Sahil_Mishra_5530

Justice wears many faces. But when the mask is torn away—what remains?

In the rain-slicked alleys of Liverpool, a brutal serial killer known only as the Grim Reaper leaves behind cryptic messages and a trail of bodies. The city is drowning in fear, and the line between law and chaos is fading fast.

Enter Alexander Bluestone—a detective unlike any other. Cold, calculating, and unapologetically Machiavellian, he is a man who believes in control over compassion, precision over morality. Tasked with tracking the Reaper, Alexander begins a relentless hunt that spirals into a deeper conspiracy of corruption, psychological warfare, and betrayal.

As alliances shift and blood is spilled, Alexander is joined by the deadly assassin Roselia Dukeforth, the sharp-witted Madison Oakwell, and the fiery Darmian Shakesforth. But even as they uncover the truth, the darkness inside Alexander threatens to consume him. Because in a game where every move is fatal… sometimes the devil wears a detective’s badge.


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A psychological crime thriller packed with deadly wit, moral dilemmas, high-stakes mind games, and a protagonist who may be more terrifying than the killer he hunts.

The Devil Of Justice

Rose's hands trembled as she took a step back. Her voice, filled with both fear and disbelief, broke the silence.

Madison and Darmian didn't speak. They couldn't. The sheer brutality of Alexander's decision had left them speechless.

The teenage boy, now on his knees, clutched his father's unmoving body. His eyes were wide with grief and shock, his breath coming out in short, panicked gasps.

The boy turned toward him, his face twisted in pain. "You… you killed my father!"

The security guard groaned. His fingers twitched.

The boy gasped, his sorrow turning into confusion.

Slowly, the guard sat up, his chest heaving, the bulletproof vest beneath his uniform absorbing the impact.

"Relax, kid. I knew you'd be too much of a crybaby if I actually killed him."

The guard, still shaken but unharmed, looked down at the dent in his vest. He placed a hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath.

The man staggered to his feet. He looked at Alexander, at his own son, and then back at the detective who had just saved them both in the most ruthless way possible.

He walked forward and hugged his son tightly.

The boy's hands clutched his father's back, his fear melting into relief.

"T-Thank you…" the man finally said, his voice hoarse. "I don't know how to repay you."

Alexander waved him off. "You already did."

They stood there, in awe—yet again.

CHAPTER 39: DECIDER