We both leaned against the car, taking in the view of West Antapolis, which was as bright as ever with its dizzying neon lights. The city stretched out before us, a patchwork of glowing signs, casting vibrant reflections on the wet streets below. Behind us, a winding ‘S’-shaped road snaked through a thick forest, the trees swaying gently as the wind picked up in brief spurts. The rain had slowed to a lazy drizzle, hissing as it hit the ground, the air heavy with moisture and the scent of wet earth.

Noodles and beer—the signature West Antapolis combo. I stirred the noodles in my cup with chopsticks, the steam rising in soft curls. Jane mimicked the action beside me, her cup emitting the same warmth into the cool evening air.

“Well,” she said after a while, “on the outside, it’s a good city.”

“Yeah,” I replied, taking in the neon spectacle. “A good city to look at, not to live in.”

She chuckled lightly. “Heh, right.” She took a mouthful of noodles, chewing slowly as she gazed at the distant skyline.

I ate in silence too, the city reflecting in my eyes. Every now and then, even a place like West Antapolis could offer a rare feeling of tranquility, like the world was catching its breath. The glow of the lights felt softer, less harsh, and the rhythm of the rain was almost soothing. For once, it was easy to forget the chaos that lurked behind the walls of the city, hidden beneath the neon façade. Even here, in the heart of the storm, there were pockets of calm.

“How’s your mom?” Jane asked, breaking the silence.

I swallowed a bite of noodles and paused. “She’s good. Gonna visit her tonight.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do,” I nodded, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

Jane took a swig from her beer can, then set it down on the hood of the car. Her eyes stayed fixed on the horizon for a while before she turned to me.

“I wonder what old Antapolis was like,” she mused.

“Yeah… I wonder,”

Years ago, the civil war that broke out in Antapolis was named the "Black Despair." Natural disasters destroyed the bridges, cutting off all access to the city and plunging Antapolis into chaos. Helicopters and ships carrying supplies couldn’t even approach the city due to severe weather conditions.

As natural resources dwindled, the people—driven to madness by the sixty-three days without aid—lost their sanity. In a frenzy for even a crumb of bread, they started attacking each other, friend and foe alike, trampling those they once called allies. Survival became the only priority, and the key to making it through was to think only of oneself and keep expectations as low as possible.

The city, bleeding from within, saw crime rates soar, and eventually, it split into East Antapolis and West Antapolis. In a tragic turn of events, East Antapolis attacked the West on the afternoon of the sixty-third day—just three hours before aid was set to arrive—suffering a devastating defeat and losing tens of thousands of lives.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Jane stretched her arms lazily, lighting a cigarette as the smoke curled upward. “Antapolis used to be such a small city…”

“Yeah. Now it’s just a giant shithole,” I muttered, tossing my empty cup into a nearby bin.

Jane exhaled a long drag from her cigarette and flicked the ashes onto the ground. “Ugh… Well—let’s get out of here, C. Big Don’s waiting.”

I nodded, crumpling the beer can and chucking it after the cup. “Let’s go.”

---

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and we stepped out, heading down the corridor toward the interrogation room. Inside, we could hear James and Leo speaking in calm, measured tones, while Don’s sniffling and whimpering filled the gaps. The moment we entered the room, ‘Big’ Don jumped, his eyes wide as they darted between us, trembling as if we were wolves cornering him. Jane slammed the door deliberately, the noise echoing through the small room. She walked over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“So,” she began. “Let’s…”

“I want my lawyer!” Don blurted, his voice cracking. “I ain’t saying shit without one! It’s my right!”

Leo leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his voice smooth but laced with menace. “Oh, don’t worry, Don. You’ll get your lawyer, alright. But I have a strange feeling… Like you might end up in a cell with a wraith if you wait too long. You know, one of those nasty ones that get a little… bitey. And with the way things go around here, papers might get shuffled around, people might get misplaced.” He smirked. “What a weird gut feeling, huh?”

Of course, Leo was bullshiting, we didn’t have any evidence to put him behind bars. But—our suspect didn’t seem like a clever guy… or had over at least 45 IQ. I was positive that Leo’s bluff worked on him.

Don’s eyes widened as the threat sank in. He shifted in his seat, glancing nervously between us, sweat beading on his forehead. His lip quivered as he leaned in closer, desperation in his voice. “I swear, I don’t know nothin’ about that girl’s death. I swear!”

“She worked for you, didn’t she?” Leo’s tone softened slightly, though the tension still hung in the air. “You were her pimp, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I helped her find clients,” Don stammered, rubbing his hands together anxiously. “But not just anyone! High-end clients, you know? She had standards, man. Wouldn’t deal with regular folk. Only the rich and… you know, elite.”

I crossed my arms, watching Don squirm. “Did any of those clients stand out? Someone who might’ve gotten too attached… or dangerous?”

Don’s eyes darted to mine, then back to the table. “One guy… yeah, just one. Name’s Jacob Bullward.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You better not be pulling names out of your ass, Don. We’re not here to play games.”

“I’m not! I swear!” Don almost jumped out of his chair, voice high-pitched and pleading. “This guy… he had this sick, twisted fetish. Wanted Alisha to dress like a schoolgirl, pretend she was his daughter. Real freaky shit, man.”

Jane leaned forward, her voice cutting through the tension. “Where can we find him? And when did they meet last?”

Don licked his lips nervously, thinking. “Little Istanbul. That’s where he’s holed up. Last time he saw her was about a week ago.”

“Little Istanbul?” Leo’s brow furrowed. “I thought you said she only worked with rich clients. What rich bastard lives in that part of town?”

Don threw his hands up, exasperated. “I don’t know! I swear, I got no clue. The guy’s rich, but why he’s there… beats me.”

I exchanged a glance with Leo, who shook his head in frustration. “Alright, when did you last see Alisha?”

“A week ago. Right before she went to meet that sicko. Swear on my momma, man, I didn’t see her after that.”

Leo sighed, rubbing his temples. “Okay, C. Let’s check out Little Istanbul, see if we can find this Bullward. You and me. Jane, James—you stay here and handle the paperwork.”

Jane gave a nod. “Got it. Keep us posted.”

“Where exactly can we find this guy in Little Istanbul?” I asked.

Don bit his lip. “He’s one of Atilla’s men. That’s all I know.”

Leo groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Atilla? Fucking Atilla… Just great.”

“Looks like we won’t be meeting up at Golden Cats tonight, huh?” James muttered, shaking his head.

“Nope,” I replied, heading for the door. “What a joke of a case…”