For the first time in years, Adrian felt a spark of hope. He wasn't just the Detective of No Success anymore. He was a player in a new game—and this time, he intended to win.