The next morning, the entire precinct was in an uproar, as if struck by an earthquake. News of Simon's death spread faster than a plague. His body was found at his suburban villa, but more horrific than the death itself was the way he had been "displayed." Those first on the scene were left retching at a level of brutality that defied human limits.
I sat frozen at my desk, my coffee long cold. Simon was dead? The powerful, cunning man who had threatened me just the night before was now nothing more than a shapeless mass of flesh? A vague, creeping terror seeped into my cells, chilling my spine.
"Hime, you're spacing out again."
A warm voice spoke near my ear, accompanied by a light hand on my shoulder. I flinched, nearly spilling my coffee. Mike stood there, looking at me with eyes full of concern and tenderness, as if he were completely oblivious to the storm raging outside.
"I heard the news. That Simon guy... it's horrific. But at least he can't bother you anymore. Shouldn't you feel relieved?"
Mike knelt beside my chair, taking my trembling hand and squeezing it gently. He looked straight into my eyes, his pitch-black pupils seemingly swirling into my mind, trying to pour in a false sense of security.
I stared at his long, clean, spotless hands. A frantic thought flashed through my mind. How could Simon die right after Mike threatened him? Why did the cameras always "glitch" at the perfect time? And why... did Mike look so disturbingly calm?
"Mike..." I pulled my hand back, my voice shaking. "Do you know anything about this? Why is everything happening so... coincidentally?"
Mike paused for a heartbeat, the smile on his lips stiffening before returning to his usual playful mask. He tilted his head, looking at me with a face so innocent it was almost mocking.
"Are you suspecting me? I'm just a lowly warden, Hime. How could I possibly break into Simon's villa without a trace? It must have been one of his enemies; he lived a foul life, after all."
Mike leaned in closer, his minty breath brushing against my face, his voice suddenly dropping into a low, haunting tone:
"But if it were me... would you hate me? Or would you be touched that I cleared away the man who hurt you?..~"
I shivered, abruptly pushing my chair back to distance myself from the suggestive heat radiating from Mike. His question felt like a linguistic snare; whether I answered "yes" or "no," I'd be surrendering myself to a demon.
"Don't joke like that, Mike. It's not funny."
I stood up quickly, evading the crimson gaze that seemed poised to swallow me whole. Just then, a commotion from the main gate shattered the stifling atmosphere. A colleague rushed in, his face beaming with excitement:
"Hey, hot news! We've got a newcomer. A female warden, supposedly the same age as you, Mike. She's gorgeous, like a movie star!"
I paused, my attention involuntarily shifting toward the door. A girl stepped in, her uniform fitting perfectly, her hair in a lively high ponytail with a radiant smile. She looked vibrant—a stark contrast to the grim, deathly air that had haunted me all morning. Her arrival was a breath of fresh air, drawing gasps of admiration from the men in the room.
I stole a glance at Mike, curious to see his reaction to such a beautiful peer. However, Mike didn't even bother to turn his head. He remained in his half-kneeling position, his pitch-black eyes still locked onto me, his face twisted in clear annoyance at the interruption of our private moment.
"How annoying," Mike clicked his tongue, his voice dropping into a disgruntled low. He stood up, his towering frame overshadowing me once more, completely ignoring the rookie girl as she approached to introduce herself.
He leaned close to my ear, whispering in a tone laced with mad jealousy:
"What are you looking at? Don't pay attention to irrelevant trash. In your eyes, I should be the only one who matters, right?"
The newcomer was named Yuchi. She didn't bother hiding her intentions from day one, fluttering around Mike like a persistent butterfly. Yuchi had "the looks," and she was damn confident that her charms would easily bring the young genius warden to his knees.
"Hi, Senior Mike! I heard you were the precinct's resident genius, but I didn't expect you to be even more handsome in person."
Yuchi giggled, intentionally leaning into him, her hand "accidentally" brushing against his forearm. I stood right there, witnessing the whole thing. A prickle of annoyance rose in my chest, but I told myself it was just concern for my junior.
Mike, once again, surprised me. He didn't reciprocate at all; instead, his entire body went rigid. He didn't even grant Yuchi a single glance, his eyes fixated solely on my reaction. I saw a vein on his temple twitch, and his grip on his coffee cup tightened so much I thought it might shatter.
"Get back."
Mike growled, taking a sharp step away. His tone was ice-cold, stripped of all his usual playfulness. Yuchi faltered for a second but pushed on with a thick skin:
"You're so cold! I'm new here, there's so much I don't know, maybe you could show me the ropes..."
"I'm busy."
Mike cut her off, then suddenly turned to me. His gaze shifted from frigid to pleading in an instant, as if desperately trying to prove his "innocence." In reality, Mike's mind was screaming with a primal instinct: he wanted to crush this girl's throat for daring to touch him in front of Hime. He was holding back—struggling intensely—simply because he didn't want blood splattering his uniform or forcing Hime to witness another gruesome scene.
Mike grabbed my hand, pulling me away in a hurry, muttering just loud enough for me to hear:
"Did you see? I didn't even look at her. Don't be mad at me, and don't you dare push me toward someone else, or I'll lose my mind."