The rain in the city didn’t wash things clean; it just turned the grime into a mirror. Detective Shino Fragile leaned against the cold bricks of the alleyway, watching the blue and red lights of the patrol cars dance across the puddles. She adjusted the collar of her charcoal trench coat, her short, jagged hair damp against her neck.
They called her "Fragile" because she looked like she might break under a stiff breeze. She was lean, almost gaunt, with eyes that seemed too large for her face. But the nickname was a lie. She was made of tempered glass—impossible to scratch and sharp enough to draw blood if you handled her wrong.
"Detective Fragile? They’re waiting for you inside," a rookie officer stuttered, his breath blooming in the cold air.
Shino didn't answer. She stepped past him, her boots clicking rhythmically against the marble steps of the Bloom Estate. This wasn't just a house; it was a monument to ego. Roland Bloom, the man who owned half the city’s digital infrastructure, was dead.
The foyer was filled with the smell of expensive lilies and the metallic tang of fresh death. Shino moved past the forensics team, her eyes scanning the room with a hunger that made the other officers uncomfortable. She didn't look at the gold leafing or the priceless statues. She looked for the "glitches"—the things that didn't fit the story.
She pushed open the doors to the study.
Roland Bloom was slumped over his mahogany desk. He looked like he had just fallen asleep mid-sentence, his face resting on a stack of merger documents. Beside his hand sat a crystal tumbler with an inch of amber scotch remaining.
And standing by the window, staring out at the storm, was Ai Hitomi.
The CEO’s widow didn't look like a grieving woman. She looked like a masterpiece. Her black silk dress clung to her frame like a second skin, and her long hair was pinned back with a diamond clip that probably cost more than Shino’s yearly salary.
"Detective Fragile," Ai said, her voice a cool, melodic silk. She didn't turn around. "I’ve heard you’re the one they call when the truth is too ugly for the rest of the department."
"I’m the one they call when the lies are too expensive," Shino replied, her voice low and gravelly. She walked toward the desk, keeping a careful distance from the body. "You’re remarkably calm, Mrs. Bloom. Most people are screaming by now."
Ai turned slowly, her dark eyes meeting Shino’s with a chilling neutrality. "Roland lived a loud life, Detective. He deserved a quiet exit. I’m simply honoring his memory with silence."
Shino leaned over the desk, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the glass of scotch. In the low light, she noticed a faint, almost invisible residue on the rim—not a fingerprint, but a smear of something oily and translucent.
"The security system says you were in your private wing for the last four hours," Shino said, her gaze shifting back to Ai. "No one saw you enter or leave. The perfect alibi."
"It’s not an alibi if it’s the truth," Ai whispered, stepping closer. The scent of her perfume—white ginger and something cold—hit Shino like a physical weight. "But I suspect you’ve already decided I’m the villain in your little story."
"I don't believe in villains, Ai. I believe in physics. Cause and effect," Shino said, her hand hovering near her service weapon. "Someone put something in this glass. Someone who knew exactly how Roland liked his drink. Someone who knew the guards were on a rotating shift."
Ai smiled—a small, razor-sharp curve of the lips. "Then you have a long night ahead of you, Detective. Just be careful. In this house, the walls don't just have ears. They have teeth."
As Shino turned back to the body, a sudden, sharp vibration hummed through the floorboards. Her instinct flared—the same instinct that had kept her alive in the city’s worst wards. She didn't see a muzzle flash, but she saw the glitch: a tiny red dot of an infrared laser reflecting off the amber scotch in the glass.
She dove over the desk, tackling Ai Hitomi to the ground just as the massive floor-to-ceiling window behind them shattered into a million shimmering diamonds. A high-caliber round tore through the leather chair where Shino had been standing a second before.
The silence was gone. The hunt had begun.
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.