Half a month had passed since the last murder, and London remained on edge. The police were no closer to catching the "Phantom Butcher," and the case had become a hot topic of conversation across the city. Despite efforts to suppress the news, the story had spread, and the term "Phantom Butcher" was now synonymous with fear and intrigue.
Victor Black, meanwhile, had been busy playing his role as the unsuspecting "sitting duck" in Harley Quinn's life. Over the past weeks, he had spent over a hundred thousand pounds on her, earning her complete trust—and her greed. To Harley, Victor was just another wealthy, lonely man she could manipulate. Little did she know, she was the one being played.
---
**Scotland Yard, Serious Crime Unit Conference Room**
The tension in the room was palpable when Victor's call came in. Sebastian Gray answered, his voice steady.
"Hello, Phantom. This is Sebastian."
Victor's voice was calm, almost playful. "You must have missed me. Let's play a new game. I'll send you a photo of my next target. You have one day to find her. At this time tomorrow, I'll kill her. Good luck."
The line went dead before Sebastian could respond.
Alan Smith, the tech expert, sighed. "He's a professional. I can only trace the call to London. No specific location."
Moments later, a photo arrived on Scotland Yard's official website. It was a heavily edited selfie of Harley Quinn, her features distorted beyond recognition by filters and makeup.
The team stared at the image in frustration.
"Can we restore it?" James Morrison asked.
Alan shook his head. "Even with the best software, this is as far as we can go. The makeup and editing are too extreme."
The room fell silent. The photo was useless.
---
**Victor's Perspective**
Victor couldn't help but smile. He hadn't cheated this time—if the police could identify Harley from the photo, they'd win. But he knew they couldn't. Her online persona was a complete disguise, far removed from her real appearance.
Tomorrow, he would act.
---
**Friday Evening**
Victor left school early and headed to an abandoned industrial area in London. As night fell, he waited patiently, his mind calm.
Meanwhile, at Scotland Yard, the team was in disarray.
"It's already dark!" James shouted. "If we don't act, that woman will die!"
Sebastian countered, "Our superiors said no. We can't risk the fallout."
James's eyes were red with frustration. "At least we can try!"
Sebastian sighed. "James, think about the consequences. The public's trust, the social impact—it's too risky."
James laughed bitterly. "The overall situation. Always the overall situation."
He left the room, his laughter echoing with bitterness.
Sebastian watched him go, understanding now why James had remained a captain for over a decade. He was too stubborn, too willing to risk everything for justice.
And yet, Sebastian admired him for it.