Adrian's thoughts spun out of control as he sped through the city, the world outside his windshield a blur of neon and rain. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched in frustration. How had he missed the trap? He replayed every step, every conversation, searching for the moment he'd been outmaneuvered. The killer was always a step ahead, and now Officer Lin was missing—possibly in mortal danger.
System: Adrian, I know you rely on me, but you're still human. Mistakes happen, even to the best.
The words echoed in his mind, both a comfort and a sting. He wanted to snap back, to blame the system for not warning him sooner, but deep down he knew it was true. He was only human, and the killer was exploiting every weakness, every blind spot.
The city lights flickered past as he navigated the wet streets, windshield wipers beating a frantic rhythm. The security firm where Dave Caldwell worked was about thirty minutes from the precinct, but every red light, every slow-moving car felt like an eternity. The timer in his mind ticked down relentlessly—5:15:35 left. He pressed harder on the gas, weaving through traffic, desperate not to waste another second.
When he finally arrived, he barely slowed down as he flashed his badge at the front desk. The guard, a young man with tired eyes, pointed him down the hall to a room on the right. Adrian's shoes squeaked on the polished floor as he hurried, heart pounding in his chest.
Inside, Dave Caldwell sat at a table with a couple of officers. The room smelled faintly of coffee and disinfectant. Adrian's eyes swept the space, searching for Officer Lin, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Officer Lin?" he asked, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice.
A policewoman turned to him, her badge reading Vernalyn Silk. She looked up from her notepad, concern flickering in her eyes. "She wasn't here when we arrived, Detective. We haven't seen her."
Adrian's stomach dropped. Fooled again. He turned to Dave, voice tight. "Did you see Officer Lin Reyes at all?"
Dave shook his head. "No, sir. Haven't seen her."
So Lin never came here. She was out there somewhere, alone—and in real danger. Adrian felt a cold sweat break out along his hairline.
System: Running a quick check—Officer Lin Reyes, 24. Top of her class at the academy, best in marksmanship, spotless record. She was even featured in the paper as a promising cadet.
Adrian's anger simmered, threatening to boil over. He was being played, and every time he thought he was getting closer, he realized he was just following the killer's plan. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
He needed a new lead. Fast.
"Damn it!" Adrian shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. The officers looked up, startled, but he barely noticed. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.
System: Maybe try Timeless Fix. There could be something there you missed.
Adrian nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and headed back to his car. The drive to District 6 took about an hour, the timer ticking down to 4:17:20 by the time he pulled up outside Timeless Fix. The city had grown darker, the rain heavier, and the streets nearly empty. He parked under a flickering streetlamp, the shop's neon sign buzzing in the gloom.
The shop was closed, even though the sign in the window said "Open 24/7." Adrian tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. He thought about kicking it in—he was strong enough—but that would just leave the place open for anyone to walk in and mess with evidence. He hesitated, glancing up and down the street, then made his decision.
System: With your Intelligence maxed out, you can pick the lock in seconds.
Adrian pulled out his lock picks and got to work. The metal was cold and slick in his hands, but his fingers moved with practiced precision. It only took a few moments before he heard the click and the door swung open.
He stepped inside, gun drawn, senses on high alert. The shop was quiet, shadows stretching across the floor. The air smelled faintly of oil and old metal, and the tick-tock of dozens of clocks filled the silence. He moved slowly, checking every corner, his footsteps muffled by the worn rug.
The shelves were lined with clocks of every shape and size—grandfather clocks, pocket watches, cuckoo clocks, all ticking in a strange, discordant harmony. Adrian's eyes scanned the counters for any sign of recent activity: a half-finished repair, a forgotten tool, a clue left behind. But everything seemed in order, almost too neat.
Suddenly, the front door banged open behind him. Adrian spun around, gun raised, heart hammering in his chest.
A stocky, muscular man stood in the doorway, looking just as surprised as Adrian felt. He wore a heavy coat, rainwater dripping from the hem, and his hands shot up instinctively.
"Name," Adrian demanded, not lowering his weapon.
The man swallowed, eyes wide. "Jude. My name's Jude."
"Jude Francois?" Adrian asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yes," Jude replied, voice a little shaky.
Adrian didn't waste time. He moved in, cuffed Jude, and marched him out to the car. Jude tried to resist, but Adrian's strength made it pointless. The rain pelted them both as Adrian pushed him into the back seat, water pooling on the floor mats.
Once Jude was in the back seat, Adrian read him his rights. "You're under arrest for the murder of three people and for replacing their hearts with clockwork mechanisms."
Jude's eyes went wide. "What? You think I'm the Clockwork Murderer? I wasn't even in the country! I was supposed to come back next month, but I came early because I was worried about my stepbrother."
Adrian frowned. That didn't add up. "Paul Albates said he saw you a week ago."
Jude shook his head, looking genuinely confused. "No way. I can prove it—check my tickets. They're in my wallet."
Adrian hesitated for a second, but after their earlier scuffle, he knew he could handle Jude if he tried anything. He reached into Jude's pocket and pulled out the wallet. Inside, he found a set of flight tickets, the paper still crisp.
System: Scanning ticket for authenticity...
System: Ticket is genuine. No signs of tampering.
Adrian's eyes drifted to a family photo tucked behind the tickets. Jude stood next to his mother and another man—Paul Albates. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Adrian stared at the photo, realization dawning. "Wait… this is Paul Albates. He's your stepbrother?"
Jude nodded. "Yeah. Paul's my stepbrother. He's the one who gave me the ticket for the trip."
Adrian let out a short, bitter laugh, rubbing at his eyes as a tear slipped down his cheek. He'd been played—completely and utterly fooled by the very people he thought he was closing in on.
He sat in the driver's seat for a moment, the rain drumming on the roof, the city's lights blurring through the windshield. The system was silent, as if giving him space to process the humiliation and anger swirling inside him.
He thought about Lin—her sharp eyes, her steady aim, her quiet determination. She was out there somewhere, and he'd wasted precious time chasing shadows. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the pain grounding him.
System: Adrian, setbacks are part of the process. You still have time. Refocus and adapt.
He took a deep breath, letting the words settle. The killer wanted him off-balance, chasing ghosts. But he wasn't done yet. He wiped his face, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb, determination hardening inside him.
As he drove back toward the precinct, Adrian replayed every detail in his mind. Paul Albates—quiet, unassuming, always in the background. The perfect person to slip under the radar. And now, with Jude's alibi confirmed, the pieces began to shift into a new, more sinister pattern.
He glanced at the timer—still counting down, every second a reminder of what was at stake. He wouldn't let the killer win. Not this time.