Archive of Our Own

There was a light drizzle when Hugin reached the street Lorin had led him and Ashley to—having briefly informed them of the Journalist's death, Grimm. The news came as a shock, because, one thing the lad was harassing him just yesterday, and now his death mirrored that of the Nameless Ashes Case. With it being a copycat out of question, he turned his attention to the more pressing problem: why Grimm?

Sure, journalists does have a vice of always stepping out of line and harassing others in pursue of truth—but that also earned them the virtue of being cautious. So why him, out of all people? Hugin had no choice but to put aside the mystery for now as he grounds himself to the present.

The smell of earth and something burnt reached his nostrils the moment they approached the alleyway. Many civilians had gathered in the scene, feeding their curiosity. Hugin, as a (formerly) renowned detective that he is, wasted no time in starting to investigate the locus delicti.

As he collected more and more of the evidences, it left him with no room for doubt about the charred corpse's identity. However, deep in his mind, the peculiarity of this case tells him that there are more to this than what meets the eye. But what piqued his interest the most is the presence of a suspicious substance near the body. Hugin couldn't quite figure out what it is without proper tools, so he'll need to get back to it later.

He then promptly looked around the area when he's done with the corpse, slowly connecting the pieces together. Even then, it was not enough to draw a conclusion. With a sigh, Hugin approached Lorin to share his findings.

By then, a figure, looking flustered amidst the crowd, caught his attention. They briefly shared eye contact before the man swiftly fled the area, assertively shoving people out of his way. Hugin followed without delay—with Ashley and Lorin falling close behind—making sure he doesn't lose sight of him. But alas, the man was quick on his feet. Fortunately, sets of footprints were left in his wake, and it led the Detective to their hideout.

The suspicious man tried to blend in with their peers—however, he cannot escape the perceptive gaze of the Detective. The thug retaliated, but was quickly shut down by the taller man, having shown a clear difference in their strength.

"Let me go!" The punkster grunted as he was pinned against the cold metal fence.

"What were you doing at the crime scene?"

"I was just taking a look-see!"

"A look-see? So why run away when you saw us?" Hugin asked again, suspicion steadily rising within him.

"Hah! So what if I legged it!?"

This was the last straw. Without hesitation, he twisted the man's arm as a warning, his patience worn thin by the constant evasion of his questions. At last, the punkster started to speak, recounting all he had witnessed. The confession sounded like music in Hugin's ears, all that chasing finally has something to show for.

Hugin didn't take long to locate the evidence that can vouch for the punkster's account, crouching in front of the high heel—there is no doubt that this belongs to the woman in the man's story. While inspecting it, he noticed a dark substance clinging to its sole, similar to that found on the charred corpse.

"There actually is a high-heeled shoe. He wasn't lying. Maybe a rich lady really did enter that alley." Lorin commented, sounding convinced.

Ashley subconsciously fixed her hair. "I... I fear this is all becoming rather overwhelming."

"Let's sort out the evidences we've gathered." Hugin suggested as he started to rack his brain for any possibilities. It took him a minute or two before he let out a hum, crossing his arms. "Hmm... Our current evidence points towards that mysterious woman killing Grimm with a high-temperature Reactor. She tussled with the punkster in her frantic escape, leaving behind a high-heeled shoe."

"Like something out of a fairy tale. A mysterious woman losing a shoe while fleeing…" Lorin mused as he scratched his head. "Sounds like a real possibility. I heard that Grimm enjoys writing scandalous articles exposing the aristocrats."

"There is a strange substance on the high-heeled shoe. I've seen this substance on the corpse, but I cannot figure out what it is…" Hugin pondered, turning back towards where they had come from. "I'll return to the scene and re-examine the corpse."

Soon enough, their hurried footsteps echoed in the empty, foggy street with Hugin's instinct suddenly telling him that there's something bad about to happen. He swallowed the bad taste in his mouth as they approached the crime scene once more.

"The body had disappeared!" Ashley exclaimed the moment they arrived, panic and confusion could be heard in her voice.

Hugin's gaze darted towards the place where the corpse were supposed to be, but found nothing, confirming the girl's words. Before he could even think further, the officers around them stiffened, body straightened up as someone approached them from the opposite direction.

It was a man clad in red and black—the meticulous uniform severely familiar in Hugin's eyes—and it was increasingly hard to ignore the fact that he personally, intimately know this man, immediately recognizing him even with the brim of his cap almost covering his topaz eyes. Hugin couldn't be more unfortunate to run into him here, out of all places.

Bloody hell… Hugin couldn't help but curse.

"I had it taken away." The voice echoed sternly in the alleyway, as if daring anyone to question his orders. He explained that the body Hugin was eager to examine has been transferred back to the constabulary, and that he will be the one overseeing the case from that point on.

"This incident has attracted too much unwanted attention and is severely affecting our duties." His gaze landed on the Detective, sharp and familiar. "Those irrelevant to the case shall leave the scene at once."

"B-But… we are no mere bystanders!" Ashley retaliated. "The Chief Inspector himself invited us to assist!"

The officer's eyes quickly darted to the Chief Inspector, looking for any verification of the girl's words. Hugin had heard enough. Just as he was about to step forward, Lorin stopped him, the gesture indicating that the man before them was no ordinary officer.

"This is Rex. He's the Superinten—"

"No need to introduce us, Lorin. We are familiar with each other." Hugin cuts him off, his tone suddenly clipped as he shoots a sharp glare towards Rex. "Very well, in fact."

That earned him a frown from the Superintendent, clearly upset at his words but said nothing… yet.

"O-Oh, is that so? How come I have no knowledge of this?" Lorin stammered with his eyes wide open, shocked by the revelation.

"That's only natural. We already knew each other before he was appointed in the River Constabulary," the Detective explained, but evidently has no desire to say anything further.

"Huh. You said something about familiarity? What's the relationship between y—" Lorin continued to press for an answer, momentarily forgetting the superior officer before him.

A low grumble then escaped Rex's lips. "I need you to give me a work report."

"O-Of course. You shall have it at the first opportunity…!" Lorin said, his pitch higher than necessary.

Without looking back, the Chief Inspector followed Rex back to the constabulary. The two left stumped in the alleyway, unable to investigate any further.

Hugin couldn't help but raise a brow at the Superintendent's choice not to lose his cool in front of them; the man would usually talk anyone down by now once they said something out of line. He guessed that he got lucky tonight, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Surprisingly, it was Ashley who spoke up first. "This complicates matters… the body has been removed, and now the Navy is involved," she said, conveniently ignoring what had transpired just now. Hugin quietly thanked her mentally.

"It seems like the Superintendent wants us to get off this case. What should be do…?" she continued, worry evident on her face.

The Detective only shook his head. "Don't listen to that man. He may seem threatening, but he knows me—and I'm sure he's well acquainted with how I do things. He wouldn't be able to stop me from pursuing this." He paused, taking a moment to calm himself. "But remaining here will get us nowhere. Let us head back for now."

Hugin isn't about to get intimidated by someone from the Navy, not when he's still far from the truth. The evidence he had in hand unquestionably tells him that the body is Grimm's, but his gut tells him otherwise—and he's usually never wrong about it.

There are three possibilities why criminals uses arson as a modus operandi; either they simply enjoy it, it's convenient, or it's an attempt to conceal something. There have to be a feasibility of the latter taking place, but—ugh! The constabulary just had to interfere. Asking them nicely for an autopsy won't do him any good, since he's "officially" taken off the case. He knows Lorin would do something about it, but he doubts it will end in success.

Ashley then tried to distract him from the case, bringing up the "Mystery of the Stolen Silver" while they wait for an update. The Detective had been thinking about it for a while now, but all the answers he had come up with was shut down one by one by the girl. Honestly, it baffled him—he's already running out of ideas for the conclusion and needs more evidence. He thought hard, trying to come up with something, before his mind unhelpfully drifted towards the case once again, his primal urge to know the truth as a detective is ever burning with no way to settle it.

"Do you have other ideas?" Ashley had asked, looking at him with clear conviction. But when the Detective took a second to reply, she called out, "Master Detective?"

Hugin turned his attention towards the desk where a picture of him and Munin sits, and for some reason, was suddenly hit by a short, sharp pain in his head. He lifted his hand to his temple as though it would ease the throbbing, quickly shaking his head.

"Apologies… I…" he muttered deliriously, earning a worried look from the other.

"Have I not been clear enough with my mystery? I can go over…"

"I'm heading to the constabulary."

"Huh? Why?" Ashley let out a choked gasp, whether surprised by the sudden change of subject or by his declaration, he doesn't know.

Hugin simply walked over to the desk as he dismissively waved his hand. "Grimm's case is an unusual murder using extremely high temperatures. A characteristic shared by the Nameless Ashes Case. I cannot afford to ignore it. I must meet with the Superintendent and impress upon him the gravity of this case, and secure my involvement once more," he supplied, his voice stressing on the word Superintendent. "And should he oppose me… I shall see to it that he changes his mind."

Hugin wasted no time in summoning his steed, its hooves clacking sharply on the cobblestone as it brought them closer and closer to the constabulary. Despite the building turmoil in his mind, the city continued to operate the same way: cheerful and peaceful. The market was packed, the preparations for a festival were all over the place, and a crowd gathered around a troupe putting on a show. He can't say he's fond of crowded and loud places (briefly remembering the day of Munin's death), but the sight where plenty of merry, innocent citizens gathering together makes his heart swell with delight.

Having seen and heard much, he'll never truly go back to the person he once were before he became a full-fledged detective. Not that he regrets anything, no, as he is truly passionate about his profession. But sometimes, he can't help but feel envious of those with pure innocence and intention. He wondered, does that person thinks the same way? They may have disliked each other, but deep inside, Hugin still wishes him well.

Or so he thought.

"You again," Rex said with such an infuriating voice that made Hugin want to hit him square in the face. Forget about wishing him well—he needed to get this man out of his sight as soon as possible.

As expected, Lorin wasn't able to do much about their situation—of course he couldn't! This was the Navy they were talking about, after all: a stubborn, bureaucratic nightmare that had always got in his way, even back when Munin was around. The sheer nerve of them, accusing him of interfering when they were the ones making a mess of everything. Hugin quickly bit his tongue, smothering the curses threatening to spill out. Picking a fight with the most powerful law enforcement agency is a luxury he couldn't afford.

"Chief Inspector Lorin… As a member of the constabulary, please look to the propriety of your decorum." Turning his gaze to the said man, the Superintendent scolded with such calm that is far more intimidating than any display of anger. "I thought I had made myself clear in stating that what you just did is a transgression, given that you didn't officially hire this man to assist us on our current case."

The Chief Inspector forced a smile, turning to face the officer as he smoothly explained himself, "A simple misunderstanding, Superintendent Rex. I was just venting to a friend, given the recent pressure on the force."

That earned the Detective a sceptical look from Rex, clearly not buying the excuse Lorin shamelessly laid before him. But once again, he said nothing, instead staring intently into his eyes as if relying a message that goes along the lines of, "Don't get involved, I'm warning you." Hugin could roll his eyes at the gesture, but he didn't shy away from the insistent attention the other was giving him.

"Anyway… Head off. We'll grab a pint or two afterwards!" Lorin proposed as he followed Rex inside the building. And as if he wanted Hugin to hear, he thought out loud, "Bah… always picking at the small stuff, while the real issues get swept under the rug. We have a leaky second-floor window on the east side, and people sneaking into the evidence room. Nobody cares about that."

The Superintendent partially turned his head at that, shooting a glare at the older man from under his cap. "A leaky window? Take it up with logistics. You know full well I'm in charge of the patrols."

"At once. You're doing a stellar job, yes indeed." Lorin subtly mocked.

"Thank you…" Hugin whispered under his breath as he let out a sigh. He'll make sure that they get that pint, courtesy of his.

He and Ashley quickly made their way to the easternmost side of the building, spotting the open window that the Chief Inspector had mentioned. The Assistant questioned his resolve to infiltrate the constabulary, which he thought she had no point in asking. He need to re-examine that corpse, no matter what happens. So, after giving her an affirmation and task to watch his back, he used his grappling hook and pulled himself up, successfully entering the building.

It's well kept, nothing much had changed since his last trip here. The familiar smell of the institution hung over the air, making him realise that he really is back in Silvernia. He bent over as he easily navigated through the space, having memorized the layout like the back of his hand. If anything, the hard part about this is staying clear out of the many eyes littering the place.

He reached the evidence cabin in no time, which is markedly cluttered and dusty compared to the pristine office he had just passed by. It hardly serves a problem as he immediately spotted a safe with such intricate design, basically begging for his attention.

"Locked… hmm. Standard Chubb three-lever mechanism. Shouldn't be difficult," the Detective muttered to himself as he looked around for any clues of what might be the combination.

When he found a piece of paper containing a short rant of a constable and the information he was looking for, he couldn't help but think that the constabulary ought to be more careful with such sensitive information regarding their security. Not that he's complaining, though, it just made his job easier. Inputting the combination—1209—onto the safe, he realised: who the hell hides a piece of burnt human corpse inside a safe?

Hugin shook his head, he have no time to ponder for an answer as he quickly inspected the body. "The body's badly charred and in fragments… I can't take it all with me. Hmm… that left arm. There appears to be something there. Best bring it back for a closer look."

Making up his mind, he took the evidence and made his way down the stairs with the intention to exit the building through the main entrance. Though he couldn't help the quiet, disappointed sigh that escaped his lips when he spotted Rex seemingly scolding yet another of his people. He felt bad for those constables to have the unfortunate chance of having to work under that insufferable man. With no reason to get caught now, Hugin turned towards the left side of the lobby, briefly recalling the other way out.

"Over here!" Ashley called out loudly that made him wince, sure that he, especially his dogs, could've heard. "The Superintendent was just at the front entrance on his rounds, so I circled around to wait for you."

"Nicely done. You made the right call."

"Did you find the evidence?"

"Take these. Quickly."

At his urgent tone, the Assistant ran away without any hesitation, evidence in hand. The Detective's heart steadily pounded faster as he ran in the direction of the courtyard, and upon hearing a bark, he turned his head towards the roof. A Doberman—clearly not of the normal ones—ran across the roof before jumping down from such incredible height, leaving a familiar red crackle in its wake. He barked, growled and bared its sharp teeth, in which Hugin immediately recognized to be Radar. When he heard another set of threatening growl, he turned to see Chalky already circling around him, his hand flying to his holstered gun.

"I'm sure you understand… It's our duty to arrest trespassers." Rex voiced out as he appeared before him, walking slowly as he manifested his staff with that same red glow he had seen on Radar.

"We don't have to be enemies." Hugin tried to reason, hoping to find the familiarity they once shared in the other's eyes. Surely Rex, out of all people, would stand to understand why he did such a desperate thing.

"I'm afraid we're long past that. You broke the rules!" The Superintendent snarled harshly in a way that surprisingly managed to break his heart.

Did the gap between them really grow to this degree during his absence from Silvernia, after having their break up ending in a bitter note? He still remembered the night they argued: the drastic words they didn't mean to say, their non-existent emotional intelligence, and the disgusting lack of faith in each other. Oh, they were nothing but a pair of fool trying to understand the concept of love, embodying one another in the said notion as if desperate for comprehension.

"Chalky!"

Before he could react, the two Doberman had already sprinted towards him at their master's command, making him leap out of the dogs' way and activate his Reactor. The familiar, cool feeling of Silverium spreads on his right arm as he enclosed his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword, falling into a fighting stance. There's no getting away from this now.

Honed by years of combat—and fortunately familiar with Rex's combat style—Hugin didn't struggle as much as he thought he would. But that doesn't mean he could avoid pain altogether. Sparks flew as he parried the heavy attack of Rex's weapon, thunder rumbling in every swing the man makes. The Detective didn't waste the opening he had to thrust his sword towards his opponent, but of course it connected with the other's weapon and followed up with a series of resolute counterattacks.

While defensive, he almost got bitten clean off by Chalky when he jumped out of nowhere, his sword instead taking the attack—positive it would've flew out of his hand if it weren't for the support of Silverium making it nearly impossible to lose his grip. He hurled the dog away with all his strength and used the little time frame he had to whip out his gun out of the holster and shot a few rounds at both Chalky and Radar, which they swiftly dodged and lunged towards him. Chalky was thankfully driven away by the last bullet he had and Hugin responded to Radar's attack by planting his sword onto the ground and used his momentum to deliver a powerful kick.

Hugin didn't even had the chance to catch his breath as he felt a looming presence behind him, parrying the attack that would've landed square in his face. Their eyes met for moment before Rex promptly skidded away and turned into a flash of thunder, while he tried his best to keep up as he focused his vision in following the figure. In a blink of an eye, the weapon was already swinging down on him, barely giving him a chance to retaliate and the man used his centre of gravity to deliver yet another, more powerful blow.

The Detective let out a grunt as he held his place, but the Superintendent were just too much stronger than him, having gone through the rigorous training of the military and everyday drill. He noticed how Rex's smile grew as he slowly lose the clash, making him shiver—he forgot just how sadistic this man can be. Even so, he couldn't peel his eyes away from the sight despite the pressure bringing him down on his knee.

Rex's fingers curled inwards repeatedly in an attempt to taunt him, beckoning to attack once again. Hugin was now sure as hell that the man was enjoying this more than treating it as a crucial act of duty. He deliberately took a moment longer to stand up to collect his breath, his muscles aching from the sudden extreme exertion he had in a while. He watched as his sweat dripped down on the pavement, sight blurring for a second, his body shook from both adrenaline and pain as he sighed deeply, but then he thought he heard someone calling out his name.

He looked up: Rex held his position as he stared down at him, his expression were complicated in way Hugin would vaguely describe as a mix of anger and disappointment, but also some underlying concern? Ah—why, of course. His (currently) favourite toy had just break down after a few blows and is displeased—why did he even expect that he's worried? His mind must be playing tricks on him. So, with an intention to please the man, he forced to stand up on his feet. But, not even a beat later, Rex delivered a blow connecting his knee to his chin, the throbbing pain making him yelp.

That hurt, you prick! Hugin cursed as he collected himself, but the other was a second faster.

The Superintendent had detached his staff into two and choked him with one from behind, his hand instinctively flying to get it away from his throat. He could feel his vision dwindling from the assault but the moment a strangled wheeze escaped his throat, the truncheon was immediately lifted away but was followed by a kick right in his stomach. The Detective was sent flying on the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs and couldn't help the pathetic whimper spilling from his lips. He hoped he didn't broke a rib in the process, he'd like to avoid the nuisance of being injured while doing work, or in general, really. He don't think he have the budget to afford getting treatment in the first place.

They continued to trade blows, the fallen leaves were wildly scattered around by their scuffle. Sometimes Chalky and Radar would attempt to get him—and by that time realizing just how unfair this fight is—but the sun beating down on him wasn't exactly helping with his growing dizzy spell. By the second, he could feel himself getting more and more delirious and couldn't stop thinking about Ashley; did she get away? Is the evidence alright? He just want this fight to be over so he could get back to investigating the case.

He toppled over once and didn't hear the sharp, suck of breath the other made when he just focused on getting up. He can't afford to lose here, he doesn't want to get detained, he need to find out the truth, please, please, please, someone—!

"Sir, the werewolf who attacked the float has escaped!" A constable ran funny into the the courtyard, announcing the trouble that had popped up with a laboured breath.

"WHAT?!" Rex's eyes widened, his voice raised at the absurdness of the situation and Hugin could already guess what he was thinking.

"The stabiliser failed to work! It went berserk. We couldn't keep it down!" The officer continued to explain in hopes that the Superintendent would understand that he didn't want to report something so "trivial" to a superior officer either. Though nothing is trivial to Rex when it has something to do with law and order.

Rex shifted his gaze towards him for some reason and Hugin couldn't help the words that escaped his lips next, though he might've said it like he's drunk. "Let's leave it at that… You're strong, but your heavy weapon is holding you back—a nimbler combat style would suit you more." Those are the words that he meant to say back when he first saw the man in action. He doesn't know why he didn't manage to bring it up.

"… Are you seriously saying something like that in such state?" Rex said with a look of disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he walked towards him. "You ought to worry more about yourself."

Forcing out a laugh, Hugin struggled to his feet, nausea and dizziness hitting him like a carriage at full speed. Everything sounds muffled and the temperature suddenly dropped like the warmth of the sun were snuffed out. His body shivered involuntarily as he took a step, and another, before he helplessly tripped on his own feet. He bear himself for the impact, squeezing his eyes shut, but the pain didn't come. Instead, he felt a pair of strong, warm hands catch him, and regardless of whether he meant to, he leaned into the touch.

"Hugin!"

A muffled voice called out to him, immediately recognizing it to be Rex's. He forced to open his eyes to see a worried, panicked look on the Superintendent that looked horribly out of place that Hugin would've laughed at if it weren't for his current predicament.

"So cold…" the Detective deliriously muttered as he pressed himself further into the other's uniform, Rex's familiar scent filling his senses like a soothing remedy.

"Hey! Hold yourself together!" The other gently shook his shoulder but he could feel his hold tightening around him. The whine and sniffing of the Dobermans over his head caught his attention and he knew he couldn't afford to worry them any longer.

So, mustering all his strength, he forced out a ragged whisper, "Bring me… to Firtho…"

Rex didn't waste a second after hearing his request, the man's hand sliding underneath his legs while the other supported his back as he proceeded to lift him up. It was so sudden that his hand immediately flew to find purchase in a panic, but Hugin heard him whisper in such a soft voice, "I got you."

At that, the Detective finally let himself relax. He was bewildered that Rex would even listen to him, let alone speak in such a gentle tone—a kindness he hadn't been afforded even when he delivered the news of Munin's passing. Hugin opened his mouth to question him, but as his eyes slipped shut, darkness completely swallowed him whole.

The poor constable were forced to watch the spectacle before him, but realizing they don't have any more time, he spoke up, "Sir! What about—"

"I'll be right there, getting this man to the clinic is my priority!" Rex growled as he interrupted the constable's words, turning to his dogs. "Chalky, Radar, come!"

With a simultaneous bark, the two followed their master towards Firtho's place, leaving a stumped officer behind.

Tap, tap, tap, tap

There was someone running. Who was running? Judging by the sound, it must be a male, young adult and roughly six feet tall. He strained to listen for any other hint of sound before a laboured breath escaped his lips.

That's when he realised he's the one running.

And from what? Hugin doesn't know—he can't see anything; he can't see his limbs nor the path he's running on. But he continued anyway, desperate for any sign of light.

Before he knew it, the ground gave in under him, making him let out a surprised yelp. His hand flew over to shield his head from the impact, but his panic bleeds into curiosity the more he plunge into the darkness. He's been falling for some quite some time, so he used this moment to think; is he dreaming? He should be. Otherwise, what is the logic behind all this?

His Mind Palace is a deliberate cognitive construct, born of a detective’s analytical imperative to organize thought and dissect complex cases. That is something he can articulate. Dreams, however, are another matter entirely. Why does humanity dream? What does it contribute by playing scenes they can't do anything about? Why use strange symbols instead of just giving us the facts plain and simple? He wished he knew the answer.

Then, a sickening sound of flesh falling into the ground and bones cracking filled his senses.

"—Gasp!"

Hugin jerked violently in his seat, his vision adjusting to the sudden exposure to light. What a horrible dream. Did he just die? He tried his best to calm his frantically beating heart, a lingering distasteful feeling washing over him. At least it didn't hurt. More importantly, where is he? He promptly looked around, taking in the intricately designed room he was in. Every furniture and portraits was fancy and polished that he wasn't quite sure would suit his taste.

"Hugin?"

At the call of his name, he turned to the side to find Munin, her brows furrowed in a way that signify her concern.

"Are you alright? Did you fall in your dream?" she asked softly, placing a hand over his to ease his white-knuckled grip on the armrest.

"… Munin?"

"Yes?"

He blinked. Right, so everything up to now was just a dream. He relaxed his hand as he collected himself, wiping the cold sweat on his brow before fixing the top hat that threatened to fall from his head.

"My apologies for startling you. I'm alright. I just, as you've guessed, fell in my dream," he reassured, mustering a smile.

"Jeez, that's why I told you to turn in early." Munin crossed her arms, giving him a scolding look. "Did you stay up reading A Study in Scarlet?"

"I may have been," Hugin admitted, there's no point in lying in front of his sister-slash-detective duo. "The novel has a rich story that keeps you on your toes. You should give it a read once I'm done with it."

At that, Munin's gaze softened, mirroring her brother's smile. She couldn't help humouring him every time he offered something—so, with a nod, she simply answered, "Sure."

She then briefed him on their current situation when he asked her where were they, learning that they're invited to a reward ceremony from Her Majesty Queen Auguria herself for their contributions to airship development. It's all coming back to him—how could he ever forget such an important occasion? He subconsciously fixed his garb, making sure everything is on place.

"I believe they only prepared one medal," he brought up as they walked into the lobby, the ceremony five minutes from starting.

"How frugal. I suppose one of us can wear it in the day, the other at night." Munin suggested with a cheeky smile.

Hugin let out a light-hearted scoff. "Daytime's mine."

Their short banter were soon interrupted by a nearby commotion, a female knight trying to relay a warning to a pair of ignorant nobles. The siblings shared a knowing look; this smells like a job for an ol' pair of detectives. So, having no time to waste, they quickly assessed the situation and split the task between them, with Hugin walking down the carpet to receive the reward and Munin taking upstairs to investigate.

The latter couldn't help but let out a sigh, complaining that it's their first (and probably last) time to attend a royal ball and they already got tangled in some trouble. But they can't help the situation they're in, can they? Such the plight of a detective. Despite that, there's no doubt that they would want to get to the bottom of this.

Following the maid, Hugin entered the venue, his eyes quickly surveying the room for an anomaly. Looking for anything that would stand out in such lively atmosphere is an easy piece of cake, but when he found none, he directed his gaze to a private booth for the nobility's upper echelons. He's sure that whatever they're discussing there could be useful. He continued walking, the electrical power catching his attention—even with an elaborate design, it wouldn't change the fact that it would be a vulnerable spot if someone were looking to create chaos. Then the bow. It houses a Core Reactor, and the observation window couldn't survive a heavy blast. Both are safety risks. Satisfied with his observation, Hugin promptly relayed a signal with his hand that only his partner could understand.

He then breathes out through his nose, trying to shake off the dreadful feeling of déjà vu. It settled heavy on his chest the moment he woke up, but it's simply inexplicable. Why now? What is he missing? He could only continue moving, there's no logic in deciphering such vague phenomenon.

Then, not even a minute after, Munin's outline peeked from the balcony, replying with the same manner of hand signal he used, "There was indeed an explosive, likely smuggled through the nobles' entrance. Stay alert—the culprit is still at large!"

Hugin nodded in acknowledgement and started thinking, Around ten metres between the audience and the Queen and her knights… Too far for a would-be attacker.

"I have a plan. Be ready to adapt." He signalled back before approaching the throne.

"Step forth. Bow." The man who seem to be the Queen's secretary ordered, and Hugin simply complied. "In the name of Queen Auguria, you are hereby awarded the Silver Merit Order."

The secretary proceeds to hold out a blue box inlaid with gold to the Queen. She wore a light pink dress and white gloves made out of silk, golden hair groomed that has nice curls on ends, and an intricately designed Silverium mask sits on her face. She was a sight to behold, her presence exhibiting her royal ancestry.

"An award is a fine thing. But let me grant you something a little more practical," she said, reaching out to open the box. "Behold, a Reactor built by royal and UMI craftsmen. A unique fusion of Tide Knight gauntlet technology."

As she approached him, he dropped on one knee to receive it, the Queen fixing the Reactor just below his nape. "May this aid you on your quest for the truth."

"I am honoured."

"Detective… may you never forget the undying spirit that brought Silvernia such prosperity. One of wisdom, determination…"

Before the Queen could finish her sentence, a loud cry resounded from behind her, the supposedly secretary wielding a knife undoubtedly coming for her life. Without thinking, Hugin quickly moved the Queen out of the way as respectfully as he could, and acted like a shield between her and the security-turned-assailant. He then swiftly activated his Reactor and knocked off the weapon on the man's hand then pulled his arm to pin him on the floor.

"Your Majesty!" The knights ran towards them, taking over Hugin in restraining the assailant.

"I-Impossible…! Why hasn't it exploded!?"

"Looking for this?" Munin joined them, wagging the evidence of his plan right on his face.

"Blast it all! Outsiders can never lay their filthy hands upon our founts!" He struggled against the knights' hold, but it was futile. "Greedy reformists and UMI, you shall be the death of Silvernia!"

Compliments and shocked comments soon filled the venue, mixing into a white noise that Hugin didn't bother to tune out, the dreadful feeling growing more and more harder to ignore. God, he felt like puking from the sheer uneasiness he was sensing—it's like it was trying to tell him something.

"Move it!" The knight's warning caught Hugin's attention before he could think much of it, turning his head to look at the commotion.

The assailant seemed to be mumbling something before letting out a loud growl, throwing his head back as Silverium who-knows-how started to drip from his face, and some of it proceeded to fly towards them and into the Core Reactor of the airship. Not even a moment after, a gigantic humanoid figure of a woman emerged from the said core, which appeared almost harmless if not for the second figure grabbing its neck, the scene quickly turning violent. Patch of blue peeked from beneath the cracks of their body, which looked hauntingly beautiful, but he couldn't afford to stay still and admire right now.

The venue fell into panic as the two giants started to combat each other, commoners and nobles alike desperate to flee from the area, but some unfortunate souls flew in the air and got thrown out of the airship. He can't possibly save everyone, but he definitely need to save the Queen's life. However, almost as if fate were mocking him, she was grabbed by one of the giants.

"Your Majesty!" he uselessly called out as he reached out for her hand but were knocked back by some kind of "spine." He suppressed a growl, turning to Munin as he activated his Reactor. "Get them out of here!"

Thousands of thoughts crossed his mind in panic, but somehow his body managed to keep up in fighting some kind of "living" Silverium. Coordinating between his gun and sword, he eliminated those creatures one after another before moving to the two giants. They fought each other for whatever reason that baffled Hugin, but they also moved as one. It was a tough battle, his stamina rapidly decreasing from all the dodging and assaulting he'd been doing, but he doesn't even know if he's making some damage.

The moment the two giants joined together to form some kind of blue eyeball, his head felt like it's about to burst and couldn't help the sharp groan that escaped him. Munin, already long free from evacuating the citizens, shot a few rounds at it before Hugin realised—

"A weak spot!" Munin cried out, causing him to adapt quickly and charged towards his partner with an outstretched hand for a boost.

He flew into the air and stabbed his sword right into the very centre of the eye, dragging the weapon down to cut the Silverium formed between the figures. A cocoon like pocket of space spewed the Queen and he quickly reacted in cushioning her fall, his body taking the impact.

"Thank heavens! Ahh… Your Majesty!" The female knight from earlier sighed in relief, but it was short-lived when the airship shook. "The Core Reactor… We must shut the power off! The control room is at the back!"

The detective duo wasted no time to run towards the back, but their path were quickly hindered by those "living" Silverium from before. Hugin's patience were close to snapping, gritting his teeth as he swung his sword relentlessly before passing his gun to Munin. He couldn't hear anything but his heart, which felt close to erupting from the sheer speed it was pounding at.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it! Hugin chanted in his head as he parried an attack, but a vivid memory invaded his thought all too quickly.

It was Munin's dead body, limp against his hold.

Realising this, he lifted his head to meet a familiar figure with a candle for head from behind the crack of the door, the gun pointed at him. His body instinctively moved to shove Munin out of the way before her foolish choice of shielding him from the bullet plays out.

"NO!"

A loud bang rang out, but he still hadn't processed the fact that their bodies didn't collide. He whipped his head behind him, finding Hugin and Munin on the floor.

What…?

Hugin and Munin?

He felt himself shake, bewildered by the sight of him hyperventilating as fear consumed him. Blood spilled from Munin's eye as the airship were set ablaze, those "living" Silverium stubbornly keep getting up on their feet but he doesn't care. He looked down on the body of his dearest sister, completely shaken to process that she was shot dead.

If he weren't Hugin from the start, then who is he? He looked down at his hand—those are undoubtedly his. Tears dripped down from his eyes as he watched helplessly on the side, throwing up from the sight of such grotesque, vivid memory he'd rather forget. What is the point of reliving such scene if he can't do anything about it? This is why he hated dreaming. It's an ugly, ugly, ugly thing that gives him nothing but suffering. He need to wake up, he wants to wake up, he just want to get away from this…!

He watched himself charge towards beyond the door, anticipating the flash of light that engulfed him and everyone and everything in the airship as it exploded. Is he finally waking up? Like an unedited film, the display of blinding white into their familiar office at S.T.A.T.S. happened in such a blink of an eye, sudden and unforgiving.

"You're choosing to believe the mass rather than me?!" Hugin argued as he slammed his hand onto the desk, a pained look painting his face. "The Queen perished, but I saved her…! If it weren't… if it weren't for the fact that Evermore went up in flames, then…!"

"Enough, Detective," Rex coldly interrupted, cutting through his words like a knife. Hugin felt betrayed—they were lovers, and yet, he couldn't even place an ounce of faith in him. His mouth tastes like ash, staring at the Superintendent as he continued, "You were the only one who survived from the accident, and you're telling me you couldn't have done it? Let's say the cause of Her Majesty's death were indeed because of the Evermore crashing, that still doesn't eliminate the possibility that you orchestrated the whole thing."

Hugin flinched at the sight, his headache amplifying when he realised the dream were far from over. This was three nights after that day, with Rex only being able to visit now since he were swamped with work. He let out a trembling sigh, trying to tune out the argument, but it proved futile.

"Hah… Bloody hell, Rex! You're completely being unreasonable right now! You'd think I would compromise Munin and the civilian's safety just to assassinate Her Majesty?! Tell me why I would do such a thing in the first place…!" Tears swelled up in his eyes, both hands balled up into fists as if holding into his last remnant of sanity.

"We're still unclear of your motive, that's why I'm here to take you in." Rex announced with indifference as if he didn't just hammered the last nail on his coffin.

"W-What…?" the Detective stammered, finally losing his cool as tears fell. "Rex, you can't do this to me… M-Munin's dead… She's dead! And you wouldn't even comfort me? You wouldn't even mourn for her death?"

"Detective, I'm here on official busi—"

"Do you think I give an absolute fuck?! Answer me! Please… Please don't act like we're strangers…"

There was a pause between them, as if the Superintendent were debating whether to humour him or not. This small thing hurt Hugin more than he could ever imagine, he's not supposed to hesitate.

"… It was an unfortunate event. I do feel upset, but I can't let my feelings get in the way."

A guttural sob escaped Hugin's lips the moment he heard those words, momentarily losing his balance and caught himself on the desk. Rex gave him an answer, one that didn't satisfy him. It felt stiff, formal—like the man isn't capable of speaking from the bottom of his heart.

"Then… do you really believe I'm the one who killed the Queen? Be honest with me, Rex." He now sounded desperate, and maybe a bit hopeful—he loved him, after all. There's no way that Rex won't believe his lover's plea.

"I honestly don't know…" Rex started, voice still bordering on strict sternness. "But without witnesses to back up your claim, you're good as an alleged criminal walking around freely. We need to be thorough with our investigation."

"So you'd really arrest me just because of that?"

"I'm not arresting you yet, we still need to interrogate you."

"It's the same damn thing! What good is an interrogation now? What am I supposed to say when I'm the only suspect you're pinning?" He choked out, his hiccups making it hard to breathe. "Why are you acting like you're not concerned with this? Am I not your lover…?"

"Detective, let's not mix personal business with work, it's unbecoming of your position."

Hugin clicked his mouth shut at that. So this is how it's going to be. He'd never usually stoop so low as to disparage someone, but he really couldn't stop the words that escaped his lips next. He shifted his weight between his feet, nodding his head as though he finally understood the logic behind a complex case.

The Detective felt his heart drop as he reached this point of their argument, a wave of nausea washing over him once again. His whole body is too clammy, it's uncomfortable, but he can't do anything about it. How can his sensation so vivid in a dream?

"What did I even expect from a stuck-up person like you?" Hugin started after a while, voice clipped as it lost all emotions but suppressed anger. He watched as the Superintendent draw in a sharp breath at the sudden shift in topic.

"I must be a fool as to date such an insufferable, heartless, apathetic man from the Navy. Actually, do you want to know the truth? I never felt loved by you. I don't think I loved you either. It was so hard not to, because in my eyes, you were never Rex, you're just a Superintendent at the Navy—an officer, a hound of the law that never knew how to be lenient. In fact, I'm just a pastime to you, aren't I? I wouldn't be surprised if you—"

"Cease this nonsense! Do you even hear yourself?"

"I do, Superintendent, and trust me when I say I meant every word I spoke."

That was enough to stun the man into silence, staring at him as if he'd completely lost the plot, like he never expected that he would be hearing something like this from him.

With a huff, he continued with a tight voice, "I regret ever meeting you. If I had knew that you're going to be the bane of my existence, then I wished we never shared those bantering, those teasing, the knowing smiles, and stolen kisses. I'm too good for you, and I know I am, because I deserve more than this—more than being doubted by my own lover. Don't you see? Trust and understanding is all I ask for."

"So, I'll ask you once again—do you think I have it in me to kill Her Majesty?"

When Rex didn't speak nor move from his place, Hugin simply gave up and held his head low. He couldn't possibly make out the look on the man's face with his cap obscuring the view, but he decided he couldn't care less and instead prepared to leave: stuffing his gun into the holster, retrieved the secret stash of money they kept in the drawer, and put on his top hat. He briskly walked past the Superintendent without a word, but was stopped short by a hand on his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Rex questioned, tone low and threatening.

He pulled away from the man's hold, certainly surprised by how easily he had let go. He's glad to know he still had a bit of conscience.

"I'm going back to our hometown, I don't want Munin to be buried in a metropolis. She need to be somewhere peaceful and quiet," he answered simply, looking on their shadows on the wooden floor as moonlight shone down on them. "Don't even stop me, Superintendent. I won't hesitate to point my gun against you if it means getting out of Silvernia."

"It's just an interrogation, why are you so adamant about it? If you'd just formally make your account…!" Rex gritted out, he could feel his gaze drilling right into his head.

Hugin straightened himself as he shook his head. "You know, I wouldn't care if everyone had thought of me as the Queen's killer. I would've gone to this interrogation for all you want if you'd just… if you'd just tell me that you believe in me. Even if it's lie, I'd still do it."

A broken chuckle escaped his lips as his anger bleeds into sorrow. He wanted to see the reaction the man had, but he can't afford to look back now. He'll just look vulnerable in his eyes if he did.

"I hope you can find someone who can truly love you, Superintendent. And if you did, then show them the love they equally deserve, not like the shallow emotions you gave me."

He didn't wait for a reply, he just walked out of the room with a mind to intercept an attack if the man were to be complicated. But it didn't come, he didn't hear a single footstep nor a breath of sound coming from him. It was an unexpected turn of events, but he suppose this is better than having turned this building into a battleground.

Hugin watched himself leave, still reeling from the fact that he had said those words to Rex without thinking. It was harsh, but those words spoken in the heat of things had a hint of truth.

He turned his head to Rex, eyes widening as he saw the man with a pitiful expression he didn't manage to see back then. Jaw clenched, his figure shaking, and a bead of tear threatened to spill from his eyes.

"… Rex?" he called out before he could stop it, but were surprised to see the man turn towards his direction.

"Who's there?!"

Hugin drew in a breath as his eyes flew open, a familiar ceiling staring down on him. He felt a tear spill into the pillow behind his head, chest heaving in bewilderment but didn't had the chance to process what just happened when the harsh smell of disinfectant harassed his nostrils. The air were a bit stale despite the distant hum of an exhaust fan, and so drawing the conclusion that this is undoubtedly Firtho's clinic.

He reached to wipe the wetness from his eyes and sighed, feeling listless and heavy. He followed the small tube injected into him, finding a glucose drip close to depletion and just watched it without much thought.

What was that all about? The Rex in his dream isn't supposed to hear him, let alone acknowledge his presence. Hugin shouldn't be able to see what happened the moment he left in the first place as he didn't looked back. Could it be a fabrication made by his dream based on what he wanted to witness? Even if that were the case, that still doesn't explain the fact Rex reacted to his voice. Dreams really are incomprehensible.

"You're awake."

A familiar voice snapped him out of his trance, his gaze landing on the figure of the Doctor as she went inside the room. She looked the same as ever, donning a cream-coloured physician coat over a red high collar, citrine for eyes, and a beautiful raven hair tied into a neat ribbon bun.

"… Am I?" Hugin heard himself say, albeit a bit hoarse. This earned a curious look from Firtho.

She approached his bed with a hum, shrugging as she crossed her arms. "We'll see. What is the current year we're in?"

The Detective furrowed his brows. "Third year of Queen Feliana's reign."

"Who is your current assistant?"

"Ashley."

"The current case you're tracking?"

"The Nameless Ashes Case."

"Do you remember who brought you here?"

Hugin flinched at that. He's not sure why, but he did—distinctly remembering his scent, his strong grip, and the way his voice lowered into a gentle whisper. It's very unlike him, but it's very much real.

"… Superintendent Rex."

"Good. Welcome to reality. Quite the nightmare you had, huh? Shook you to the point you had trouble discerning dreams from reality, even only for a moment… I need to write that down." She mused, grabbing a clipboard nearby. If she noticed how swollen his eyes were, she simply didn't comment on it.

"More like a bad dream, really. A rare one, in a sea of nightmares." Hugin remarked.

The sound of pen scribbling on paper filled the quietness of the room. She paused for a second when she heard the comment, but the Doctor seemed to file the topic away for later. "In any case, you passed out from malnutrition and fatigue—which shouldn't had aggravated if not for a certain idiot getting into a combat with a certain idiot Superintendent."

"… I'm sorry."

"I don't need your petty apology. You disappeared for three years only to come back and greet me by being held unconscious by the Superintendent? You're lucky I didn't turn you into a test subject." Firtho made her displeasure very clear, her brows furrowed in turn. She got rid of the clipboard and crossed her arms once again. "And why hadn't I heard anything of your return? I had to learn everything from bloody Rex about your current situation."

Firtho was one of the few people who knew about the relationship between him and Rex. As a childhood friend and important colleague, she kind of earned that perk without much lifting a finger. Hugin is sure that he introduced both of them to each other, but they didn't seem to get along quite well—nudging him to raise a brow at how casually the Doctor had cursed the man. Or the fact Rex would relay information to her about him without ceremony.

"Since when did you two get close?" He heard himself ask before he could stop himself, diverging from the initial topic. "As far as I can remember, you two were practically water and oil."

Firtho rolled her eyes all the while snorting. "All sort of things happen in a span of time, Hugin. Do you really think nothing had changed in the time you'd been away?"

"…"

Hugin isn't sure how to reply to that. He knew nothing can stop the changes made across time, but he just couldn't contemplate the reason of how and why they had become close. When did it start? And who made the first move? He frowned as he shook his head, noticing the Doctor relaxing a fraction in his peripheral vision.

"If you really want to know, then you ought to ask Rex. It'll be unfair to him if I told you myself. You're bound to meet him later anyway—he told me to pass on his message that you meet him at his office at twenty-one sharp." Firtho announced unexpectedly.

He nearly cringed at that, making him sit up on the bed to reach for the pocket watch fastened on his waist, the hand reading nineteen thirty-two. He's been out for almost five hours.

"What makes him think I would go?"

The Doctor watched the action in wry amusement, moving to extract the needle from his hand now that the glucose drip finally served its purpose. "I also asked him about it. Do you know what he said? 'Because he would.'"

An indignant huff escaped the Detective's lips, mentally rolling his eyes as he could almost imagine the look on the bastard's face as he said that. "He really hadn't changed. Still the arrogant nutter I know."

A chuckle made Hugin look back up at her, raising a brow as she didn't immediately explained herself. When she left the room with the empty bag, he took the chance to push away his blanket and slip on his shoes. She then returned with an oat bar in hand, and so he stood up and gritted, "Firtho."

"Well, he certainly have a reason to be confident about it," she explained, smothering the laughter that threatened to spill. She promptly pushed him down back on the bed and he'd just let her without resisting. "It's because you threw up bile on his uniform."

"I— what?"

Mortification washed over him the moment he heard those words. The throbbing headache he'd been trying to ignore now amplified from the stress the information had given him. Did he really done such a shameful thing on a Navy officer? It's not like it's intentional, but still…!

He took a fistful of his hair as he closed his eyes shut, trying to come up with a way to apologise, but then he realised—this is Rex they're talking about. He technically asked the man to bring him to Firtho, sure, but he didn't told him to comply. This is entirely on him. It's the Superintendent's fault that he got bile all over him for carrying him. Right? Right.

His mouth twitched as he forced a smile, taking the offered oat bar to distract himself with. "Whatever."

"You recovered from that quickly than I expected," Firtho said with a lilt of satisfaction, more on the fact that he didn't seem to have trouble eating.

"I can't exactly dwell on it for too long, can I? I've got bigger things to worry about."

He ate the bar in three successful bites and retrieved his coat and top hat from the nearby coat rack, though his Reactor and gun were nowhere to be found. He turned his gaze towards the woman who seemed to get his hint, but only tilted her head, beckoning him to follow.

They descended a flight of stairs to reach the autopsy room in the basement, the different smell of chemicals mingling in the air doing nothing but make his headache worse. The lighting is dim, too. Who knows what happens in this place, he doesn't dare to ask.

"About this… 'bigger things to worry about'…" Firtho dragged the word, her usual stoic face back in place. "Is it about this?"

She lifted the white cloth sitting on the surgical table, revealing pieces of charred pieces and soaked photographs he definitely recognize.

"Is this the evidence I stole? But how? I thought I had given it to Ashley." Hugin voiced out, bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

"You did, and that Ashley girl gave it to me. As for how it ended in such a poor state… she explained that she slipped during her flee, causing the remains and photographs to fall into a puddle." Firtho recalled as best as she could, tapping a finger on the surgical table. "What's more interesting is that Rex were the one who insisted that I do the autopsy."

Hugin's eyes couldn't grow any wider, shivering at the uncanniness of Rex's choice of actions until now. The man he knew wouldn't do such things, especially let a piece of stolen evidence fall into the hands of a civilian, even if they're a colleague of his.

"He didn't retrieve it? That's…" He paused, biting his lower lip. "Unusual."

"Right?" Firtho only shrugged.

"I still don't know what goes through that man's mind. He's really hard to read as ever," he said out loud before letting his shoulder drop. "What of my assistant?"

"That girl certainly is strange. For whatever reason, she stood away from the clinic, claiming that it makes her anxious. Must be trauma. She said she'll be waiting for you at your office," the Doctor answered, though it seemed she's still not done speaking, so he kept quiet. Frowning, she continued, "You ought to be more careful around her. I'm sure you know the risks of trusting someone you barely know."

"I do, Firtho. I hired her only because Lorin insisted. I understand your concern, but don't worry, she appeared harmless so far. If anything, she's been nothing but helpful." Hugin reassured, noting the fact that the other's frown didn't cease at all. He cleared his throat then, directing the topic towards the remains and photographs.

The woman remained silent for a moment before letting out a sigh akin to exasperation. She crossed her arms, doing idle gestures with her hand as she slowly paced around the room. She had stated that identifying the victim is nearly impossible, given she only had a piece of battered and charred arm and a few soaked photographs, but the next words she spoke was enough to prove his first suspicion. The corpse belongs to a male and is likely over thirty—that doesn't match Grimm's profile at all.

Hugin tried his best to suppress the smirk that threatened to bloom on his face and nodded instead, asking another question—what is the strange matter on the arm?

The Doctor answered in a straight and simple way: metal surgical pins. She interpreted that the victim likely had surgery after fracturing his arm at some point—the information might help if he were to find the identity of the victim if ever—but then she proceeded to drop a bomb on him: the cause of death.

"We found clear signs of arson at the scene. Are you suggesting that wasn't the cause of death?" Hugin voiced out as he turned his back at the woman, staring into a specific container in the medical cabinet. It helps him to think more clearly if he focuses on a single object.

"The victim's limbs lay straight in the photographs, rather than bent in a defensive posture," she explained, staring right into the back of his head. "This means that the deceased had no signs of life when the fire started."

"You're telling me that he was already dead before he was burned?"

"Correct."

The Detective fell quiet, he found the position of the corpse unusual as well when he first saw it, but couldn't point it out. He wondered if he'd lost his edge for being hiatus for three years, but then he remembered why—he was too fixated on the unknown substance near the body to give it much thought. This almost solves his second suspicion. As if on cue, Firtho brought it up.

"Oh, and I also found a viscous substance on the remains, containing no human tissue."

Hugin turned back at her, more so out of respect than routine. "A viscous substance with no human tissue? I found something similar at the crime scene. Can we figure out its purpose or use?"

Firtho let out a sigh as her arms fell to the side. "It must be identified on a proper laboratory table. Alas, this humble clinic of mine is not furnished for this task."

"Well, my office is, and it's already unpacked and prepared," Hugin said as a matter-of-fact, already turning to leave. "I should head back and start the analysis right a—"

"Detective, aren't you forgetting something?" The Doctor called out, shooting him an unimpressed look.

He raised a brow, but nevertheless paused to think as to what might be the reason to—ah. He only held out a hand, gesturing for her to continue.

Pleased with his ability to catch up fast, she started, "My cargo is stolen."

"What?"

"A mob of gangsters stole my cargo," Firtho repeated. "The gangsters usually loiter around the Dayfair Way intersection. Look around the place for clues of their activities." She added as an after thought, knowing he wouldn't dare refuse.

"Certainly. I'll go look for it," he answered easily.

"Hm. But do it tomorrow, you're still not in the best shape to fight. It wouldn't do me good if I let my patient pass out in an errand." Firtho then started going up the stairs without sparing him another glance. "Your Reactor and gun is in my office. Come."

He silently followed her into the office, glad to be out of the dim basement. True to her word, he quickly found the said items on one of the desks, retrieving it as he tried not to look around too much.

This is the first time she'd let him inside her office. For whatever reason, he's grateful to the Queen that she decided to be comfortable enough to do so—and honestly, it looked more normal than he imagined. His gaze then unintentionally flickered towards a picture frame; it was a picture of three lads, the one in the middle looked like Firtho and in both of her sides stood an almost identical purple-haired siblings. His heart melted at the sight, but noticing that he had stared too long, the other cleared her throat.

His attention turned towards the woman immediately, their eyes locking. Her expression softened a fraction as she heaved a sigh, mustering what seemed to be an awkward but genuine smile.

"Welcome back, Hugin."

The Detective lets out a tired sigh. He practically slept through the whole afternoon, and yet he doesn't feel like he'd been revitalised at all. He slowly stretched his body, still sore from the fight he had with Rex.

The results of the autopsy contradict the witness testimony. If the witness did not lie… then there is only one possibility. Hugin thought as he left the Corner Clinic, the city lights started to lit up as dusk started to grace them. He really wanted to return home and find out what could the substance possibly be and verify his hypothesis, but… no. Maybe he should really go home and forget about Rex's words.

"Master Detective! I finally found you!"

A voice no doubt belonging to a child called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He raised his head in time to see the familiar figure of the Paperboy he had helped before running up to him. If remembered right, his name must be Pixy.

"I tried visiting Chief Inspector Lorin but he wasn't at the constabulary! So I went to the Detective's Office to look for you, but you weren't there either!" The lad whined as he scratched his head.

"It's already late and yet you're still looking for me? Tell me what's happening."

"I can't help it, this is really important! There is someone I know," Pixy started, worry marring his face. "His name is Grimm. He's a journalist around my age. Brown cap, straw-coloured hair. Short. A person in the know told me that there's been another murder in the city. The victim happens to be... Grimm."

Hugin stayed quiet, unsure of how to reply. His jaw tightened—he already knew where this conversation was heading.

"Master Detective, you seem to know something about this case. Can you tell me if he... really died?"

There goes the golden question.

"Well…" He hesitated, hovering between answering truthfully and lying. Firtho had practically proved that the body were not Grimm's, so there's no reason to lie—but there must be a reason why the Journalist had done this in the first place. Can he really risk ruining Grimm's effort in staying "dead" by easing a lad's anxiety?

He shook his head before he could be fully aware of his decision, watching the Paperboy's expression lit up at the hint he gave.

"Thank goodness!" Pixy smiled as he pressed a hand over his chest, soothing his heart. "I knew that cunning dodger wouldn't die so easily... He still owes me plenty of tips."

Hugin hopes he did the right thing. But seeing relief wash over the other made his heart warm in turn.

"Master Detective, there's something... it could be really important," the Paperboy started after a moment, his voice lowering into a whisper that beckoned Hugin to lean closer. He lowered himself to the lad's level, careful not to miss a word.

"Just yesterday, Grimm secretly told me that he was investigating a super important case on his own—he even found the 'key evidence'!"

"Key evidence?"

"He didn't tell me what it was, but just yesterday, he told me that… He hid it in the 'safest and most unthinkable' place!"

Hugin then stood up, resting his chin on his fingers as he absorbed the information—this is a huge thing! He had seen Grimm messing around in S.T.A.T.S., so there's a possibility that it's the "safest and most unthinkable" place the lad mentioned. And the "key evidence"… imagine what sort of things he might learn!

"Master Detective, this is all I know. I hope this titbit can help you out! If you find the truth, please get it published in the papers!"

The Detective only gave him a nod. "I'll let you know once everything is solved. For now, you should be heading home."

"Alright, see you!" Pixy said as he ran towards east.

With that, he bid goodbye to the lad with a wave. Determined than ever, he moved to summon his steed and head home before some constables patrolling the streets caught his attention.

Ah.

Right, he should be meeting up with Rex… He reached for his pocket watch and read the time—it's only twenty sharp. He grumbled, what is he supposed to do for an hour? Hugin glanced at where the River Constabulary stood, having a debate in his head whether he should really go or not. In the end, he swallowed his hesitation and walked towards the building.

He asked the receptionist for the direction of Rex's office (as it's his first time looking for his office at the constabulary—when did he even got appointed in this agency?) and thankfully knows where it is. He quickly thanked the woman before climbing up the stairs, casually passing by the halls he'd sneaked by earlier.

It didn't take long before he stood before Rex's office. He stared at the door for a good minute as if it personally offended him before he collected himself, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. He confidently raised his knuckles against the door, giving it three consecutive knocks.

A beat later, he heard Rex's muffled voice beyond the door. "Enter."

That's his cue. He pushed open the door as Rex twirled towards him on his seat. And, of course, the man shot him a surprised but intimidating glare.

Hugin shouldn't had came here. He's regretting the fact that he even considered in the first place. So what if he threw up on his uniform? He doesn't owe him one. If anything, he owe him a million for tolerating his nettlesome arse. There's no way someone finds him other than being a menace.

Anyway, judging by how spotless his uniform looked, he must've had changed into a spare ones. Good for him, good for him. He wondered what Rex might've done if he didn't had one—that would make a good humiliation material.

"I'm sure I had made myself clear to Firtho that you come here at twenty-one, not an hour early." Rex tapped a finger on his desk, definitely had a raised brow to demand an explanation under that cap.

Hugin intentionally closed the door him a tad bit too hard as he mentally huffed at the man's words—he's an hour early! He doesn't know what could be wrong with that. The Superintendent really is good in finding fault in harmless things.

"I'm not sure what's the problem—you're here, aren't you? And my home is five blocks away, I couldn't bother riding my steed to make the trip there and back. I am a very busy man, and what I'm doing is being practical," the Detective explained, making sure that the man get what he's trying to imply.

Judging by the indifferent look on Rex's face, either he didn't got the message, or he simply didn't care. In any case, that prompted him to stand up and face the window behind his desk, clasping his hand behind him out of habit.

"What if I wasn't here?" he suggested.

"Simple. I would've returned home and forget about the meeting," Hugin answered curtly, crossing his arms.

"Oh, would you now?"

"Yes. Really."

"I suggest thinking about your answer again, Detective."

He clicked his mouth shut at that. This isn't even about his uniform—it's about the fact that he had helped him, and Hugin hates how he actually owe him one. Even when he convinced himself that he couldn't care less… he blames his benevolent heart. Damn him for using it as a leverage, though. Conceited prick.

"… I heard from Firtho that I threw up on your uniform."

"You did."

"I'll wash it."

He watched how Rex visibly freeze at his proposal, this outcome clearly not in his calculation. Hugin can't help but feel proud, but he didn't expect those words that escaped his mouth either. He suppose this came as a surprise for both of them; he's not about to show it on his face, though.

Rex slowly turned his body to fully face him, wearing a subtle sceptical look. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why?" Hugin asked almost immediately.

"Who knows what might happen to it."

The Detective's right eye twitched at that, is he really pulling this bullshit right now? He's not in the mood nor have the time to go back and forth with this man. He let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Look, I'm trying to make it up to you, alright? I don't care about what you think—I can do something as simple as washing a single uniform. And no, I won't wear, tamper, burn, tear, sell, or whatever law forbids happens to a Navy uniform. Isn't that enough? Isn't that's why you called me out here for?" He snapped, daring the Superintendent to argue.

Rex fixed him a look, weaving away from his desk as he made his way towards him. He stopped short by the line between civil distance and his personal space—eyes glinting intimidatingly. Hugin almost wanted to run away, barely stopping himself from flinching when the man leaned in to whisper, "Not at all."

Hugin raised a hand to rub away the ghost of breath in his ear, watching the man turn away for the leather couch in the corner of the room. He sat on the leftmost space, resting his arm on the armrest as he allowed himself to slightly relax. He beckoned him to do the same with a curl of his index finger and Hugin couldn't find it in him to defy, forcing himself down opposite the man.

"Since you sincerely insist that you clean my uniform, then fine, I'll let you have the honour to do so." Rex started the moment he sat down, reaching for the document resting on the tea table. Hugin merely bit his tongue in order not to comment on his words. "But this is the main reason why I called you here."

Rex held out the document for him to take, heart rate spiking as anticipation washed over him. He hesitatingly took hold of it, glancing over the Superintendent's way before reading through the content.

Silence filled the room for a minute, Hugin's eyes widening the more he take in the information printed on the paper and even his initial annoyance at the man had melted away. He can't believe Rex would do something like this, but the fact that his signature is already penned were enough evidence of his approval.

"This is…!" Hugin exclaimed, looking back at Rex.

"Yes, it is what you think it is. This is a contract, officially hiring you to assist with the Nameless Ashes Case and its subsequent cases that may have a connection to." Rex practically confirmed as he looked away.

"I must thank whatever deity out there who managed to thaw that frozen heart of yours," Hugin said out loud before he could stop himself.

Rex opened his mouth then closed it as though hesitating, masking it with a slight irritation instead. "It's because you would still snoop around to investigate the case even after you get a warning from me. I'd rather not entertain the thought of arresting you if things got messy."

Hugin knew it was meant to be a lighthearted comment, but he still felt like he's been doused in ice-cold water. He had a feeling that all Rex's actions until now might be connected with the argument they had three years ago. Though he'd learned not too hope too much, he'll never make that mistake again. Hope is for fools. Maybe Rex had come to a realisation that he'd been a hardheaded somehow?

They fell into this awkward silence, neither of them dared to speak up. He doesn't know whether the Superintendent is even capable of feeling awkward or not, but he's confident that it's the former because he could quickly tell that the man is feigning indifference. He'd never seen the man doing idle gestures such as scratching a couch's armrest.

"How's Chalky and Radar these days?" he asked after a while, intending to break the ice between them a little. He observed how Rex's eyes lightened up at that, the topic clearly catching his interest.

Rex cleared his throat, schooling his expression into that of neutrality as he crossed his legs. Even so, he couldn't hide the tenderness in his voice. "They've been well. Chalky became more mischievous, still often eating things on the ground. He even ended up at the veterinary clinic once for consuming a piece of plastic. As for Radar, he behaved more rigid and sharper, and is always the first one to catch up to a criminal on a job. Despite their clashing qualities, I still cherish them both equally."

The Superintendent straightened himself, finally looking at him in the eye. "And… they both missed you dearly."

Hugin allowed himself to smile, the information warming his heart. "Do they now? It seems I owe both of them a bone."

"You can give it to them the next time you see them."

The implications struck Hugin hard. Did they just had a mutual agreement? This is him basically saying "Let's meet again soon," which he haven't even done after their first date! He only managed a stiff nod before he looked back on the document in his hand, rubbing his thumb on the corner. After a few seconds, Rex stood up and made his way to his desk, apparently retrieving something before he returned, holding out a fountain pen.

"Ah, thank you…"

Hugin reached out to take it, but for some reason, it feels as though he had got shocked when their fingers brushed against each other's. The pen fell from his hold but quickly scrambled to catch it, except Rex had the same idea but caught his hand instead. They stared at each other for a second before Rex retracted his hand in a blink of an eye.

"It is quite alright." Hugin reassured for some reason, setting down the document on the table as he flipped to the last page to pen his signature.

"… Why did you return?"

At Rex's sudden and straightforward question, the nib of the pen stopped short a millimetre from the paper. He adjusted his grip then, thinking of telling him to mind his own business before deciding to give the man a simple answer. If he's going to work with the constabulary, there's no good in provoking him.

"To find out the truth behind the accident three years ago. Specifically to look for the one who killed Munin."

He noticed the man tense at his words in his peripheral vision, but conveniently ignored it as he continued, "That was my sole motivation before Lorin sent me a letter, asking for my help in solving a string of serial arson cases known as the Nameless Ashes Case. Coincidently, the case had an evidence that piqued my interest—the fact that some of the bodies bear unusual marks similar to the bullet that killed Munin."

"What bullet?" Rex questioned, his tone a mix of shock and stress.

As soon as he finished his signature, Hugin joined the man in standing as he reached for his inside pocket and fished out the bullet he mentioned. He gestured for the other man to extend his hand, then unhurriedly pressed the object into his open palm.

The Superintendent wasted no time in scrutinizing it, burning the characteristics of the peculiar bullet in his mind as he raised it on his line of sight. "Roughly point five inches, pointed… strange marks on the body, and could only be shot with a revolver." He paused, turning it in his finger. "I've never seen quite like it in the Navy's list of manufactured cartridge—at least, legally."

"Hmm… So even the Navy has no knowledge of it, huh…" the Detective murmured, slightly dejected.

Rex stared at him for a moment before he proceeded to return the bullet to Hugin, fixing his leather gloves. "In any case, did you see the one who did it?"

"Yes, I—"

A burst of pain suddenly throbbed in his head the moment he tried to recall the appearance of the culprit. Even behind his eyelids, he could still vividly see the candle head and wicked grin—it's hard to forget, really, especially when it's been haunting him since three years ago. His nose scrunched up as he reached to clutch at his head, as if it'll magically ease the headache.

"Hugin?" Rex stiffly called out to him.

"I'm fine," he quickly raised a hand in reassurance, "just a bit tired."

"Are you sure? Y—"

A firm but unhurried knock interrupted Rex mid sentence, making him look up at the door. He cleared throat, his Superintendent persona setting back in place.

"Enter."

At his approval, the door swung open in time for Hugin to finish collecting himself. A constable, whom he suspected to be a newbie from how nervous he looked, raised his hand in a salute. "S-Sir! Apologies for the interruption, but the werewolf who attacked the float had regained consciousness! He's in interrogation room four."

"I understand. I'll be right there."

With that, the officer gave a rigid nod, closing the door and leaving as quickly as he came. Rex leisurely fixed his cap before he walked back at his desk to collect a paper bag, handing it over to Hugin.

"This is?"

"My soiled uniform." The Superintendent's lips then turned upright into a sadistic grin, his eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't go back to your word just because you've got a little headache, right, Detective?"

Hugin rolled his eyes at him, snatching the paper bag away. "Consider it done, sir. It'll be so squeaky clean you'll be able to see your reflection on it."

The Superintendent let out a humorous, quiet snort. "I'll hold you to that."

Bantering with each other… Just like old times… Hugin stared at Rex's back as he opened the door in one fluid motion and held it out for him. The man shot him a glare to hurry up and he just let out a scoff before following the man out of the room. But I guess he'd changed. Only a little.

"Be sure to report back tomorrow concerning your findings on the case," Rex reminded as he escorted Hugin out of the building, the chill breeze blowing past them.

"I understand, I'll stop by whenever convenient for me. I'm sure you're well aware of a detective's plight, considering you're in a similar position, no?" Hugin fixed his hat, shooting a small smile at the Superintendent.

Rex's frown deepened, but he didn't move to make a rebuke. He just gave him a simple nod before going on his way, leaving Hugin alone in the entrance with his thoughts. Tightening his hold on the paper bag, he left the constabulary, taking an unhurried but steady steps.

Well then, it's time to go home and test the mysterious substance… Hugin summoned his steed in an open area and smoothly mounted, taking flight into the night sky. From above, Silvernia looked like a sea of light, mirroring the stars in the sky—it's quite the lovely sight, it's a shame no one's here to take it in with him. Maybe he should show Ashley next time, given that the girl is not afraid of heights.

Thinking of it made his mind wander to a certain man. Is Rex afraid of heights? There's a good chance that he's not; but is he even the type of person to appreciate little things like this? What does he consider beautiful? What does he enjoy other than spoiling Radar and Chalky? Thinking about how little he actually knows the man made his heart clench. Then again, they've only dated for four months, and Rex is an enigma in a way that Hugin can't seem to fully comprehend.

Hugin sighed, he doesn't have time for this. He forced his thoughts on recalling work-related things instead; the truth about the substance, his suspicion about Grimm hiding something at S.T.A.T.S., retrieving Firtho's cargo, and... He'll just count washing a Superintendent's uniform as work as well. Oh, he also needs to report back to constabulary tomorrow if time allows.

From the look of things, he didn't have a single moment for a breather—which was fine; he had come to embrace fatigue over his years as a detective. But he was sure to hear an earful from Firtho if she found out he hadn't earned proper rest, especially since he hadn't done a thing to ease his current pounding headache. He'd have to ask Alf to make tea the moment he arrived, praying for a miracle that she actually made it right this time.

Hugin then shivered, still tasting that nasty concoction of salt in tea on the tip of his tongue—numbing his taste buds long enough to ensure he wouldn't forget it anytime soon. He shook his head to banish the memory, letting himself bathe in the moonlight as the cool breeze seeped deep into his bones.

"Master Detective!" Ashley called out to him the moment he landed in front of S.T.A.T.S., relief washing over her.

"... Ashley, you're still here? You should've gone home for the night," Hugin said as he dismissed his steed, subconsciously fixing himself.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to do so knowing you're still out there, coming home in such a vulnerable state. What might be the cause for you to pass out?" The Assistant followed him inside the building as she questioned, watching him take a seat on the couch.

"Firtho said it's due to malnutrition and fatigue. I only have myself to blame." He offered a small, apologetic smile, looking around for the mop of pink hair. "I promise I'll take care of myself more thoroughly... In any case, where's Alf? Is she already asleep?"

"Alf is still awake, Master!" As if on cue, the Maid ran up to him from his right with a worried look. "Alf heard from Ashley that you passed out! Are you alright, Master?"

Hugin couldn't resist patting her head, his smile widening, hoping it looked more credible than forced. "I'm alright, Alf. I just need a light dinner and herbal tea to get my strength back. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Alf nodded her head vigorously, practically running into the kitchen as she answered, "Of course, Master! Leave it to me!"

Hugin and Ashley watched the lad's back disappear into the room before meeting each other's gaze. They exchanged a resigned smile, knowing what was coming next.

"... I'm sorry to ask, but can you look over Alf in doing her work? She can be a bit... clumsy."

"Of course, Master Detective. Please take the moment to rest and leave it to me and Alf."

With that, the Assistant shortly followed Alf in the kitchen, catching the noise of activity in the room. Only by then did Hugin relaxed, leaning onto the couch as he allowed himself to close his eyes.

Just a minute, before I get back to work… He thought, debating what task he should tackle first. Popping the uniform into the washing sounds like a good start, then testing the substance in the lab. And if time allows, he'll look for the evidence Grimm hid.

Suddenly struck with adrenaline, Hugin stood up from the couch and made his way to the laundry room, fishing out the soiled uniform from the paper bag. His nose scrunched up at the the pungent smell of his bile on the cloth and his initially suppressed embarrassment crashed over him, grumbling as he quickly tossed it into the washing and operated the machine. With that taken care of, he tried to shake off the accident from his mind and walked over to the laboratory room, taking a seat. He then retrieved the sample of the substance Firtho had given him from his inside pocket.

Hugin poured it into a tray, nursing it slowly as he did a quick macroscopic observation. "Grey. No obvious odour. And rather thick… This contains… mud… water… and one key substance."

Let's try a test by colour. He reached for a few test tubes before a pang of melancholy hits him when he remembered who made the set of detection equipment he's using now. Munin… Look at me, I'm finally using it again. It's really a great help.

He remembered how Munin taught him the different chemical reactions for a week without end, not stopping until he can recite every chemicals and outcomes by heart. It was an unpleasant experience, but now he's putting it into practice. He couldn't be more thankful for his partner.

With his experience, it didn't take him long to narrow the possibilities before he determined the truth behind the substance—a thickening agent.

"If mixed with mud and water... I see. A fireproofing agent. It can absorb heat and prevent fires from spreading," he muttered to himself as this practically verified his hypothesis. This is massive breakthrough, he'll make sure to include it on his report for tomorrow. He then wondered if he can bring Ashley along with him… It should be fine, right? She is his assistant, after all.

A knock on the door frame then caught his attention, turning his head to see Ashley standing right outside the room. "Master Detective… I thought I've told you to rest."

The slight disappointed in the Assistant's tone made Hugin feel a little guilty, but he's not one to make up excuses. "My apologies."

A soft sigh escaped Ashley's lips, holding her hands together in front of her. "It's fine, Master Detective. Anyway, dinner is served. Please come eat while it's still hot."

"Already? That was fast."

"Twenty minutes had already pass. You had lost track of time, doing what seems to be an experiment…?"

"Ah, about this…" He glanced over his work before standing up, joining Ashley outside the room. "I need you to come with me to the constabulary tomorrow. It's a little late to inform you, but I signed a contract with the Superintendent to officially work on the Nameless Ashes Case, including the case with Grimm's."

Ashley brought a hand to her lips as she gasped. "R-Really? That's wonderful…!"

Hugin nodded. "This saves me the trouble of sneaking around and avoid conflicts. The scope of investigation had also increased with the helping hand of the constabulary. With this, we're bound to solve the case in no time."

"That's true…" Ashley's smile faltered, reaching into her bangs to ruffle it rather than fixing it.

Noticing the gesture, his expression morphed into one of worry. He thought she would be delighted about the news. "Ashley…? Is there something wrong in what I said?"

"Ah… no! Of course not, Master Detective!" The Assistant quickly reassured, shaking her head fiercely. "It's just… I think I might be too exhausted to fully take this in. I'm sorry."

"Oh, pardon my ignorance… I didn't consider your condition, and it's already late at night. I understand." His frown deepened, taking in her appearance—many things happened today so it's only natural that she's exhausted.

"Thank you… Perhaps it's time for me to return home," she said, making a beeline for the front door.

He naturally followed Ashley, his conscience weighing down on him as he watched her back. "Maybe I could offer you a ride back home."

"There's no need, Master Detective," she said as she turned around to face him, her usual smile plastered on her face, "my flat is not that far, and your dinner would've gone cold by the time you returned. Besides, you need plenty of rest, don't you?"

Hugin smiled helplessly. "… Good point."

That elicited a chuckle from Ashley before bowing her head. "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Master Detective."

"Mm. Good night, Ashley."

He stood outside for a minute until Ashley's figure disappeared into a corner before letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She's an enigma, just like Rex, but significantly more easier to understand. The fact she didn't ask for a salary and only wanted him to solve a mystery… Odd as it may be, it's even more reason for him to put in more effort.

And what did Firtho say about her again…? Right, she seemed frightened by the idea of visiting a physician. There's no such thing as being afraid of something without a reason, so maybe there's more to Ashley's behaviour than he initially thought…

He shook his head, that's a mystery for him to solve later. For now, he should fill his grumbling stomach and rest for the night.

If the sun filtering inside his room is not the one to wake him up, it'll be his nightmare. Hugin shook awake drenched in sweat, tears in his eyes as he recalled the fading dream in his imagination. The contents of his nightmare quickly slipped from his fingers like sand—leaving him with nothing but the vivid image of his big sister. He let out a trembling sigh when his brain caught up to reality, wiping away the moisture in his eyes.

Hugin feel drowsy and heavy at the same time, but he knows himself well that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after being awaken by a nightmare. After a moment, he forced himself out of the bed and looked towards the window where the light of dawn covered the entirety of Silvernia.

It must be around five… He guessed to himself as he collected his things and made his way down, securing his top hat on his head.

Naturally, the first thing he did was make tea to help his body relax; it's kind of a routine by now that he could easily make it even with his eyes closed. He paired it with the overly sweet biscuits Alf had bought, trying his best not to gag—but he could say it's edible in the least.

Satisfied with his breakfast of three cups of tea and two biscuits, he was about to retrieve the Superintendent's uniform from the dryer when he realised he forgot to do so last night. He cursed himself out while hurriedly taking the cloth out of the washing and were hit with a musty odour he can't quite describe.

Just great. I need to wash this again… Ugh, and the wrinkles. I'm going to need to iron it. Hugin frowned as he redid the washing, finding himself foolish for forgetting something as simple as this. He just hopes the smell won't cling to it.

For the meantime, he'll just distract himself in looking for Grimm's "key evidence." He searched his memory for a clue, the lad was poking around in the kitchen before so it should be around there. He returned to the kitchen and inspected the cabinets one by one, looked beneath the hot fluorescent tube, and opened empty storage boxes… he turned up with nothing.

With Grimm's personality in mind… where would he hide it? He fell in thought, resting his chin on his fingers as he paced around the kitchen. The most dangerous place is also the safest place.

By the time that idea comes to mind, his eyes fell on the blooming hydrangea displayed right outside the kitchen. He couldn't help the gasp of discovery that escaped his lips, quickly walking towards it and poking for anything solid he could get his hand on to. It didn't take long before he was fishing out the Journalist's familiar notebook and opened it with haste, causing some photographs to fall down onto the floor. But what caught his eyes first is a photograph from the Nameless Ashes Case, with the name "Cinderella" written in cursive.

He stared intently on the name that he didn't notice someone else's presence by his side.

"Master? What are you doing?"

Hugin instinctively stumbled back from the voice, finding Alf with a curious look on her face.

"Oh, it's just you, Alf…" he said with an awkward chuckle. "You're already awake? I was sure that I didn't make much noise."

"Alf always wakes up at six, so don't worry too much, Master!" She assured with a bright smile, picking up the photographs that fell on the floor. "Who are those people?"

He took the photographs when the Maid offered it to him, putting it back in the notebook and shutting it close. "I don't know, but they might have something to do with the case I'm working on."

"Hmm… Alf doesn't know much about it."

"It's alright, Alf. I'll just leave the duty of protecting the Detective's Office to you."

"You can leave it to me, Master!"

He gave the girl a nod, telling her to eat breakfast as he checked on the uniform and placed it in the dryer. As he killed some time, he inspected the photographs that looked like a portrait of three gentlemen's—a well-dressed man, a man in a flat cap, and a doctor. The latter will be easier to find, but the first two would prove quite a challenge. Then there's Grimm's notes—the notes on the Nameless Ashes scene read like an amateur's observations and the file's titled "They Are the Cinderellas."

There's more than one...? Hugin thought, taking note of the Journalist's use of plural "Cinderellas" throughout. What does this imply?

He fell deep in thought, organising the ideas, evidences, and hypothesis in his mind. He let it consume him, surrendering himself to the wave of different possibilities—a line from a book then popped up amidst it.

"'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,'" he quoted, dedicating it to heart.

Hugin closed the notebook shut, putting it in his inside pocket as he went on with his tasks. He took care of the uniform, ironing the wrinkles thoroughly and sliding it into a plastic. He had hoped that he could take care of Firtho's cargo before Ashley arrived, but it seems she went to the office early for some reason.

He offered to treat her to breakfast but she politely refused, stating that she had already eaten. Hugin's just glad that she looked significantly better than last night. With that out of the way, he entrusted the uniform to her—obviously curious as to why he had it in the first place—but didn't dare ask.

Bidding goodbye to Alf, they rode his steed to the Dayfair Way, dropping Ashley off at the Old Tower before taking care of Firtho's request. He asked some gangsters regarding the cargo, but almost all of them paled when they heard the word "Corner Clinic," "Doctor," and "Firtho."

Firtho seems to have garnered quite a reputation... He thought to himself, curious about what Firtho did as to why they elicited such response. Oh well, he'll just ask about it later.

For now, he made his way to the gang's den, meeting their boss. And of course it turned into a fight! The gangsters had the advantage in numbers, but that wasn't a problem for Hugin—quickly knocking them off one by one. Thankfully, the boss was quick to surrender, holding both his hand in the air as he knelt on the ground.

"We surrender! The cargo is yours. Just take it and leave us..."

"Got a question for you. You stole Firtho's cargo yet you're so afraid of her. Why?"

"Firtho the doctor? She visits this place every night and nabs one of us... for her experiments!" The boss started, anger seeping in his tone. "Everyone who came back was a screaming wreck! Their nightmares wouldn't end! We run things round here, and we've a name to uphold. So we made off with her cargo—thought it'd put her in her place. Now we know we stepped on the wrong toes... We'll never touch her property again…"

Experiments? Regardless, I have the cargo—let's just ask Firtho about it. Dismissing the gangsters, he made a beeline for the Corner Clinic in hopes that their opening time haven't changed in the past three years. He got there in time to see Firtho pushing the doors open, ready to take in patients.

"Good morning, Firtho," he greeted when they met each other's gaze. "I got your cargo."

"Huh. I didn't know you'll deliver it so early." The Doctor crossed her arms, intently examining him.

"… I just happened to have a meeting with the Superintendent. I have to report my findings on the case I'm working on since I signed a contract with him to officially work on it," he explained, but it seems that wasn't the answer Firtho wanted to hear. He let out a quiet sigh. "Alright… I admit it, it's because of my nightmare. I couldn't go back to sleep even if I tried."

"Hm. It's getting worse now, huh?" she noted, more to herself than him. "Come. I need you to bring that down to the basement."

Hugin followed her with a nod, letting out a grunt of effort as he pulled it inside the building. "By the way, the gangsters told me that you were experimenting on them. What exactly is going on?"

"Experiments on living subjects? I don't have time for running those."

She explained that most of them were ridden with skin rashes and wanted to help them to build resistance to the infection. Apparently, the only route of administration is via subcutaneous injection—so she had to take hold of a few of them, restrain them to the bed, and administer the shots.

Thankfully, the spread of the disease has been contained.

Ah, no wonder… Hugin couldn't help but let out a chuckle the moment the Doctor finished explaining herself. It sounds just like her to petrify her patients, with the way she treats them. He put the cargo down on the floor with an undignified huff. "Is that so? They do not understand the treatment methods you employ. Such actions may cause them to fear you."

"Why fear me? I am the one helping them avoid the infectious rash." Firtho commented, oblivious to her eccentric way of handling things. "But you just reminded me how convenient it is to reach them. I have several new medicines, and I do intend to invite them over for a few trials."

"And they happen to be a most agreeable lot. You will succeed." He encouraged with a smile, tipping his hat. "Now if I may, I'm taking my leave for the constabulary."

"Hold on. Take this," she said, opening the cargo and taking one of its contents to give it to him.

"What is this?"

"A special type of stabiliser. It soothes the mind and suppresses recurring nightmares. I specifically formulated this for you, you know." Firtho informed as she looked away.

"When did you start making this? I never mentioned my nightmares before."

"You did."

"Even before three years ago?"

"Yes."

Hugin raised his brow, clearly not remembering the occurrence. Firtho sighed. "It doesn't matter if you don't remember—I'm a doctor. I can tell much simply by looking at a patient, for example, the pallor of your face."

He let out a hum. "Much appreciated, then."

"Hmph. Go on then, don't let me keep you here."

"Right. I'll take you out to dinner sometime, as a thanks." He promised before leaving the clinic to pick Ashley up, proceeding to head towards the constabulary.

Whether it's day or night, they always managed to look so busy. He already even spotted their Superintendent barking orders to a group of constables. Does he even sleep? He watched the scene with slight amusement before they made eye contact—as if Rex knew someone were watching him. His eyes quite widened, maybe because he didn't expect Hugin would show up early, but quickly recovered. He went on with his routine until the officers had scattered and walked over to them.

"Detective, I thought you wouldn't show your face until the end of the month." Rex started, crossing his arms.

Hugin scoffed at that. "I didn't say anything like that. I said I'd stop by whenever convenient for me—fortunately, nothing came up, so here we are."

"Hm." Rex merely hummed as his gaze fell on the Assistant besides him, making her squirm in the sudden attention.

"G-Good morning, Superintendent. Thank you for helping Master Detective yesterday…" She forced out.

"Don't mention it," he said almost instantly.

Hugin observed the two, they both seem to be walking on eggshells but he suppose it's only natural when they're still not familiar with each other. That's no reason for Rex to be starring daggers at the poor girl though.

"Stop that," Hugin asked, catching the man's attention. "You're scaring her."

Rex fixed his cap, hiding his gaze beneath the brim. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seriously…" the Detective muttered under his breath, unimpressed by the other's attempt to act clueless. Taking the uniform from Ashley, he held it out for Rex to take. "Here."

The Superintendent took it without much word, pulling it out from the plastic to scrutinize anything out of place.

"You used scented detergent?" Rex said after a moment, scrunching up his nose.

"Yes? Why?"

"…"

"What is it?" Hugin pressed, raising his brow.

"Nevermind… And it's even ironed. Impressive."

"Now I'm not much of a dirtbag to return a wrinkled uniform. What do you take me for?"

"I just complimented you, no need to get so worked up," Rex said with a huff as he folded the uniform and slid it back in the plastic. He then turned back towards the constabulary, expecting them to follow.

Hugin stared at Rex's back, he doesn't like his question being dodged, but he's not about to make a ruckus just because of it. He turned towards Ashley, giving her an apologetic smile.

"Don't mind him. He's just quite the… complicated character—he doesn't mean you harm." Hugin reassured, somewhat inclined to do so.

Ashley nodded, mustering a smile as she fixed her hair. "I understand, Master Detective. If you're acquainted with the Superintendent, then that means you trust him. I want to offer him my trust as well."

Hugin paused at that. He didn't mean to doubt the relationship between them but, does he trust Rex? Maybe he does in most cases, but other than that...

He looked towards the building Rex had disappeared to, swallowing the lump that had built up in his throat.

"I guess you can trust him in doing his job right; upholding the law and being objective. He's the best law enforcer you can possibly meet," he stated, more to himself as though serving it as a reminder.

By the time they reached the Superintendent's office, Lorin were already there, appearing relaxed on the couch. He practically lit up when Hugin entered the room, standing up to greet him.

"Detective! I heard the news from Superintendent Rex about the contract. Good for you, eh?" The Chief Inspector shot him a smile, patting his shoulder.

"Yes. I do believe this calls for a small celebration. Let's have a drink at the Memoir Bar soon—I shall bring Firtho along as well." Hugin returned a modest smile, feeling a gaze drilling through his head. He turned his attention to Rex who was standing just a few steps away from Lorin. "… And the invitation extends to the Superintendent too, of course. This wouldn't happen without your decision, after all."

Rex opened his mouth, surely about to decline but stopped short from vocalizing it. He closed his mouth, pondering before clasping his hands behind his back.

"I'll think about it." He decided. "But for now, what I want to focus on is your report for the Nameless Ashes Case."

A sigh escaped the Detective's lips. "Getting straight down to business, are we? Not that I mind." He cleared his throat and crossed his arms. "As we all know, Grimm's death directly mirrored the modus operandi of the Nameless Ashes Case. But in truth, the lad is not dead—we all got tricked."

"What?!" Lorin and Ashley exclaimed almost simultaneously, surprised by the revelation.

"You better be telling the truth, Detective," Rex warned as his gaze narrowed. "Stating such a huge claim… I hope you've read the contract thoroughly."

"Easy, Superintendent, I'm getting there." Hugin bit down his tongue, repressing another sigh. "Thanks to your request to have the evidence I've stolen go under an autopsy, it was revealed that the body was burned post-mortem, fully contradicting the witness who claimed to have seen Grimm on fire, screaming. Grimm is roughly Pixy's age, yet the autopsy identifies the victim as male, at least thirty years of age, so the burned body was likely not Grimm's. A fireproofing agent was found at the scene—they must have used it to make sure Grimm didn't actually burn to death."

"If that is true, then what really occurred in that alley…?" Lorin muttered, curiosity colouring his tone. He stared at Hugin expectedly, waiting for him to talk.

The Detective gave him a nod in turn, pressing his fingers against his chin as he closed his eyes in concentration. "Based on the evidence... I believe I have a general idea of what actually happened."

Slowly but surely, he constructed his Mind Palace, tuning everything out as he immersed in the familiar feeling of being extracted from his physical body. Doing it can be taxing, both mentally and physically, but he does it anyway. Firtho had already warned him regarding the usage of this peculiar ability, that he should use it only when it's necessary. But how can he not when a detective always thinks? This is the best possible way to not miss any details.

Sorry, Firtho. Hugin thought as he opened his eyes, the dark, purple-ish scenery greeting him like a vivid memory. He grounded himself on the sand as he constructed the crime scene to the letter, buildings rising from the ground.

"That alleyway is where the incident happened," He said, deliberate to be heard by those outside of his cognition. Illusions of two figures materialised as he approached the scene. "Late afternoon. Dusk. Grimm and a lady arrived here at an appointed time. The two concocted a plan. A plan to fake someone's death."

"Grimm didn't die, but we have a witness who saw it happen…" Lorin's voice resounded in the quietness of his Mind Palace, offering his piece of mind.

"Exactly. How could the death be faked?" Ashley's voice followed in agreement with the Chief Inspector.

Hugin took his time to list the certain points they should know, walking deeper into the alleyway as he did. "The fireproofing agent can insulate the user against heat—rubbing it on the body protects it from burns. Alcohol is the most easily acquired flammable material. And using a flame-type Reactor will leave some Silverium residue."

He then observed Grimm's illusion, putting all the points together. "Grimm places his camera and hat down by the side, and then applies the fireproofing agent to his entire body. His companion prepares the fuel and ignition device."

"But, before he 'burns to death,' they must wait for the witness. The witness who saw Grimm in flames is a nearby resident." Hugin crossed his arms, watching the crime scene change as he went on. "According to his testimony, he would water the flowers every afternoon at that time. They timed it precisely, igniting the fire just as the resident appeared. The witness saw Grimm on fire and fled in terror."

"But, like I've said, Grimm didn't die and it was all for show. The body was burned post-mortem, charred enough to conceal the victim's true identity. Therefore, the corpse is merely a substitute they prepared in place of Grimm."

"So... without that autopsy, we'd have been forever in the dark?" The Chief Inspector voiced out, still finding the truth behind this case unbelievable.

"Wait... Then something unexpected happened." Hugin turned his head to find another illusion had materialised. "The alleys in High Peers see little traffic... but you can never predict when a street punkster might wander into one."

Before Hugin could continue, a flash of headache came to him, making him wince as he reached for his temple. "This discomfort came quickly... Thankfully I have Firtho's stabilisers." He muttered to himself and reached for his inside pocket, fishing out the vial and took a quick gulp of the content. He shook his head, his blurred vision cleared in a second and he refocused on the scene before him.

"A street punkster heard something," he continued after a cough, "he entered the alleyway to see what happened."

"But anyone walking in would see something they weren't supposed to." Ashley pointed out.

"That's correct. They had already set up a perfect witness to see Grimm covered in flames. If this unwanted witness saw Grimm moving around after his supposed 'death'... everything they did would be a waste of time." Hugin looked forward to the illusion of the lady charging at the tramp. "To protect Grimm from being discovered, his companion immediately charged at the street punk without hesitation, using herself to block his view and giving Grimm a chance to slip away from the other side."

Lorin let out a hum. "And since no one saw Grimm after that, everyone assumed he'd 'burned to death'..."

Hugin nodded as he walked towards the mouth of the alleyway. "Nobody found out about the faked death, but the companion paid the price. During the scuffle... she lost a shoe."

Hugin sighed as he closed his eyes, the familiar smell of Rex's office welcoming him back to reality. Speaking of which, the Superintendent had been real quiet all this time—he can't help but wonder what might be going on through his mind.

"And that's likely what transpired," he said, finding himself standing just behind Rex. He must've moved subconsciously during his time in his Mind Palace. He met his eyes without much thought before moving his attention towards Lorin and Ashley. "Any questions?"

"Incredible…" Ashley complimented. "You described it as if you'd seen it happen yourself... Your fame is well earned, Detective..."

"Can't believe Grimm faked his death right under our noses! Faking your own death isn't without danger... but I still can't figure out why he would do it." Lorin followed, his comment is not without a tone of bewilderment.

"We do not have enough evidence to determine his true motive yet. But one thing is certain. A fake death... For what purpose?" Hugin turned his head towards the Superintendent, directing the question to him.

Rex stared at him for a beat longer before answering, "The Journalist aimed to convince others of his death."

The Detective offered him a small smile at that. "Indeed. Faking one's death becomes an option only when 'death' becomes a necessity. Grimm did mention he was investigating a big story... and Pixy claimed it was a case, not just a story." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "Perhaps... Grimm had become a thorn in someone's side... someone with considerable power. Why else would he go to such lengths to fake his own death? He could've simply hidden away, or taken a train out of town."

"Are you saying... he's being hunted?" Lorin suggested. "Then whose body is it? If it wasn't Grimm, we still have a murder on our hands. Someone got burned to cinders. Did Grimm kill a man and use the victim's body all to fake his own death so that he could escape?"

Rex let out a quiet huff that Hugin was certain he was the only one who heard, given their proximity. The latter raised a brow, but when the man didn't speak, he didn't bother to press him.

"There's not enough evidence to determine his identity." Hugin offered instead. "All we know is that he was a man in his thirties with a previously fractured left arm. And we still don't know who killed him."

Lorin crossed his arms and he furrowed his brows. "What about that noblewoman, then? Who is she? If she's an accomplice to Grimm's fake death... she definitely knows something!"

"Unfortunately, we know very little about this lady as well. Our only clue is the high-heeled shoe she dropped, which lets us estimate her height." Hugin rested his chin against his fingers. "A person's height is about seven times the length of their feet. Based on the size... she is slightly shorter than five feet and three inches."

"A needle in the haystack, as it were. Besides, not everyone's height matches that calculation... Do we really have to scour the entire city, trying this shoe on every woman, just like in that fairy tale?"

"Not yet. We have one more clue."

The Detective made a beeline for the tea table between the couches in the corner of the room, revealing the notebook he found earlier.

"Grimm's notebook!" Ashley exclaimed, recognizing the item.

Hugin only nodded in turn, flipping the notebook open and placed it on the table. Everyone gathered naturally around it and Lorin was the first one to retrieve the photo of the crime scene.

"This photo... No, impossible...! The constabulary have kept the Nameless Ashes Case strictly confidential!" Lorin stated as he inspected the photo.

Hugin didn't fail to notice how Rex's expression hardened at the fact. And for some reason, he found himself reassuring the man. He's familiar with how strict he can be with work, after all. "Though similarly framed, the photograph was taken from a different angle to the one in the police file. You know how journalists works, daring bunches they are—even if they had to go against the constabulary to do their investigation, all for a big scoop."

The Superintendent shot him a look that practically says "I didn't ask," but subtly relaxed anyway. Honestly, if he became more honest just like this, then Hugin would surely be able to understand him on a deeper level.

He turned his attention back to Lorin. "Anyway, We don't know how this connects to the Nameless Ashes Case. Yet it proves that Grimm faked his death. He'd planned in advance and hidden the notebook. What landed Grimm in deadly trouble is within this notebook."

They practically started to fall into a discussion about the evidences and hypothesis with the new lead Hugin presented. One would provide a question and the others would try their best to come up with a logical answer. They went back and forth for a while before deciding that they investigate the identity and whereabouts of the three gentlemen's in the photos. Rex and Lorin are responsible for the man in a flat cap, Hugin took the doctor's, and Ashley were left with the well-dressed man. He's not even sure if Firtho would help him again in the first place, but he guess he'll give it a shot…

Lorin and Ashley gave him a determined nod simultaneously before they moved towards the door, with Hugin following close behind them. Though he was stopped short by a voice before he could take a step out of the office.

"Detective—a word, please?" Rex called out to him, causing Hugin to look back at the man. He had this serious look on his face (when did he not?), but this time it has a tinge of worry—his interest was quickly piqued.

The Detective turned back to the Assistant, who was hovering outside the door. "Go on, Ashley. I'll join you soon." That earned him yet another nod from the girl before the door clicked shut behind him.

With only the two of them alone in the room, the atmosphere suddenly turned tense. Hugin couldn't think of a reason why would Rex ask for him to stay behind, but… he'll just have to wait and see.

"So? What's the matter, Superintendent?" Hugin said slowly, observing the way Rex looks at him.

The other then sighed as he slightly relaxed his shoulder, saying nothing else but an order. "Sit."

Okay… Hugin thought as he watched the man retrieve some kind of thermos flask, a teapot, a pair of teacups, and a tea caddy. By the time Rex had set it on the tea table, he was already seated on the spot he had occupied just yesterday.

"What's this all about?" Hugin can't help but ask, finding the situation questionable—is Rex about to invite him for some tea?

"Headache," Rex simply said as he sat opposite him, pouring hot water into the teapot and opened the tea caddy—ginger, Hugin recognized—the man pouring two spoonful. "Side effect of your Mind Palace."

Hugin gasped incredulously, his brows furrowing at the man's words. "I've never told you about my ability."

Rex shrugged, closing the lid as he let the tea steep. "Firtho told me about it."

"Right, because apparently you two are close now."

"And do you have problem with that?"

"No."

"I thought so."

The Detective crossed his arm as he leaned back into the couch, glaring at the Superintendent. The latter didn't much speak after that and they eventually shared the morning silence. In the meantime, Rex went through some papers, his expression staying blank the entire time—which is the total opposite of Hugin's state of mind.

Why is the primary question for everything he's thinking of right now. Why is he doing this? Why is he being like this? Why is he acting like it's his business? And Hugin thought he weren't keen about tea.

He must've said the last question out loud because Rex gave him a look, his face falling thoughtful. Oh, he wants nothing but get swallowed by the couch right now.

"You always went on and on about the different types of tea in the past, I guess it stuck to me." Rex surprisingly offered with honesty, setting down the papers on the table. "What? I don't think it's weird."

"… I didn't say it was." Hugin responded dumbly, blinking at the man. He then averted his gaze, subconsciously fiddling with the end of his shoulder cape. "Rex… what happened between you and Firtho in those years I weren't here?"

He's not sure what kind of look the man had on his face right now, but he could see him shift in his seat from his peripheral vision. Firtho told him to ask Rex directly, but maybe this is not the right time. Hugin understand—with the awkward relationship they have, maybe Rex's not compelled to answer him… Well, he's not that curious anyway—

"Firtho was pretty shaken about your sudden departure three years ago." Rex started, making him stay still. "Miss Munin's death, and the fact you didn't say goodbye… it overwhelmed her. She was sort of dispirited when I found her—I didn't know how to console her, just like how I couldn't do anything to soothe your pain that night."

Hugin drew in a sharp breath, guilt settling heavy in his heart. He knew how selfish he was when he disappeared without a word, and he intend to make it up to Firtho somehow. But what shocked him more is that Rex is admitting his fault. He didn't dare to look up, lest he cause the man to shut down.

"But I knew I just couldn't leave her be—I knew you wouldn't—so I always stopped by at her clinic whenever I could, despite the fact we don't really click together." Rex continued with a soft tone, clasping his hands together. "I brought coffee every time I did and she always took it without much word. I don't remember how long it carried on, but one day she just spoke up with a scoff, 'This coffee is too bitter for me.' And just like that, she offered her shoulder when I'm at my lowest—I'm sure it's just her returning the favour—but that was the start of our companionship."

The Superintendent concluded just as he reached for the teapot, pouring them both a cup. The incredible aroma of ginger tea wafting in the air encouraged Hugin to finally look up, finding the other completely disarmed of his persona and revealing the tender warmth hidden beneath. It wasn't vulnerable, no, it was courageous of him.

"Please, help yourself," Rex said as he slid a teacup his way.

Hugin stared down at his reflection on the liquid for a second before nodding. "If you don't mind." He brought it up to his nose, taking in the soothing smell before taking a sip and sighed in relief. "It's good."

Rex merely smiled at that but he quickly concealed it with a sip of his tea before Hugin could take a good look at it. He doesn't mind, especially when the man had been honest with him. The air between them gradually lightened, only accompanied by a sense of serenity.

"How goes it? Any leads? Hugin asked Ashley and Alf after a day, referring to their mission in finding out the identities of the gentlemen's in the photo. "Lorin is optimistic, and Rex is doing his best, yet the search will take some time."

"What of the doctor? Your contact's helping us out again, is she not? Like when she checked the remains!" Ashley voiced out, hopeful.

"Ah… well…" Hugin muttered as the image of Firtho's angry expression flashed in his mind. "Yes. She'll help out… I'm sure of it."

The girl nodded before her tone lowered in regret. "I'm deeply sorry, Master Detective… We've no substantial leads on this last photo."

The Detective quickly shook his head in reassurance. "You don't have much to work with; don't fret about it. Just tell me what you've found for now."

Encouraged by his words, Ashley started to speak up, "The background tells us little, but he's dressed to the nines. Suggesting that it's natural to him. No doubt a rich man."

"Rich man?" Hugin repeated, falling thoughtful. "Now, why does the phrase ring a bell…" He turned his gaze towards the girl who now averted her eyes. "A rich man. Much akin to the Mystery of the Stolen Silver... Mere coincidence, or...?"

Hugin can't help but feel suspicious at her demeanour. He had no reason to suspect her of something but he can't deny the fact that she's a little strange. Even more so when she quickly acted in diverting his attention away from her.

"Ah!"

Ashley turned to the lad. "What is it, Alf?"

"The bread! Alf knows that bread, Alf does!" The Maid excitedly informed. "Alf saw it out on the street! Round and fluffy. Alf thought it looked a treat! You can buy it on Felix Lane! But uh… Alf doesn't know the way."

He quickly shook his thoughts at that, smiling at Alf. "Thank you, Alf. Then we have a lead—let's go."

He summoned his steed just when he stepped outside, easily mounting it and extended a hand to Ashley. "Felix Lane is just south of my office. Shall we?"

She gave him a nod, allowing herself to be pulled up and mount the steed just behind him, her hands securely holding onto his shoulders. The moment she did, the steed proceeds to rush onto the cobblestone road. It was already evening when they set out so it was a little chilly and the city lights were already on.

It was a short ride, it didn't even take five minutes before they reached their destination.

"So many shops! We must be close! Where do we start?" Ashley asked as she jumped down on the ground, looking around.

"The photo shows the area in front of the bakery... Let's see if we can spot it nearby." Hugin commented while dismissing his steed.

Numerous shops stood high as they searched for the place, the aroma and display of pastries catching about anyone's attention, Hugin included. He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he appreciate eating cakes once in a while, especially when paired with tea. He forced himself to look forward, keeping an eye out for some kind of landmark based on the photo.

After a bit of walking around, he caught a triangular flag with red and yellow stripes in the corner of his eyes, just like in the photo. He breath out a sigh of relief when their search fortunately didn't drag that long, stepping inside the shop.

"Welcome to Wheaty Baker & Deli! Our goods are as fresh as they come, restocked twice daily!" A woman behind the counter called, her tone warm and encouraging as she served her customers. "There you go! We've a nice joyous soda almost ready now. Five minutes tops!"

Hugin approached the counter, keeping his tone courteous. "Excuse me, miss…?"

"Ah, I've seen you in the papers! Hugin, yes? Comoz is the name. Fancy seeing you in person!" She marvelled with open excitement, her smile practically beaming before her attention fell on Ashley. "Oh, and a friend of yours? You look rather lean. Choose something; it's on the house!"

Ashley in turn shook her head, declining respectfully. "That's very kind of you, but we're actually here looking for someone."

"Do you recognise this man?" the Detective quickly questioned as he raised the photo of the well-dressed man for the woman to see.

Mrs Comoz seemed to ponder about it for a while before letting out a gasp. "Ah! Sure, I do. Used to be a regular of mine!"

"Well, I'll be! You forget my name all the time, Mrs Comoz, but you remember him? And here I thought your memory was failing you!" One of the customers lightly teased.

However, she doesn't appeared to be offended by it. "Well, mainly because a short blond fellow came looking for him already, you see," she admitted.

"Short and blond... That's likely Grimm." Hugin muttered to himself. He turned his gaze towards her once again. "'Used to be a regular,' Mrs Comoz? Doesn't he come anymore?"

"Indeed. See, he had a scuffle with the blond fellow just outside and even knocked my bread over! A shame. That's the last I saw of him. His maid comes in his stead, these days."

Before he could speak up again, a voice came from behind him, startling his heart. "A loaf each of Joyous Soda and Salt Bread, as per usual, Mrs Comoz. Thank you."

"Ah! Speak of the devil!"

He turned to see a woman with a blonde bob cut, wearing a flat expression. Their eyes met but she did not react in such a way as to flinch. If anything, she seemed to be staring at what lies beyond Hugin's head, completely ignoring him. That's what he felt, anyway.

"Good day. Might we ask you a few questions, please?" Ashley spoke up first, beating him to it.

"Greetings. MISS Three Zero Six, at your service. How may I help you?" She said monotonously, lifting her skirt slightly as she did a curtsy before folding her hands in front of her.

"We'd like to meet with your employer." He answered straightforwardly.

Hugin certainly didn't miss the way her brows furrowed slightly, her tone changing into one of indifference. "And why, may I ask? He is awfully busy and isn't keen on unannounced visits."

"Umm… We would like to…" the Assistant stammered, now hesitant.

They've made it quite clear they're not interested. I need to find a way around this... Hugin thought to himself as he did a quick observation of the woman. She has a friendly demeanour but chooses her words carefully; she is no ordinary maid. Armed and trained for combat... No one would hire someone like that without a good reason... Something must be troubling him. And the accessories that she's wearing are far from cheap. Hiring her would clearly cost a tidy sum.

"We're here regarding your master's 'business.' His considerable assets have undoubtedly piqued others' interest, and he may well have incurred losses, hence the need for a maid who can fight." Hugin bluffed, hoping it'll work. He felt himself smile for good measure. "But all you can do is react; you cannot guarantee your master's fortune will remain entirely safe—unless... What if I told you I have a way to solve the problem at its root?"

Maid 306 seemed intrigued, walking right into his trap. Naturally, it all boils down to what everyone craves: the embodiment of greed—money. Dangle it in front of anyone, and they are bound to cave in.

Got her. Hugin fought off the urge to grin and to applause when Ashley realised what he's up to, quickly following up with a glaze of "reassurance."

"Detective Hugin's an expert in this field. Act now, and we may protect his finances while reclaiming any losses."

"Umm… Is that so... Then I shall arrange a meeting. I hope you can help him." Maid 306 announced with a nod. "He is working at the Royal Bank at present. You may enquire for Daniel Boulden at the front desk."

"Your loaves, ma'am!" Mrs Comoz handed over the paper bag to the maid, the woman taking her leave before them.

When Maid 306 walked out the building, Ashley let out a soft sigh as her shoulders relaxed slightly. She then turned to Hugin with a victory smile. "I thought we were done for when she first shut us down... But your quick thinking saved us there, Detective."

"You reacted pretty quickly, too. Instead of accepting defeat, find a way to get your foot in the door." Hugin returned the smile, tipping his hat towards Mrs Comoz as he thanked her for her time. "That's our lead. Let's head to the Royal Bank, posthaste."

Four Crowns Street is almost nine hundred metres away from Felix Lane, so it'll be only natural that they ride his steed and fly towards their destination. Fortunately, the Assistant is not afraid of heights, making everything easier for them. They shot up to the sky when he's sure that Ashley were holding him by the waist securely, he can't afford her falling into her death, after all.

Now that this happened, he can't help but think back to the other night, when he planned to show her the nightscape of Silvernia. Hugin's heart swelled with fulfilment when he could hear the girl's excited gasp and quiet interjection of awe, proving that the scenery was something she were yet to see. He didn't let the chance pass feigning nonchalance, taking in the (now) favourite view of his.

"Heavens… Four Crowns Street is so fancy!" Ashley remarked aloud, making sure that he heard her against the squall. "The latest products... be that fashion, books, Silvercraft gear... It's all sold here first."

Hugin merely chuckled in interest. "Quite the Four Crowns expert, aren't you?"

"Uh, it's… actually my first time seeing it in person." She admitted reluctantly, her voice now sounding so small. "I'd love to look around it properly… One day, when the time allows it…"

By then, they've arrived at the Finance Quarter. Despite the time already being late, plenty still gathered around the Royal Bank—almost all of them wore stylish dress and suits befitting of their status as being the residents of Four Crowns Street.

"They say thieves have their eye in the Royal Bank." He heard one of the residents say as he passed by, his chatmate excitedly correcting him that it's the Rogue who's behind it.

Something seems to have them all worked up. Hugin thought just when he spotted a punkster sneakily reaching for a man's pocket, his hand shooting out to grab his arm before he could think better of it.

"Thief!" A woman cried out.

The punkster clicked his tongue as he fished out a steel pipe, clearly ready to engage in a battle. "Hey, mind yer own business!"

Hugin doesn't even need his weapon to deal with this hooligan. He easily dodged the relentless swing of the man's weapon before disarming him with force, pulling his hands behind his back without remorse. Shortly after, a constable offered to take over and Hugin didn't hesitate in doing so, the woman quickly expressing her gratitude.

"Tch...! That Rogue runs free, while I get cuffed for nicking a few coins!?" The punkster called out as he thrashed around in futile.

Ashley joined his side once the coast was clear, holding her hands to her chest. "That Rogue is the talk of the town. Lots of rumours about."

"Let's focus on the matter at hand. The Royal Bank…" Hugin said despite the slight curiosity about the talk of this thief, making a beeline for the institution.

"Halt. No entry for you." The Bank Doorman sternly warned, blocking Ashley's way.

The Detective wasted no time to place himself between them, shielding her from the harsh treatment. "Why?"

"She's not our clientele, as is clear by her clothing. Letting her in would damage our image."

"Is clothing all it takes to spoil your reputation? How embarrassing."

"I am here on business and will be no trouble. I abide by the rules," Ashley said, standing up for herself.

"He can enter, you can't. Rules are rules. Leave if you don't like them."

Hugin was about to open his mouth to argue but Ashley spoke up first in reassurance. "Let it go, Master Detective. I'd hate for this to waste your time. Please go ahead and find Mr Boulden. I shall wait for you nearby."

"I will be quick," he said with suppressed anger, shooting the Bank Doorman a nasty glare that the latter conveniently ignored.

When he heads inside, fluorescent light shone down on him, making him narrow his eyes at the sudden change in lighting. In contrast to the situation outside, the bank were almost empty if not for the receptionists and few group of people talking in inside voice. His footsteps clacked against the tiles as he briskly made his way to a random open counter, wanting to get over this as soon as possible.

"Good day. With what may I assist you: Ounce deposits, bill repayment, loans…?" The Receptionist offered the moment he approached her counter.

"I'm actually looking for a Daniel Boulden."

"Another of Mr Boulden's clients? Counter One, to your left, please. Fill in your details and join the queue."

"Counter One… Very well."

Hugin is not a complicated person. He would follow instructions to the letter only if it'll serve him good, and he has patience. The woman told him he need to register his credit standing, sure, alright, he doesn't mind processing a little document. He went to Counter Three to do so but he had completely lost it when she started to list off ridiculous amount of the documents that Hugin is sure as hell doesn't have on his person nor he's confident that he has something like it back in his office. Maybe he overestimated his patience a little bit too much.

"To submit those, proceed to Counter Four, Lounge Eight, then VIP Suite Five—"

"Enough!" Hugin snapped as he took the paper from the woman, uncaring for eyes he had garnered at his cry. "Daniel Boulden, VIP Suite Two…"

He turned to leave for the room he'd just learned before he spotted the familiar figure of Maid 306, staring at him with an almost inconceivable amusement.

"Ah. We meet again. The master is receiving visitors. Follow me," she briefly said, taking the lead.

"You have wasted my time." He practically glowered at the maid, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.

"My apologies. Mr Boulden is a busy man, and only has time for valuable business partners."

Hugin bit his tongue at that, swallowing the scoff that threatened to escape his lips. He need to calm down lest he make a move the he would regret, though allowing himself to mentally roll his eyes for self satisfaction.

The moment they entered the room, he heard a conversation between two men. He recognized the tall, lean man as Boulden and the other must be his business associate: Vorsch, the owner of United Vormentum Works.

"A pleasure doing business, Mr Boulden. Couldn't do it without you!"

"It's all thanks to your masterful strategy! Everyone knows that, under the United Mining Industry, your factory is the true engine of profit." Boulden took the other's hand, giving it a firm shake. "Collaborating with you offers truly splendid prospects, Mr Vorsch."

Hugin masterfully tuned out the conversation as he looked around, his habit as a detective to do so never leaving him. He heard the maid that Boulden's meeting would conclude shortly but he didn't give her the satisfaction of his acknowledgement.

Boulden certainly seems to be in high demand these days. The papers on his desk are nearly spilling onto the floor, and even the coffee table for visitors is stacked full. While they're still talking... it's the perfect chance to take a look around. Hugin mused the moment the door closed behind him, drawing near coffee table.

The more information he takes in, the more suspicious he become. He already knew that Boulden is up to something, so he isn't surprised to learn bits of information that'll only fuel his suspicion towards him. Even more so when he picked up a letter that had been blew by the wind, openly reading it.

Dearest Association Head,

I'm not writing this to grumble over nothing, but the lads are properly done in. Lately, the company keeps piling on extra runs. They swore it was just for "emergencies," but now it's every bloomin' week. That roster on the wall isn't worth the paper it's written on.

Tonight it's the same story. Sudden orders for another train out of the city. No warning, no fresh hands neither. Just forcing the same tired crew back to the position.

It's been weeks without a day of rest. Carry on like this, and you're tempting fate; it won't end well. We urge the Association to take heed!

Concerned Boulden Railwayman

Boulden intercepted this letter, stamped with today's date... Extra railway services as of late. Tonight, too...

"I'm afraid that's my private correspondence."

Hugin turned to see Boulden staring at him with a faint scolding look. He easily lied, putting the letter back at the desk. "I merely noticed it had fallen and picked it up. I had no intention of prying."

"Oho, a new investor? A busy man you are. I shall be off, then," Vorsch announced before leaving the room.

Both him and Boulden watched the man disappear beyond the door before the latter spoke up. "Please excuse my earlier behaviour." He started, making his way to his desk. "Greetings, Sir, which of my projects are you keen on investing in?"

Hugin paused at that, analysing his choices. He could start asking about his projects, slowly gaining his trust, bring up the rumours about him being stolen from, or…

"Projects? How about we discuss the harm that befell journalist Grimm after meeting you?" He challenged, watching the man startle at his words. If he want to save time, being straightforward is the only answer.

"Excuse me?" Boulden questioned before he quickly recovered, he even had the audacity to cross his legs. "Wait… Ah. I understand now. You're no honest investor, but a detective. Then I shall cut this short. I don't know what you're trying to suggest. But working the streets like he did is unsafe to begin with. He sought information from me after my antique silver coins were stolen. I refused, and that was that."

"I hear they were stolen by the Rogue." Hugin offered as he moved to the man's line of sight.

"That is none of your concern," He stood up, clearly indicating that the conversation is over, "now, Detective, time is money. Please leave."

Did I choose the wrong call…? Hugin furrowed his brows, refusing to budge from his place. No, I should continue pressing him—

"Father! It's from the Rogue. He's striking the bank this very night!"

A teen ran inside the room with excitement, holding up a letter for Boulden to see. The teen called Boulden "father," so there's no doubt that this is his son. But what caught his eyes is the wax seal's design, making it out to be in the shape of a cross.

And for some reason, the room quickly became crowded in just a second.

"He's a master thief, they say… Is the bank safe?" A man, no doubt a noble, inquired.

"Withdrawing our money would be wise, no?" A noblewoman followed up.

"Fret not, friends! My three-digit maids are throughout this bank, each highly capable!" Boulden, of course, was quick to reassure. "Once closing time arrives, they shall remain through the night. Your money is safe and sound!"

"Guarding overnight against the Rogue... What a thrilling caper!" Boulder's son exclaimed the moment the nobles left the room. But apparently, he doesn't feel ashamed acting like this in front of him—that's teens for you. "Father, I shall stay too!"

"Shut it! This is no place for you. Off home, now!" Boulden scolded and turned to him, clearly annoyed now. "I am busy dealing with the thief, as you can see. Please leave."

I should retreat for now now… Hugin mentally sighed at that, feeling defeated. He made a beeline for the entrance and was quickly welcomed by Ashley's figure. He'd never felt so glad for her company.

"Master Detective! How did it go?"

"I met with Boulden, but was interrupted by a warning letter from the Rogue. He strikes tonight."

"From the Rogue? Did you see it? What was it like?"

Ashley asked a little too enthusiastically, but he didn't question it—recalling the appearance of the object. "White paper, red wax seal in the shape of a cross."

"A cross? How peculiar... Let me tell you what I found!" She informed, handing him over a newspaper. Where did she get this…? "I investigated the area, finding two letters from the Rogue! The first was printed here, one week ago. Shown with an 'X' wax seal."

"A match for the one the bank received just moments ago." He commented, not sure where she's going with this.

"That's the peculiar thing. Because... The second letter I saw was held by the police as evidence. Its seal read 'VI'!"

His eyes widened at that, the pieces finally clicking together. "Is that so? Then this case is growing clearer... Let us review what we know."

Boulden ordered the railway to add outbound services tonight, for reasons unknown. The armed maids guarding the bank are all privately hired by Boulden and answer to him alone. Pursuing this thief demands trustworthy allies. Yet Boulden immediately declined his own son.

The thief's letter warns that he shall strike the bank tonight. Its "X" wax seal is a direct match for that in the newspaper. While the letter held by police was marked "VI," the one delivered to the bank read "X." Just like the newspaper... Why is that?

In conclusion, the thief forged a letter from the Rogue, hoping to shift the blame. As such, the Royal Bank is on high alert—for the theft mentioned in that very letter is meant to take place tonight.

"Whoever wrote this thought the wax seal a mere pattern. Not a numeral marking the thief's total heists. They merely copied the seal pictured in the paper." The Detective pointed out as he tapped on the newspaper.

Ashley nodded in agreement. "We know the thief's sent ten such letters, at least! So there is no way this new letter would be marked 'X'!"

"Evidently, it is not the Rogue stealing the bank's silver coins, but a copycat."

"And the heist is tonight..."

"We shall watch overnight, and confirm our suspicions." Hugin suggested as he looked at the time on his pocket watch—the hands reading twenty fifty—and sighed. This could take a long time. Maybe he should take Ashley to dinner first, she must be hungry.

When he made up his mind, he took Ashley to a nearby restaurant and ordered the most modest and cheapest meal he could find on the menu—a jacket potato. It's not like he's lacking money, but he isn't stacked either. And all restaurants in Four Crowns cost a pretty penny—he knows from experience. So when Ashley ordered the same thing, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

"That's all? You should get more. What about pasta? Maybe salad, too."

"M-Master Detective! Please, don't worry about me. I'm still full from lunch." Ashley shook her head as she turned to the waiter. "Two jacket potato, please. And we'll be having water for our beverage. Thank you."

Hugin watched the waiter go back into the kitchen before turning to Ashley. "Apologies… I'll treat you to something better once I receive my pay from the constabulary. But seriously, you didn't have to hold back; I still have quite the sum in my pouch."

"It's fine. I don't really have a big appetite, so I get full from just eating a little! Seriously!" Ashley reassured as much as she convinced Hugin to let it go. At that point he could only nod, not wanting to go back and forth for such a trivial thing.

The Assistant let out a sigh of relief when he did, trying not to shift uncomfortably in her seat. She's clearly not used to such a formal settings and is well aware at the glance people are shooting at her. Hugin glared at them when Ashley wasn't looking and fortunately that was enough to mind their own business.

Their dinner were mostly spent in silence, only the soft clicking of cutlery against ceramic, hushed conversations, and quiet jazz music could be heard. It was quite the peaceful ambience and it helped him to relax a little. He's couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face when Ashley eventually did the same, watching her savour her meal.

"Your mystery, Ashley. It's oddly similar to the Royal Bank case. Was that on purpose?"

Hugin brought up the moment they reached the park's corner, hiding behind the statue for their stake out. It was already close to twenty two when they returned from the restaurant and there was a light drizzle much to their dismay—he could only hope they won't catch cold.

"No, it's a mere coincidence. The Mystery of the Stolen Silver… is but a riddle." Ashley answered as she stared at the edge of the statue, watching a group of ants struggle for a shelter from the rain. "Did you ever arrive at an answer?"

The Detective looked at her, worry and slight discomfort marring her face. He came up with a new theory just now and were about to answer her before he saw three… no, four people emerge from the Royal Bank. He quickly stick close to the statue, peeking from the corner.

"That's… a Royal Bank safe!" Ashley exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Alert the constabulary."

With a nod, Ashley sprinted into the opposite direction, leaving Hugin to confront the group. It wasn't hard to guess that it will turn into an inevitable battle, knowing that MISS maids are faithful bunch to their clients—leaving him wondering if they even have any sense of morality left. It's a little sad to think that they don't question the order of their client, but that what makes them a quality service.

Three against one is something he could handle, though with the current state of his body, he's not sure he'll left unscathed. But he had no intention to fight them in seriousness—he's just here to buy some time. Evade, parry, attack… it's a never ending cycle he had to go through until they all remained in a standstill.

"End this now," he tried to reason but never truly easing his hold on his weapon, "Boulden hires you, but you need not break the law for him. Where is he?"

"Detectives. Portents of trouble! Fine, fine. How much do you want? Name your price." Finally, the bastard shows his face, bringing up an offer to buy his silence. He must be confident he'll accept it with that smug look on his face. "Fifty per cent. I'll give you half of tonight's takings, consider it a token of goodwill. It's all cash, and yours for the taking immediately. I've sent the police away, and these maids are under my employ. This is between us alone."

Hugin would be lying if he said it's not tempting him. He'll be needing a huge sum of money to pay for his bills and necessities, after all. And he must admit: being a detective doesn't pay him enough to even cover a month's everyday meal.

When he took a second longer to answer, Boulden presumed he's not satisfied with his offer—going all in that tonight's money is his. Hugin found it laughable that this man thought he can buy him off with money when he's practically priceless, with his loyalty only belongs to truth.

Hugin stared at him dead in the eye. "No."

"Very well. Name your price. No matter the amount, I'm sure we can come to an agreement." Boulden forced as he pat his shoulder, which Hugin slapped away with ease.

"I just need one thing."

"Name it, whatever it is!"

"You. I'm taking you in."

Just then, he heard several footsteps surrounding them in quick succession, his heart betraying him with a thud when he heard Rex's voice from behind.

"Very good!"

He turned to meet the familiar pair of topaz eyes, regarding him with respect as he approached him.

"Superintendent! But…" Boulden stammered.

"Don't be fooled by the glib tongue of a criminal, Detective. You made the correct choice," Rex said with a hint of smile before turning his attention at Boulden, his demeanour doing a full one eighty. "You have been caught in the act, Daniel Boulden. Surrender!"

Boulden's eyes flicked in every direction in panic, perceiving every constables closing in. He clicked his tongue, barking orders next, "You, you, and you lot! Hold them back! Now!"

After that, he attempted to run, driving himself to one of the constables blocking his way. Hugin and Rex wasted no time to chase after him, leaving the others to deal with the MISS maids. Soon, the familiar barks of Chalky and Radar joined them in the run, heeding their master's call to catch up to Boulden. Fortunately, he didn't manage to go that far before they cornered him, with Rex's weapon pointed at the man in a warning.

"Heh heh! Money solves all, as you're about to see!" Boulden said with such pride as he stood up, feeling as though he had won. "Witness the might of the finest foreign maid! Maid Eight Three Four Five!"

At his call, a weapon fell from above to stop them on their track, which Hugin immediately recognized to be a shotgun with a bayonet fastened at the tip—he'd never thought he'll see such an old-fashioned weapon in this day and age.

"MISS Maid Eight Three Four Five at your service." A woman similarly dressed like Maid 306 appeared before them and cocked her gun. "I humbly present an imperfect ancient blade style. I welcome your guidance."

At that moment, Rex detached his staff into two, ready to engage in combat. He turned to Hugin for a second, eyes glinting. "Stay back, I'll handle this."

"What? But—"

"No buts."

With that, the Superintendent approached the maid with deliberation as if stalking his prey. Hugin is not under any obligation to listen to the man and yet he found himself standing still, his eyes glued to the man wondering what he might be thinking. He knew he's just looking out for him, but he can still tank a few hits even when he's a bit vulnerable. He just can't get used to Rex's consideration for him.

Rex moved with practice, fast and merciless. Thunder crackled every time he strikes, sparks flew as he grunts in effort. He can see how the maid struggles to find the chance to make a retaliation from how quick the man is moving but that made him realise that Rex took his advice to heart. Now that he isn't wielding his staff as his main weapon, the truncheons gave him more mobility and freedom to do more assault.

He was so focused on the man that he didn't notice that the maid had conceded until Boulden's outranged voice made him come to his senses.

"A four-digit maid does not accept defeat! Unacceptable! H-Hey! S-Stay back, you!" He shamelessly reasoned even when truth is already laid bare for all of them to see. Rex didn't bother to listen, restraining him on the ground. "This... this is for the project. An overseas venture! It concerns Silvernia's external trade! Those assets in the vault are mine! I'm simply moving them. Who are you to stop me!?"

Hugin shook his head at the audacity of the man. "I've seen your proposal. Empty words on paper—it's nothing more than a scheme for lining your own pockets."

"No, you're wrong! I've delivered returns... The nobles trust me because they've seen real profits!"

"So long as new funds keep coming in, the cash flow sustains itself, and the illusion persists. Yet the bubble was bound to burst." He took note of the gathering crowds, recognizing the nobles he had seen earlier. "So you orchestrated this came crashing down. 'Rogue' affair, hoping to flee with the money before everything came crashing down."

"What!? The project's a sham!? I-I'm pulling out!"

"I'm done with this, give me my money back!"

"To think we put our trust in you, you scoundrel!"

The nobles cried in ire, clearly finding Boulden's stunt outrageous. Hugin is sure that those people would have a hard time to trust any investors in the future, though he suppose this serves as a lesson to not just trust what anyone says.

Rex joined his side, ready to assure the people's minds. "Smuggling Silverium goods is a major offence. Boulden shall pay for his crimes."

"Our deepest apologies... This shan't happen again. We shall double our security measures." A receptionist was quick to follow-up with underlying distress, most likely because of the fact that Royal Bank just sustained a heavy hit in their reputation. He'll just leave it to them to take care of it.

Hugin watched as the constables take Boulden, feeling a sense of gratification and a bit of serenity. While he made the right thing, this didn't contribute much to the progress of the Nameless Ashes Case, less give him a new lead to pursue. But he's confident about the fact that Boulden has some kind of connection to Grimm's "death" somehow.

"Detective, I thank you on behalf of the River Constabulary." Rex stood before him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. Hugin took a second to blink, nodding his head rigidly that made the other frown. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm alright… just thinking," he answered without much thought as he dropped on his knees to pet the pair of Doberman gathering around his feet, not trying to fight the smile that bloomed on his face. "Good job, Radar, Chalky! You both get bones tonight. I suppose I owe it to you two, anyway."

"… Huh." Rex hummed as he looked down on him.

"Hmm? Oh, apologies. Are you returning to the constabulary? Right, your shift isn't over yet—"

"No." The Superintendent interrupted, making him pause and look up at the man. Hugin can't quite place what kind of expression Rex have but that didn't stop him from staring anyway. "I have a patrol at the Toroid Spine—they're holding a celebration for a trade fair. Maybe we can pick up something for those boys then."

"Oh." He stood up at that, brushing the dust off the front of his trousers. Considering his words for a while, he couldn't help but ask, "… But you're a Superintendent… you still do patrols yourself?"

"Unfortunately, I don't fancy sitting around in my office doing nothing but paperwork and overseeing operations, so yes, I still do patrols myself," Rex said with a huff which almost sounded like a chuckle… maybe it was. "In any case, I have to go ahead and see how things are doing. Am I to expect to run into you there?"

Rex stared into his eyes almost expectedly, falling in tense quietness. He's not sure if the man is aware that it's showing on his face, which was honestly kind of endearing in its own way—making him want to tease him if not for the current setting they're in.

"Sure," Hugin affirmed.

That elicited a satisfied hum from Rex, only nodding in turn before turning to the pair of Doberman. "Radar, Chalky, come."

I certainly didn't expect that… Hugin mused as he watched the back of Rex merge with the shadow in the distance, still lulling from the fact that Rex himself invited him.

"It takes quite a detective to elicit a grateful nod from that stone-faced fellow." Lorin commented as he playfully bumped shoulders with Hugin, his tone turning into a teasing lilt. "Or does he just have a soft spot for you?"

Hugin rolled his eyes that, a scoff escaping his lips before he could stop it. "Surely you jest. Superintendent Rex having a soft spot for me would be the last thing he'll think of." He moved his head in a slow shake as he crossed his arm. "Anyway, how goes your investigation?"

"Eager to change the topic, are we?" The Chief Inspector's smirk widened, causing Hugin to give him an unimpressed look in turn. Chuckling, Lorin raised his hand in mock surrender as he fished out the photo of the man, "Evan King: a fellow detective, and a rising star. Gained fame once you left. He has not been seen in some time, which may be a cause for concern. I have already sent for a search party." He stroked his chin as he recalled before his eyes lit up in realisation. "Oh, and some good news—that high heel is a style from several years ago, and exclusively hand-made. We have located the shoe store and are searching their sales logs."

Hugin couldn't help but smile; seems like he hasn't hit a dead end just yet after all. "Impressive work," he praised.

Lorin observed him for a moment, his gaze bordering in complication and curiosity. "Detective, what—"

"Chief Inspector!" A constable called out, causing both of them to look the other side.

"Alright!" Lorin quickly answered, his voice echoing in the almost empty street. He turned his head back to Hugin with a smile. "I must return to the office. Let us hope our luck continues, Detective."

"Wait, what were you about to say?" Hugin shoots before the man could take a step away.

Lorin hummed at that, debating whether to continue his words or not. Seems like it would be the latter when he just shrugged and waved his hand dismissively.

Come on, I was curious… The Detective pouted before he schooled his expression back to neutrality when Ashley approached him. He cleared his throat, meeting her gaze.

"Ashley…? You seem in high spirits." Hugin pointed out after a moment, eliciting a soft chuckle from the girl.

"I am indeed! You're absolutely trustworthy! Thanks to you... we're that much closer to the truth!" Ashley answered in a profound excitement, looking up to the sky. "That moneybags is in cuffs, and we're on the rising detective's trail... Soon, we shall find their link to the "Cinderellas Case"! What shall we investigate next, Detective?"

He paused at that, noting how pumped the Assistant is feeling right now. While the thrill of solving cases and doing justice is satisfactory, he wished that the girl would think of herself sometimes. He still haven't forgotten how the man from earlier had treated her, nor would he choose to ignore it. No one should be treated unfairly just because of clothing.

"Hold your horses. First, we've something more important to do."

Hugin had taken Ashley to Quadric Emporium, set on buying her new clothes. At first, she was a sceptical about it, even offering to wait outside, but that obviously won't do. He let her pick an outfit she like, buying her jewellery—a sapphire teardrop necklace—and camellias for flowers, as the florist suggested.

He might've been cheap at dinner, but he want to give her the nicest things he could. If anything, this is like an investment—no one would dare to question his Assistant now that she looks pleasing to the eye.

But honestly, he didn't expect her to look so dazzling he could go blind—especially with that honest, warm smile. He can't help but envy just how innocent she looked at the time.

"I dreamed of visiting this place, buying clothes... But never expected it to actually happen. Thank you, Master Detective."

He wasn't sure what to say, not even a breath of "You're welcome" had come, so he just settled with a nod. Then they'd just stared at each other for a moment to the point a faith blush had bloomed on Ashley cheeks, making him snap out of it.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to stare for too long—you look stunning, Ashley." He cleared his throat then, seeing his words had only served to fuel the girl's fluster. "There's a celebration held at Toroid Spine. If you're interested, we could go check it out."

Ashley's eyes lit up that, nodding excitedly. "I'd love to, Master Detective!"

With that, they made a beeline for their destination. The more they approach the trade fair, the more lively it becomes—lights, ambience, the crowds… everywhere he looked, he's met with a festive mood. But what he's truly looking for is a figure that'll definitely stand out of place in this atmosphere.

He should be around here… Squinting his eyes in the distance, Hugin looked for a hint of black and red amidst the crowd, it shouldn't be that hard to find him.

"Detective." A voice called out to him, prompting him to look towards the direction of where it came from.

There stood Rex, with Radar and Chalky on both of his side respectively. They both shared an eye contact in a silent communication before Rex's gaze fell on Ashley.

"… You look amazing, Miss Ashley." Rex prompted, making the girl blush.

"Thank you, Superintendent Rex. Master Detective had bought it for me—I'm still reeling from the fact that I've been given the chance to wear such beautiful clothes…" Ashley admitted in a embarrassed but grateful voice.

That made him turn his attention to Hugin once again, as if finding it unbelievable. "Did he now?"

"You talk as if it's something I can't afford to do." Hugin pointed out, feigning offence. "On contrary, I still have more than enough to get something out of this fair. And those boys' bones too, of course."

"Good."

"Heh."

Did you think I would go back to my word? Hugin thought, feeling awfully competitive. That basically counts as a surrender!

Ashley observed both of them quietly, somehow amused by their bantering. She softly giggled before getting Hugin's attention with a call of his title. "Master Detective, why don't you go ahead and do what you have to do? I'll be fine looking around myself."

"What? That can't do. We can—"

"No, it's really alright. Besides… don't you two have some catching up to do? It's been three years, I'm sure you two have so many things to tell about each other." Ashley guessed, prompting the two men to share a look. It quickly turned awkward, with Hugin looking away first.

"… I suppose." Hugin strained as he observed Ashley's excitement bleeding into slight confusion. "Let me give you some pocket money at least." He reached for his pouch and he pressed a few Ounce on her palm.

After a few moments of back of fourth, she finally accepted the currency in a defeat before bidding them goodbye and disappear into the crowd. In contrast to the lively atmosphere, he felt like he's been doused by a bucket of ice-cold water and really had awoken to reality. Ashley was right, they can't just keep pretending that nothing had happened in the past three years—well, Rex kind of said his piece the other day but somehow he can't find it satisfactory knowing just that.

With Ashley now long gone, he turned to Rex with a small smile. "Let's go."

Their walk together were shared in silence, maybe because they're keeping an eye for some stall selling pet treats or they just don't have the courage to say anything after Ashley's statement. Either way, it was suffocating Hugin—just slightly. And the crowd is bothering him too.

His hand twitched near his holster every time a particular loud noise was made and he was quick to turn his head towards the direction before letting out a sigh of relief when it's nothing serious. Even Radar and Chalky didn't flinch at the sound, their ears trained to determine the difference between a sound of danger and normal ones. Of course, this didn't go unnoticed by Rex; his eyes narrowing the more Hugin twitches.

They secured the bones at some point. It took longer than he expected, but all his stress melted when he finally got to see the pair of Dobermans finally getting the treats they deserve. He's fond of those two, even until now.

"Not a fan of crowd? Or loud noises." Rex questioned after a while, gaining Hugin's attention. They had settled in an insignificant corner, away from all the lights and noise. "You were tense as a stick—you didn't do that before."

A self-deprecating chuckle escaped Hugin lips and licked the front of his teeth. He'd never thought he'll have to explain it to Rex after all these time. "Trauma. Ever since the incident three years ago. I've tried to stop overthinking that there's no danger where the crowd gathers but it's just… impossible." He paused, letting out a sigh. "It's like every nerves in my body is telling me not to let my guard down or else it'll bite me on the back."

Rex stilled at that, processing what he had just said. Or maybe he just doesn't how to reply, he's never really good at sharing empathy after all. And Hugin is alright with that, he suppose. He'd received enough comfort in the past.

"I don't think it's pathetic."

"Huh?"

Did Hugin heard that right? Was that… a comfort? Words of encouragement? Coming from Rex? He was outright stunned, staring at the man as if he'd just said something ridiculous. And pathetic? He doesn't—

"I don't feel pathetic," Hugin choked out almost defensively, earning a wide eyes from the other.

"… Really?" Rex said slowly, almost like a whisper. "Because from what I see, your face says otherwise."

"…"

"It's alright, Hugin. You shouldn't shame yourself over this. You should give it time and recover eventually."

Hugin pressed his lips tightly at that, he's not exactly sure how to react at the other's words. It's like consuming something he can't digest due to how foreign it is and left wondering about the reasons he doesn't have the answers to. But, given enough time, he might understand.

"Why would you say that?" He blurted out before he could stop it, his chest tightening from the sheer adrenaline in his system. "The Rex I know wouldn't spare a second to consider other's feelings; you're not supposed to say a word of comfort—especially in such a tender and understanding tone. Because otherwise… what would you do with this complicated feeling in my chest?"

Rex drew in a sharp breath at Hugin's sudden burst of emotion, his topaz eyes wavering for a just a second. He might be confused with how he had reacted, after offering such words of encouragement… Hugin is even baffled at himself. Maybe he asked for too much.

"You're right, Hugin. I know the old me wouldn't do much such as flinch if you told me about all of this, but with time, I realise…" He took in a deep breath, his hands clenching on his side. "Just how much I still love you."

It felt like the time had frozen the moment those words left Rex's lips. Nothing could've prepared him for the bomb the man had dropped on him—he felt utterly betrayed, the complicated feeling in his chest only amplified.

Hugin shook his head. "You're being unfair, Rex."

"I know, but that's the truth. Those three years gave me the time to realise I need to change. You taught me how to be human, Hugin. There's no moment when I didn't think of you and I can't deny that ever since you left, there's a gaping hole in my heart that can't be mended by anyone else." Rex admitted with such a tender tone, not letting himself to look away from the euclase eyes of Hugin's. "I thought I could act like a stranger towards you, like nothing happened between us… But it crumbled so easily whenever I saw you hurt."

"And whose fault do you think that is? You were the one who did it first."

"I won't deny that, Hugin. That night is something I regret. If only I could turn back time—"

"But you can't! What's done is done...!"

Hugin hid his gaze behind the brim of his hat, unable to keep the tremble from his voice. Radar and Chalky looked up to both of them with a whine and his heart stuttered in guilt for raising his voice. He's just… stressed. Overwhelmed by the unexpected situation he found himself in. He's not supposed to care anymore, so why is it that it's affecting him way too much?

"... That's why I want to try better this time." Rex whispered as he lifted Hugin's chin to meet his eyes once again. The fierceness in his eyes are long gone, only replaced by honesty. "I'm not forcing you to give me another chance to trust me intimately again, Hugin. I just... I just want to be selfish and say these things. No lies, no duty... Just the truth."

Their eyes locked for a long moment, both of them taking in the full weight of the situation. Hugin's grateful for the silence, giving him the moment to collect himself and get his thoughts in order. Rex then let out a low sigh, breaking the spell as he pulled a ribbon from his pocket—one side crimson, the other pitch black.

"I want to give this to you." Rex offered as he held out his palm for him to see, waiting for Hugin's answer.

This colour scheme… He stared at the piece of ribbon and bit his tongue. Maybe it's just a coincidence.

After a while, Hugin felt himself nod before he could think better of it. Though his heart gave a thud when Rex smiled at that, making his way behind him. He tried not to flinch when he felt careful pull of his band, freeing the locks of his hair. Making sure that not a strand escaped his hold, Rex ran his fingers multiple times through the purple hair before tying the ribbon neatly in a low pony tail.

The ribbon's tail tickles the sensitive part of his nape but says nothing—the small change is something he'll eventually have to get used to.

"..."

Hugin wanted to say something, anything to get the heavy feeling out of his chest, but he struggled to even let a syllable out. Even if he did, what comes next after that?

This is the first time that his mind drew blank, running into a situation he wasn't quite sure how to tackle. Not even the thought of escape came to mind.

"The countdown for the celebration is in five minutes, why don't you find Miss Ashley and watch the spectacle? You've been away for three years, you don't want to miss this." Rex said from behind him as the last strand of his hair fell from his palm.

What…? What about you? Hugin turned back too quickly that their lips almost brushed if not for Rex taking a step back in time. He didn't even noticed and bored his gaze towards the man, expecting an explanation.

Rex fixed his cap with a knowing smile. "I must go and continue my patrol. Let's talk again soon, Hugin."

Wait! You're leaving just like that? He tried to call after him, but his voice didn't come out even after Rex and the pair Doberman had disappeared in the distance. And at that moment, he felt incredibly cold and lonely. A taste of bitterness covered his mouth and he quickly swallowed it, turning to where the crowd has gathered to find his assistant. Get a grip, Hugin.

He pushed the memory of what had transpired between them and searched the crowd for the blue-haired girl. Fortunately, he had easily spotted her and brought her to the balcony facing the Toroid Spine with only a minute left on the countdown.

"By the way, how was your conversation with Superintendent Rex, Master Detective?" Ashley asked in pure curiosity, meeting his gaze.

Hugin stilled at that, he had hoped that girl wouldn't ask about it, but he knew she meant no harm in doing so. He searched for an answer as the countdown ticked down in his mind, watching the Toroid Spine teem with power.

"It was kind of surreal, just like this view…"

The power in the Toroid Spine attracted swathes of Silverillia—a creature with a jellyfish-like appearance glowing in gold. Every now and then, as the Argent Strand flows hit a peak, a wondrous parade of Silverillia would emerge around the Toroid Spine. It's beautiful, even if fleeting. They'll fade, but once the cycle repeats, they come back, and it begins anew.

As he watched the group of Silverillia float about nearby, his mind wandered to the time when he and Rex came to this place to watch it together—the joy they had shared still vivid in his mind. The events of the past came crashing over him then, undermining the excuse he had for saying something so absurd in their last argument.

Oh. So that's how it is.

Hugin is such a horrible and lying person. How could he say he didn't loved Rex when he was the one who fell in love in the first place?

He wanted nothing more than to run after Rex, to apologise for being selfish, that he let anger take over him that night, and that he didn't mean to say any of it. In truth, Hugin missed him dearly, he's the sole reason alongside Munin and Firtho that he was able to beat depression—he'll do anything to give them a chance to try again because yes, he is a fool, and trusting others is supposed to be one of the few things he's good at.

"Thank you so much… for all of this," Ashley said as she turned to face him, and he felt so guilty for how muffled it sounded in his ears. "Um… Actually… Actually, about the Mystery of the Stolen Silver, the truth behind it—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the ground seemed to shook violently in time for him to feel a splitting headache. He stumbled on his feet, but Ashley managed to catch his shoulder in time—coming to a conclusion that the ground is in fact not shaking and his own world is spinning.

"Master Detective! What's wrong!? Detective!?"

Hugin collapsed to the ground, with Rex as the last thing on his mind before a nightmare swallowed him whole—leading him to (no doubt) yet another milestone in his investigation.

Mending what was broken between him and his ex would have to wait. A few more days wouldn't kill him—not after he'd already spent three long years learning how to live with the ghost of what they used to be.