Detective Jones
Year 2019.
A well-known private detective left his job to pursue his dream of becoming something else. While his resignation didn't surprise many, what did was his remarkable reputation in police
records —a mere 13-year-old boy, who had solved twice as many cases as his age within just a few months. News of his brilliance quickly spread through the streets of Vandolin.
This news also reached the ears of Chief Superintendent Mr. Moscus Dicosta.
Taking a sip of his tea, he adjusted his glasses and focused on the line in the newspaper where Detective Jones's age and the number of cases he had solved were written.
"Remarkable," the word slipped from his mouth as he murmured the names of the cases.
He set the newspaper down on the table and picked up the landline phone, dialing 4... 7... 8... 6... 5... The call began to ring.
On the other end, a voice answered.
"Hello, this is the Vinsentas Police Department. You're speaking to Superintendent Philip Colsen."
"I am Chief Superintendent Dicosta," he stated.
Colsen's tone immediately shifted—now sharper, more formal.
"Yes, Sir. What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Colsen, I've heard about a private detective making a name for himself in your area. I need his case details and his name. Right now."
"Understood, Sir. I will arrange the details and send them to your email. Please give me a moment."
"Hurry, Colsen," Dicosta snapped, slamming the landline down, cutting the call.
Dicosta's voice carried authority as he ordered, "Phinson, come here!"
Phinson arrived immediately at Dicosta's command, standing at attention and offering a respectful salute.
" Inspector Phinson, where are the physical records of the 'Dorsan Villa Murder Case' ? I want them here, now. Bring them immediately and assign a constable to drive my car. You have 25 minutes. Hurry."
Inspector Phinson, who worked under Dicosta, had been seeking a promotion for some time. He was well aware that Mr. Dicosta was a strict and punctual man whose orders were absolute. Dicosta had already been nominated for a higher position multiple times—far beyond the rank Phinson was hoping to attain. Realizing that this task might be a test of his efficiency and discipline, Phinson saluted Dicosta and rushed off to fulfill his orders without hesitation.
At that moment, an email notification popped up in the Chief's laptop inbox.
He opened it with curiosity—it contained the details he had requested from Superintendent Colsen just moments ago.
He found the real name of the detective: Arthur Jones, aka Detective Jones.
Age: 13 years
Education: No records
Address : Siriya Orphanage
Cases Solved: 28, including Hamart Dog Attack, Frederick Shootout, Syri Rape Case
Last Worked On: Dorsan Villa Case
Status: Resigned
The last two points struck Chief Dicosta like
a jolt—"Last Worked On: Dorsan Villa Case," "Status: Resigned," His mind raced with questions.
Just then, a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Phinson, waiting for permission to enter.
The Chief commanded, "Come in."
Phinson entered the room, holding a file in his hands. "This is what you requested, sir. Also, Constable Retollue will be driving you to your destination."
The Chief gave a slight smile, glanced at his watch, and said, "14 minutes and 57 seconds, Inspector. Next time, make it 10 minutes, and I might ask for giving you a better post in a higher position. Until then—"
He stood up, placed his cap on his head, and added, "Train your punctuality, Inspector. And remember—discipline includes always saluting your seniors. Farewell."
With that, he walked out of the department building.
Phinson stood frozen, hearing his words like a statue, unable to say anything in return.
The Chief entered the car, and without delay, he ordered Retollue, "Drive to Siriya Orphanage." Constable Retollue started the engine, setting off toward orphanage.
𝟯𝟬 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗣𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱...
The Chief stepped out, adjusted his hat, and ordered the constable, "Wait here."
He stepped into the orphanage garden, walking toward the reception. Along the way, many children watched him with curiosity. He responded with a bright smile before continuing until he reached the reception desk.
A fair lady at the reception greeted him with a warm smile. " Welcome to Siriya Orphanage. Are you here to adopt a child or make a donation?"
The Chief removed his cap and, in a gentle tone, asked, "How many children are currently in the orphanage?"
The receptionist was momentarily surprised by the question but quickly responded, "There are 45 children in total, ranging from ages 5 to 13."
Chief asked, "How many are 13 years old?"
The receptionist smirked slightly and said, "Oh, so you're here just to adopt Arthur, right?"
The Chief shook his head, signaling no. Then he said, "I just want to gather some information.".
The receptionist was slightly taken aback, but before she could respond, the Chief asked, "Do you accept card transactions?"
The receptionist, still confused, replied, "Yes."
"Can I?" the Chief asked.
The receptionist, still puzzled, handed him the card machine.
The Chief swiped his card and made a donation. Then he asked, "Please check the transaction."
The receptionist checked the transaction and was stunned—$30,000. She had never received more than $500 in donations before. Her hands trembled slightly as she said in a shaky voice, "Thank you."
The Chief smiled and replied, "Please ensure their growth and necessities are well taken care of." He then turned his gaze toward the children playing in the ground, silently observing them.
The receptionist, still in shock, hesitated before asking, "Do you want to meet Arthur? He's in his room. You can go straight down the corridor—Room Number 13, at the end on the left."
The Chief thanked the receptionist and followed the path she had instructed, heading toward Room Number 13 at the end of the left corridor..
When he reached the room, he noticed the door was covered with numerous nails—yet not a single one was properly fixed. Some were bent, while others hung loosely in their holes, as if they had been struck with uncertainty or hesitation.
The sight made the Chief feel slightly unsettled, but he didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
As he knocked, he realized the door was already open.
He stepped inside and saw a boy, who looked about 13 years old, sleeping on the top bunk of a double-story bed.
"Arthur?" he mumbled, but he didn't attempt to wake him up. Instead, he quietly sat on the chair in front of the bed. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time—11:30 AM.
𝟮𝟬 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱...
The boy stirred, letting out a yawn as if he was about to wake up.
He opened his eyes and found the Chief staring intently at his face.
"Who are you?!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise.
The Chief spoke calmly, "Sorry, child. I didn't mean to startle you. But it's not good to sleep for so long in the middle of the day."
A voice came from the doorway.
"Is it good for a police officer to barge into an orphan's room without a warrant?"
The Chief was startled by the voice and quickly turned to see who it was.
A boy, who looked about 13 years old, was standing against the wall, leaning casually as he observed the scene.
"Who are you, kid?" the Chief asked.
The boy smirked and replied, "Isn't it good manners to state your own name first before asking someone else's?"
The Chief felt a hint of irritation but chuckled nonetheless. "I am Moscus Dicosta, Chief Superintendent of Vanefis. Now will you state your name?"
"I am Arthur Jones," the boy replied without hesitation.
"So, you're Detective Jones. Your fame stands much taller than your's ," the Chief remarked. "So—"
Before he could finish, Arthur interrupted, "I left that name along with that job, Mr. Dicosta."
The Chief's eyes widened in wonder as he look in the confidence and attitude of the 13-year-old boy.
Arthur spoke firmly, "You're a busy man, right? So let me make this clear—I'm not leaving with you, abandoning my brother here."
The Chief, intrigued, responded, "And what makes you think I'm busy?"
Arthur smirked slightly. "You kept checking your watch every two to four minutes. So, I thought."
The Chief, amused by Arthur's sharp observation, smirked and said, "No, kiddo. You've got it wrong. I'm here to arrest a 13-year-old who accessed 28 case records from the police database—unofficially."
Arthur's expression remained unfazed as he replied, "But I did that with the police's permission."
The Chief raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a written copy of that permission?"
Arthur's confident tone wavered slightly, a hint of tension creeping in. His body instinctively shifted, and he took a small step backward.
The Chief's voice turned firm. "There you go, kiddo. Any attempt to flee from the police will only extend your punishment."
Arthur's voice trembled as he asked, "How much will it extend?"
The Chief touched his chin, pretending to think for a moment. Then, with a slight smirk, he said, "Maybe... 2 or 3 years."
Arthur's face turned pale with shock, his expression betraying his fear. His voice shook as he pleaded, "I haven't done anything wrong!.. Please, spare me!... I don't want to end up in jai… Please!" His tense body and desperate tone made
it clear—he was genuinely seeking the Chief's mercy.
The Chief smirked and said, "Then there's only one thing left. It's still a punishment, though." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I'll take you into my personal custody. Pack your and your brother's belongings—you're leaving right now."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, the Chief interrupted, "You have 7 minutes. Any delay, and I'll change my decision."
With that, he stepped past Arthur and out the door, his voice firm as he added, "I'll be waiting at the reception. Hurry."
The Chief sat down at the reception, waiting.
Suddenly, Arthur rushed toward him, panting heavily. "We... are... re... ready...," he gasped between breaths.
The Chief raised an eyebrow, slightly shocked by their speed. Glancing at his watch, he saw that barely 2 minutes had passed.
The Chief eyed the bags and asked, "Is that all your belongings, Arthur? And you are…?"
Arthur took a deep breath before replying, "Yes. And this is my brother, Wilson."
The Chief recognized the boy—it was the same one who had been sleeping earlier.
He then said, "I'll give you another 2 minutes. See that car outside the orphanage gate? Be there on time. Go!"
As soon as the Chief gave the order, Arthur and Wilson sprinted toward the car.
The Chief then turned to the receptionist and said, "Let's talk about preparing their adoption certificates."
The receptionist nodded, but a small tear glistened in her eyes. The Chief noticed and asked, "Is there a problem?"
The receptionist shook her head, but a tear slipped down her cheek.
"It's nothing… It's just… they were the first two kids admitted here," she said softly. "Wilson was the first, and then one night, Arthur arrived. He was in critical condition, his head was bleeding. We rushed him to the hospital. After that, our orphanage slowly became known, and other children started coming one by one. But until now, not even a single child had been adopted. I was just happy that at least they are finally getting a home."
The Chief felt a pang of sorrow at her words. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "They can come back whenever they want—to visit, to play with the others. This will always be their home too."
The receptionist wiped her eyes and gave a small smile. "Yes... I hope the others will also find a new home someday. Oh! Sorry, I almost forgot about the adoption certificates. Give me a minute, please."
The Chief gave a slight nod and replied, "No problem, Miss."
After a brief wait, the receptionist handed him the adoption certificates.
Taking them, the Chief gave her a polite nod and said, "Good afternoon." Then without another word, he turned and walked toward his car.
The Chief stopped in his tracks, noticing that neither of them had entered the car.
Frowning, he asked, "Why didn't you get in?"
Wilson looked up and replied, "You only ordered us to reach here. So, I stopped Arthur from getting in."
The Chief chuckled at Wilson's response. "Lovely discipline, gentleman."
Then, opening the car door for them, he said, "Now you can get in."
Then, the Chief got into the front seat and sat down in the car. Chief turned to the constable and ordered, "Drive to my home."
The constable replied, "Yes, sir," and then started the car, heading towards the Chief's home.
A little while later, they arrived in front of a large, beautiful house. Its elegance and size made it stand out, looking truly magnificent.
The Chief stepped out of the car and opened the door for Arthur and Wilson, signaling them to get out.
Both Arthur and Wilson stood in shock, their mouths agape as they gazed up at the building, unable to fully comprehend the grandeur before them.
The Chief noticed their stunned expressions and, with a quiet chuckle to himself, he teased them in an amusing tone, "Gentlemen, it seems the flies of this home jail have poor knowledge of direction. Please make sure none of them end up in your mouths."
Hearing this, both Arthur and Wilson quickly snapped out of their daze, closing their mouths with slightly reddened faces, clearly embarrassed.
Arthur and Wilson, still a little flustered, followed Chief into the home.
Chief called out, "Darling! I'm home... Where are you?" as he entered the house.
A little girl ran toward the Chief and hugged him tightly, exclaiming, "Welcome back! " with a bright smile.
Arthur, still astonished, muttered under his breath, "Isn't marrying a girl younger than 16 a crime?" His words slipped out without thinking as he tried to make sense of the situation.
A swift slap landed on the back of Arthur's head, making him wince.
"Ouch!" Arthur cried out, clearly surprised by the force of the slap. It seemed like it had left quite an impact.
A boy, slightly taller than Arthur, hit him from behind and scolded, "You fool, she's the Chief's daughter!"
Wilson protested, "Striking from behind is not good, you know." But the boy shot him a threatening glare and replied, "And who the freak are you?"
Chief chuckled and said, "Try to become friends. The two of them will live with us from now on."
The girl's eyes widened, and she stepped forward, nervously saying, "He...llo, ni...ce to me..et you. My na...me is Sa..rla Dicosta." Her voice trembled, typical of a 9-year-old girl.
Wilson smiled and said, "I'm Wilson Jones. and this is my brother, Arthur Jones. Nice to meet you!"
The boy walked up to the Chief, then turned to Arthur and Wilson and said firmly, "Salute your senior!"
Chief gave a sharp chop to the boy's head, harder than the one he had given Arthur.
"Ah!" the boy yelped, immediately grabbing his head as if it really hurt.
Chief stated, "You should earn respect before demanding a salute, you stone head."
He glanced at the boy and, in a remarking tone, added, "But I appreciate that you kept your tone steady even after that sudden strike."
Chief then said, "Try to get to know each other—that's your training for today."
With that, he turned and walked up the stairs to the second floor.
Arthur muttered, "Training? But I thought I was here for a punishment."
The boy smirked and replied, "If you fail your training, then you'll get your punishment. And believe me, it'll be worse than you can imagine." He leaned in uncomfortably close to Arthur, as if threatening him about the consequences of failure.
"Like hell I care about you, Mr. Unwanted," Arthur shot back.
The boy's expression darkened. "Who the hell are you calling unwanted?"
Arthur crossed his arms. "If you were wanted, you'd at least have a name."
The boy smirked, clearly enjoying the exchange. "I have one. But you? You're not even worthy of hearing it."
Arthur smirked. "Just admit you forgot your name." His tone dripped with mockery.
The boy's expression twisted in anger. "Phantom. It's Phantom. Happy now?"
Wilson and Sarla stood there, mouths agape, watching their argument like it was some intense battle scene.
Phantom smirked, crossing his arms. "You sure talk big for someone who just got here."
Arthur scoffed. "And you sure act tough for someone who's all bark and no bite."
Phantom's eye twitched. "What did you just say, newbie?"
Arthur leaned forward. "I said—" Before he could finish, Phantom grabbed his cheek and pulled.
Arthur, not backing down, latched onto Phantom's face and yanked just as hard.
"What the hell are you made of?! Iron?!" Arthur gritted through his teeth, stretching Phantom's cheek.
"Let...go...first!" Phantom growled, tugging Arthur's face like he was trying to mold clay.
Wilson and Sarla exchanged glances, unsure whether to stop them or call for help.
As the argument escalated, Arthur and Phantom's taunts turned into playful but aggressive shoving. Then, almost instinctively, they grabbed each other's faces, pulling and twisting as if trying to stretch them out of shape. Their eyes locked in a fierce but childish challenge, neither willing to back down.
Wilson, seeing the tension boil over, stepped forward. "Come on, stop it! There's no need to fight!"
But before he could separate them, both Arthur and Phantom pushed him aside without a second thought. Wilson stumbled backward and fell to the floor with a thud.
Sarla, who had been watching with wide eyes, suddenly burst into tears. Her wailing filled the room, freezing Arthur and Phantom in place. Their grip on each other loosened as they turned to look at her in panic.
Hearing the chaos, Chief stormed down the stairs. His deep voice cut through the noise like a blade.
"What is this madness?"
Arthur and Phantom immediately let go of each other's faces, standing stiff like guilty children caught red-handed.
Wilson groaned from the ground, rubbing his back.
" I just tried to stop them..."
Sarla, still sobbing, wiped her tears and pointed at the two. "They pushed Wilson!"
Chief's gaze sharpened. His heavy footsteps echoed as he approached. "So, on your very first day here, you both decided to start a fight and push your younger brother?" His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind it.
Arthur and Phantom exchanged nervous glances.
"It wasn't like that..." Arthur started.
Phantom quickly added, "Yeah, we were just—"
Chief raised a hand, silencing them. "I don't care for excuses." His gaze turned colder. "Both of you, outside. Now."
Arthur and Phantom gulped. Wilson sat up, watching with wide eyes, while Sarla sniffled, peeking from behind her hands.
A tense silence hung in the air as the two troublemakers hesitated.
"I said now," Chief repeated.
Without another word, Arthur and Phantom lowered their heads and marched toward the door, knowing they were about to face their first real punishment.
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
Arthur and Phantom sat stiffly on two chairs in the garden, their backs straight as if bound by an invisible force. Chief paced around them like a shark circling its prey, his measured footsteps making the tension even heavier. Neither dared to speak, knowing that whatever came next wouldn't be pleasant.
Chief stopped pacing and turned to face them, his voice firm. "You know, friendships are built and tested through quarrels. That much, I understand." He let his words hang for a moment before his tone sharpened. "But what you did today? You hurt your own brother and made your little sister cry." His eyes bore into them, demanding accountability. Then, his voice thundered, "Is that a good thing?! Answer me!!"
Phantom kept his head down, silent, while Arthur hesitantly spoke, "I didn't realize things would turn out this way…"
Chief's sharp gaze locked onto him. "Good! At least you have the guts to admit your mistake." Then, his attention shifted to Phantom. "Learn something from him, Phantom. Feeling ashamed and admitting it are two different things." His voice grew heavier. "In the police force, if you're silent before a client, it means you're guilty. And right now, you're acting like you don't even regret what you did."
Chief's tone softened slightly, though it still carried authority. "Think about what you did today," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Now, go take a bath. I want both of you at the dining table." He glanced at his watch. "You have 30 minutes. Move fast."
The moment his command landed, Arthur and Phantom bolted like startled animals, racing toward the house to wash up before time ran out.
As they sprinted off, a sudden fork in the path appeared. Arthur instinctively took the left while Phantom dashed to the right.
A second later, Phantom skidded to a halt, realization dawning. "Oi, idiot! The bathhouse is this way!" he shouted.
Arthur, already several steps ahead, stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back, eyes narrowing. "And you couldn't say that before I went the wrong way?"
Without waiting for a response, he spun around and sprinted toward Phantom, who smirked triumphantly.
"Try to keep up, lost puppy!" Phantom teased, taking off again.
"Oh, shut up!" Arthur growled, pushing himself to run faster as they both disappeared toward the bathhouse.
Phantom reached the bathhouse first and turned back with a mischievous grin. "Bye-bye, idiot! Wait for me if you can—hehe!" He slammed the door shut just as Arthur was about to reach it.
Arthur, still sprinting at full speed, had no time to stop. His eyes widened in horror. "Oh no—!"
*𝗕𝗮𝗺!
The door didn't just stop him—it gave up on life entirely, breaking off its hinges as Arthur crashed straight through it.
Phantom barely had a second to react before Arthur's momentum carried them both straight into the bathtub with a loud 𝗦𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵!
Water erupted like a mini tsunami, drenching everything around them. Phantom surfaced first, sputtering. "What the hell, you wrecking ball?! You broke the door!"
Arthur sat up, wiping water from his face. "Well, maybe don't shut the door in someone's face next time!"
The two glared at each other, soaked and fuming.
Arthur screamed right into Phantom's face, "Who the hell are you?!"
Phantom asked, "What happened?" Then his eyes landed on the bathhouse mirror.
"Crap!!" he screamed, but his voice came out high-pitched—almost like a girl's.
He stared in horror. The bathwater had completely washed away his makeup.
Phantom glared at Arthur with teary eyes. "Please… don't tell Chief that you know I'm a girl," she pleaded, her voice softer, almost desperate.
Arthur stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he had just seen. What the hell did I just witness?! He screamed internally, his eyes darting between Phantom and the now-smudged makeup running down her face.
Arthur sat there for a moment, staring at Phantom—no, her—with a blank expression. His brain was still buffering.
Phantom, now looking completely different without the makeup, was biting her lip anxiously. "Please... just act like you didn't see anything," she pleaded again.
Arthur took a deep breath, rubbed his temples, and then stood up with a dramatic sigh. "You know what? I don't even want to process this right now." He walked toward the door, shaking his head.
Before stepping outside, he turned back with a smirk. "Hurry up, idiot boy. I don't have all day." His tone was deliberately mocking as he emphasized the last words.
Phantom's face twitched in frustration, but before she could say anything, Arthur was already gone.
Arthur, who had just stepped out, froze mid-walk. He turned his head slightly, realizing what he had done.
Behind him, Phantom was sitting in the bathtub, glaring at him with teary, furious eyes. "At least pull the curtain of the door, you idiot!!" she yelled.
Arthur blinked, then glanced at the half-broken door hanging awkwardly from its hinges. "Oh... yeah, that." He scratched the back of his head, then quickly yanked the curtain over the entrance.
"Better?" he asked with a smirk.
"JUST GO!!" Phantom screamed, splashing water in frustration.
Arthur chuckled to himself as he walked away, shaking his head. "This place just keeps getting weirder."
A little while later...
"How long are you gonna take, witch? Hurry up, or Chief's gonna throw me out of the house!"
Phantom stepped out, rubbing her head. "Now, you can go bu—"
Before she could finish, Arthur bolted past her like a gust of wind, shoving her aside. She spun twice before landing on the floor with a defeated sigh.
"At least let me finish my sentence, you lunatic!" she groaned.
Phantom stood up, dusting herself off. "Oh, that idiot..." she muttered.
Suddenly, a voice came from behind. "Uh… where are my clothes?"
She turned around—and immediately regretted it.
Arthur stood there, completely bare, dripping wet.
Phantom's eyes widened in horror. "At least dry yourself first—AHHHH!!"
Realizing what she just saw, she spun around, covering her eyes. "HEY, PERVERT! PUT SOMETHING ON!!"
Arthur, unfazed, casually yanked the towel off Phantom's head and wrapped it around himself. "There, now you don't see anything. Problem solved."
Phantom stood frozen for a second. Then, she let out a high-pitched scream. "THAT WAS MY TOWEL, YOU MORON!!"
Phantom's face twitched in anger. "And what about the one you are wearing, witch?" Arthur shot back with a smug grin.
Phantom crossed her arms. "Excuse me?! This is my bathrobe, not just a towel!"
Arthur smirked. "Yeah? Well, now this is my towel, not just your head wrap."
Phantom clenched her fists, her face turning red. "Give. It. Back."
Arthur took a step back. "Nope. You already saw too much, so this is compensation."
Phantom lunged at him. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU TOWEL-STEALING MANIAC!!"
Just as Phantom was about to strangle Arthur, a terrifying image flashed in both their minds—Chief's furious face, eyes glaring like a predator ready to pounce.
They both shivered, their fight instantly forgotten.
Arthur gulped. "Uh… maybe we should hurry up before Chief actually kills us."
Phantom nodded rapidly. "For once, I agree with you."
Without another word, they bolted in opposite directions—Arthur scrambling to find his clothes, and Phantom rushing to fix her hair.
Neither of them wanted to test Chief's patience any further.
Arthur leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. "Want a free suggestion?"
Phantom scoffed, flipping her wet hair back. "From you? Never."
Arthur shrugged. "Okay then, don't blame me when Wilson start asking why you suddenly look like a girl?."
Phantom blinked. Her brain processed his words like a lagging computer.
Then— BOOM!—realization struck.
Her face went pale. "OH CRAP!!"
She grabbed Arthur by the collar, shaking him like a ragdoll. "WHY DIDN'T YOU REMIND ME SOONER, YOU USELESS MEMORY-LOSS MACHINE?!"
Arthur flailed in her grip. "Hey! I just did!"
Phantom screamed in frustration, throwing him aside like a sack of potatoes before dashing to her makeup kit like her life depended on it.
Arthur sat up, rubbing his head. "Sheesh. Next time, I'll charge for my genius advice."
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
Arthur and Phantom finally reached the dining table, slightly out of breath. Chief was already seated, arms crossed, waiting for them with a table full of food. He glanced at his watch, then smirked.
"29 minutes and 47 seconds… Barely made it." He leaned back in his chair. "But hey, a pass is a pass. Sit down and eat."
As they pulled out their chairs, a pleasant-looking lady walked in from the kitchen. Her warm gaze landed on Arthur, and a soft smile appeared on her face.
"Oh, you must be Arthur, right?" Her voice was gentle, filled with a motherly warmth.
Arthur replied with a nervous "Y-Yes," then quickly took his seat beside Phantom.
Phantom sat between Arthur and Wilson, who was already eyeing the food excitedly. Across from Wilson was Chief, sitting with his usual composed expression. Beside him, the lady took her seat, her warm presence bringing a sense of comfort to the table.
On Arthur's left, Sarla settled into her chair, swinging her legs slightly as she glanced curiously between him and Phantom. The table was set, the food steaming invitingly, but the atmosphere held a slight tension—especially for Arthur, who still wasn't sure what to expect.
Arthur and Wilson couldn't tear their eyes away from the feast before them. The golden crust of the Beef Wellington glistened under the warm dining light, revealing the tender, truffle-infused beef within. The rich aroma of roasted meat, melted cheese, and toasted pastry filled the air, making their stomachs rumble.
The Dauphinoise Potatoes sat beside it, their crispy, caramelized layers glistening with creamy Gruyère. Grilled asparagus, perfectly charred, carried a smoky touch, while a velvety Hollandaise Sauce waited to drench everything in buttery goodness.
Arthur swallowed hard. Wilson fidgeted in his seat. Both of them, completely entranced by the food, felt an unbearable craving build inside them. Phantom smirked, nudging Arthur with an elbow. "Try not to drool on the table, genius."
Arthur shot a glare but couldn't deny—this was the best-looking meal he had ever seen.
Chief simply smiled, watching them eat without a word. Arthur and Wilson were devouring their food like they hadn't eaten in days. Arthur barely bothered with utensils, while Wilson stuffed his cheeks like a chipmunk storing food for winter.
Phantom and Sarla exchanged glances, stifling their laughter. Phantom whispered, "Are they eating or preparing for longtime a war?"
Sarla giggled, but Chief only shook his head with amusement. He didn't correct their eating style—he just let them enjoy the meal. Seeing them eat with such enthusiasm was enough for him.
The woman gently scooped up a small bite and brought it to Sarla's mouth. "Here, sweetheart, eat slowly," she said with a warm smile.
Sarla happily took the bite, chewing with delight. Every now and then, she would glance at Arthur and Wilson, who were still devouring their food like wild animals. She giggled, covering her mouth.
Arthur, noticing her laughter, swallowed quickly and asked, "What's so funny?"
Sarla just shook her head playfully. "Nothing. Just eat, big brother."
The woman chuckled softly as she continued to help Sarla, her touch filled with motherly care.
Arthur and Wilson leaned back in their chairs, their stomachs full, eyes drooping with exhaustion. A satisfied sigh escaped Arthur, while Wilson barely managed to keep his head from falling onto the table.
Phantom, seeing their sluggish state, smirked. "What happened, tough guys? Defeated by food?" She crossed her arms and let out a mocking laugh.
Arthur groaned, rubbing his stomach. "Shut up, witch... That was too good."
Wilson yawned. "I think I need a nap..."
Meanwhile, Sarla happily held the woman's hand and walked with her toward her room. She hummed a soft tune, clearly content.
Chief, watching everything, calmly wiped his mouth with a napkin. He glanced at Arthur and Wilson, amused by their struggle against sleep. "You two look like you're about to collapse. Go rest before you pass out at the table."
Arthur waved his hand lazily. "Yeah... yeah... just five minutes..."
Chief shook his head with a small smile, knowing very well they wouldn't last that long.
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
𝟯:𝟯𝟬 𝗣𝗠. An alarm rang loudly.
Arthur and Wilson jolted awake, startled and disoriented.
Chief, who had been sitting before them, calmly stood up. "A power nap longer than 30 minutes is harmful to the brain," he stated. Then, with a slight pause, he added, "Wash your faces and go explore the locality with Phantom and Sarla."
His gaze turned sharper as he smirked. "From tomorrow, your training—" he cleared his throat, correcting himself, "I mean, your punishment begins. Brace yourselves."
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving the two still shaking off their drowsiness.
Wilson sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Did we just pass out on the bed?"
Arthur stretched, stifling a yawn. "Just wash your face… or (*yawn) … Chief's gonna court-martial us."
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
A little while later, Arthur and Wilson stood in the corridor near the entrance gate of the mansion. Wilson was still a bit drowsy, rubbing his eyes as if trying to shake off sleep.
Suddenly, the sound of light, hurried footsteps echoed through the hall. Sarla came running toward them, her small frame full of excitement. Wilson's sleepy expression brightened at the sight of her, but Arthur's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Without hesitation, Sarla leaped toward Wilson, as if she had already accepted him as her brother. But just before she could land in his arms, Arthur swiftly stepped forward and pushed her aside.
With a startled yelp, Sarla tumbled onto the floor.
She looked up at Arthur, her face twisted with confusion and frustration. "Why did you hit me?!" she demanded, rubbing her arm.
Arthur crossed his arms, his sharp gaze fixed on her. "Who are you?" His voice carried an edge of accusation.
Wilson frowned, stepping between them. "What are you talking about? She's Sarla! We just had lunch with her a while ago!"
Arthur let out a slow sigh. "Your mole," he pointed at her face, "was on the left cheek before. Now, it's on the right. And the Sarla I know—the one who cried when Wilson fell—just hit the ground herself without shedding a single tear." His eyes darkened. "Isn't that enough proof?"
The corridor fell silent. Even Wilson's half-asleep mind suddenly snapped awake, and he turned to Sarla, his expression shifting with realization.
Wilson opened his mouth to say something, but before he could utter a word, the sound of slow, deliberate clapping filled the air.
Chief stepped into the corridor, his expression laced with amusement. "Magnificent, Detective Jones!" he declared dramatically. "You caught Phantom on your very first try."
As he spoke, Sarla let out a defeated sigh and pulled at her face—her skin shifted unnaturally for a moment before revealing Phantom underneath. In her hand, she still held a red marker.
Wilson's jaw dropped. "Wait… what?!"
Chief smirked. "Boys, I had given Phantom a
task— to mark you both with that marker. If you hadn't been able to tell the difference between her and the real Sarla, then tomorrow's work would've been a complete waste." He crossed his arms and gave Arthur a nod of approval. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting you to notice. But you passed, Jones. So, as planned, you're free to visit the neighborhood and start building connections with the locals."
Just then, the real Sarla came running down the hall, her small feet pattering against the floor as she approached them with wide eyes.
Wilson, still recovering from the shock, turned to Arthur. "Wait… don't tell me she's a test too?"
Before he could finish, Arthur smacked the back of his head. "Idiot! She's the real one!"
Wilson rubbed his head, grumbling. "Well, excuse me for double-checking! I just got betrayed by a fake Sarla five seconds ago!"
Phantom, standing to the side, snickered. "Oh, Wilson, you sweet summer child."
Chief shook his head with an amused smile. "Enough. Get going, and don't cause trouble—at least not on your first visit."
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
Sarla skipped along the cobbled pathway, her small fingers wrapped tightly around Wilson's hand as she chattered excitedly. Her voice was light and full of energy, making it impossible for Wilson not to smile, even though he was still trying to process everything that had just happened.
"That house over there," she pointed to a cozy-looking home with flower pots lined along the windows, "Belongs to Mrs. Lillian! She makes the best chocolate cookies! Sometimes, if I say please really sweetly, she gives me extra!" She grinned proudly, as if her negotiation skills were her greatest achievement.
Wilson chuckled. "So, you just charm her into giving you free cookies?"
Sarla nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Being cute is a skill, you know!"
As they passed a small garden filled with bright yellow marigolds, she tugged at his hand again. "Oh! And this is where Mr. Patel grows his flowers! He says they bring good luck, so I always pick one before a test!"
Wilson raised a brow. "And does it work?"
Sarla pouted. "No, but it makes me feel better!"
Wilson laughed, shaking his head as she continued leading him through the streets, pointing out every little detail that fascinated her. From the colorful kites tangled in power lines to the stray cat that only let her pet it on Tuesdays, Sarla's world was full of tiny wonders that she was eager to share.
Phantom and Arthur walked a few steps behind, watching the scene unfold.
Phantom smirked. "Looks like someone's getting brainwashed by a tiny tour guide."
Arthur shrugged. "At least she's not trying to mark him with a red marker." Arthur then shot her a look. "Don't think I forgot about that, witch." Phantom only grinned.
Phantom walked beside Arthur, deliberately facing the other way, arms crossed, clearly avoiding any conversation. Arthur, noticing her silent treatment, smirked.
"What, upset that I caught your little disguise trick?" he teased, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Phantom scoffed but didn't turn. "I just don't feel like talking to an idiot," she muttered.
Arthur grinned, enjoying her irritation. "Admit it, you're impressed by my detective skills."
Phantom huffed, speeding up slightly. "Yeah, yeah, Detective Jones, whatever. Just don't expect a gold star."
Arthur laughed, keeping up with her pace. "Fine. But I'll take your silence as admiration."
Phantom grumbled something under her breath but didn't argue further. The two continued walking, side by side, in a silent but not-so-hostile truce.
After a while...
Wilson was carrying Sarla on his back. She had exhausted herself with all the talking and walking, her tiny arms wrapped around his shoulders as she dozed off.
Arthur glanced at her peaceful face and couldn't help but smile. At the same time, Phantom also looked at her and smiled softly.
But the moment their eyes met, realizing they had the same reaction, they immediately turned their heads in opposite directions, their smiles vanishing in an instant.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Tch, whatever."
Phantom crossed her arms. "Hmph, don't copy me."
Wilson, still carrying Sarla, sighed. "You two are worse than kids."
Phantom and Arthur exclaimed at the same time, "No, we are not!!"
Their sudden outburst startled Wilson, making him nearly lose his balance while carrying Sarla. "Sheesh! You two almost made me drop her!" he complained.
"No! Please don't hurt me! Ahh!!"
A terrified scream echoed from the opposite side of the road.
Arthur, Phantom, and Wilson froze for a second, their eyes widening. Then, without hesitation, they bolted toward the source of the scream, their hearts pounding with urgency. Sarla, still half-asleep in Wilson's arms, stirred as the sudden movement jostled her.
Arthur glanced at Wilson. "Stay here with Sarla."
Phantom nodded. "Yeah, take care of her."
Wilson hesitated but then gave a firm nod, adjusting his hold on the drowsy Sarla.
Without wasting another second, Arthur and Phantom sprinted toward the source of the scream, their footsteps pounding against the ground as tension filled the air.
Arthur and Phantom skidded to a halt in front of a dimly lit house. Through the open door, they saw a man swinging a belt, striking a woman who cowered on the floor.
"You broke the dishes! Can your father even afford to replace one? You worthless bitch!" he roared, his voice filled with rage as he raised the belt for another strike.
The woman's cries of pain and fear echoed through the house. Phantom clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Arthur's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a step forward.
"Enough! " he muttered, eyes locked on the man.
Arthur was about to storm in when Phantom grabbed his arm, holding him back with a firm grip.
"Cool your head!.." she whispered, her voice steady but urgent. "We can't just barge into someone's house like this. It's private property."
Arthur turned his head sharply, his eyes blazing. "You expect me to just stand here and do nothing while that bastard—"
"I don't like it, either. " Phantom cut him off, tightening her grip. "But if we act without thinking, we might make things worse. We need proof. If we report this to Chief, he'll handle it the right way."
Arthur clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm. Every fiber of his being wanted to step in and stop the abuse right then and there, but Phantom's logic made sense. If they interfered now, the man might find a way to cover his tracks.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if Chief doesn't do anything, I swear I'll handle it myself."
Phantom gave a small nod. "Then let's go ."
With one last glance at the trembling woman inside, they turned away and ran back toward the mansion.
They sprinted back as fast as their legs could carry them, their hearts pounding with urgency. As soon as they reached Wilson and Sarla, Arthur barely took a breath before grabbing Wilson's arm.
"No time to explain, we need to go!" he said, his voice sharp with urgency.
Phantom scooped up Sarla without hesitation. "Hold on tight," she whispered to the little girl before breaking into a run.
Wilson, confused but sensing the seriousness, didn't protest and simply followed their lead. Together, they bolted toward the mansion, their minds racing just as fast as their feet.
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
By the time they reached the mansion, the sky had darkened, and the clock neared 𝟳 𝗣𝗠. Gasping for breath, Arthur and Phantom burst through the entrance, their voices echoing through the hall as they called for Chief.
Heavy footsteps sounded from the staircase before Chief appeared, his sharp gaze scanning their faces. "What happened? " he asked, his tone calm but firm.
Arthur and Phantom quickly recounted everything—the man, the beating, the woman's screams. Their words were rushed, but Chief listened with unwavering seriousness, his expression darkening with every detail.
The moment they finished, he didn't hesitate. "Everyone stays inside," he ordered, his voice carrying authority. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out, his posture tense with purpose.
[𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵]
Chief arrived at the house and knocked firmly on the door.
A man opened it, his expression shifting slightly at the sight of the uniformed officer. "Hello, officer."
Chief's gaze remained steady. "I am the Chief Superintendent of this district. May I step in?"
The man hesitated for a brief moment before forcing a smile. "Of course, sir. How can I help you?"
A tense conversation followed, with Chief's words sharp yet controlled. The man's demeanor shifted between nervousness and forced politeness, but Chief didn't let up. His presence alone was enough to make the man uncomfortable.
Though his purpose there wasn't fulfilled, Chief turned and left.
Upon returning to the mansion, Chief stood before Arthur and Phantom. His gaze was piercing, the weight of authority pressing down on them as they awaited his response.
Chief let out a heavy sigh. "There was nothing. No woman. I believe he either hid her or... her body. But without solid evidence, I couldn't do anything. I don't have a proper warrant, so I'm powerless for now." His tone was calm, but the frustration in his eyes was evident.
Arthur's face darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, Phantom swiftly covered it with her hand. "Not now," she whispered sharply, her own expression tense.
Chief glanced at them briefly before turning away, heading back upstairs. The room fell silent, thick with unspoken words and frustration.
Phantom firmly grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him toward their room. Arthur resisted for a moment, his jaw clenched, but Phantom's grip tightened.
"Just come ," she muttered, dragging him inside and shutting the door behind them. The air between them was tense, the weight of what they had witnessed pressing down on both of them.
As soon as they entered the room, Arthur spun around, his frustration boiling over.
"Why did you stop me?!" he demanded, his voice sharp with anger.
Phantom's expression remained firm. "It wasn't right to blame Chief. He's a man of duty. He did what he could."
Arthur scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "Oh? Or is he just your father?"
Phantom's face darkened. "Arthur! —"
"Shut up!" Arthur cut her off, his voice rising. His fists clenched at his sides. "I left that job because of the police! I hated how criminals wiped away every trace before the police could even begin their investigation. And the way I work... it never fits with how the police want to handle things!"
His breathing grew heavy, his frustration mixing with something deeper—something unresolved. Then, he stood up abruptly, his eyes shadowed with something darker than anger.
"This is why I hate it," he spoke, his voice trembling with rage. "Men, women—both are equally despicable!"
Phantom took an unconscious step back, sensing something shifting in him.
Arthur's anger flared violently. His hand shot up, fingers curled as if gripping something invisible—may be something sharp and deadly. His arm trembled as he pointed it at Phantom.
"People are dying because of this nonsense you believe in!" His voice was no longer just angry—it was laced with raw fury. "You think both men and women should be treated equally? Then tell me—why is it that in the end, neither ever truly is? Either the victim dies, or the criminal escapes. That's the only truth."
His breathing was ragged, his body shaking. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, but the intensity in it made Phantom's stomach churn.
"You like keeping your real face hidden, don't you?" Arthur's eyes bore into hers. "Well, I like keeping this anger hidden too."
And with that final, seething declaration, his body suddenly gave out. His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Phantom, who had been steadily retreating toward the wall, felt her back press against it. She hadn't seen him like this before. Her heart pounded, fear creeping into her chest—not for herself, but for what Arthur was becoming.
Just then, the door creaked open.
"I should get some sleep—" Wilson mumbled as he stepped inside.
But the moment he laid eyes on the scene before him—Arthur lying motionless on the floor, Phantom sitting against the wall, pale and shaken—his drowsiness vanished.
"Arthur!" he shouted, rushing to his brother's side. "Are you all right?!"
Wilson's voice snapped through the heavy silence.
"Hey, Phantom! What happened to him?!"
But Phantom didn't respond. She was still sitting against the wall, her body rigid, her face eerily motionless.
Wilson's concern deepened. He knelt beside Arthur, shaking his shoulder gently. "Arthur, wake up!"
Still, Phantom didn't move. Her wide, unfocused eyes were locked on Arthur, but it was as if she wasn't really seeing him. Her mind was elsewhere—trapped in the weight of Arthur's words, in the raw, unfiltered rage she had just witnessed.
Wilson turned toward her. "Phantom! Say something!"
But Phantom just sat there, silent and frozen, as if the moment had paralyzed her.
Wilson's eyes widened in horror as Arthur's left eye darkened into a deep, unnatural red. Strange burn-like marks crept across his skin, pulsing as if something beneath was trying to surface.
Panicking, Wilson sprang to his feet and bolted toward the attached bathroom. His hands fumbled for a mug, filled it hastily with water, and rushed back. Without hesitation, he threw the entire mug of water onto Arthur's face.
The cold splash jolted Arthur's body. The eerie redness in his eye faded, and the burns slowly receded, disappearing as if they had never been there. His breathing, which had turned ragged, steadied.
Wilson, still gripping the empty mug, exhaled in relief. But a sinking feeling settled in his chest.
{"What the hell was that?"}
Phantom finally found the strength to move. Her body still trembled slightly as she forced out the words, "What… was that?"
Wilson clenched his jaw, glancing at Arthur's now peaceful face. He sighed and turned to Phantom. "I'll tell you tomorrow." His voice was firm but weary. "For now, just get some sleep."
Phantom hesitated, her curiosity burning, but seeing Wilson's serious expression, she knew she wouldn't get an answer tonight. She nodded silently and pulled herself up, her mind still racing as the room fell into an uneasy silence.
𝗧𝗼 𝗕𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱...
" Next part "Wake Up" will arrive on 𝟰th april "