Everything in Adrian's vision halted as if someone had pressed the pause button. He could clearly see his body stabbing the victim with the same knife he had found earlier. Confused, Adrian thought, *Am I seeing how the victim died? Am I hallucinating, or is this just something this body can do? If this vision is true, then I'm screwed. There has to be a way out. There's no way the previous owner was dumb enough to kill someone without a plan to avoid getting caught.*

Adrian paced around the vision, searching for anything that could help him. He noticed something out of place: a small girl, who seemed incredibly poor, wearing tattered clothes with dirty hair. She was leaving through the door. The main thing Adrian spotted about the girl was her right sleeve, which was ripped off. Aside from the girl, Adrian couldn’t find anything of use. He tried to exit the vision by saying, "Stop. Leave. Quit. Exit." But nothing happened.

Adrian reached out to touch Albert, and suddenly his vision snapped back to the present. No time seemed to have passed. He was still standing over the body, with Klint looking at him. Trying to maintain the appearance of knowing what he was doing, Adrian said, "The killer caught the victim by surprise—no signs of struggle. One stab to the chest; the victim died immediately."

Klint, who hadn't stepped into the bedroom, looked grim. He wasn’t used to being near dead bodies. Trying to write down what Adrian said, Klint was overcome by the smell and sight of the body. He fell to his knees and vomited.

Adrian, who had served in the military, remembered his own reaction the first time he saw a dead body. He walked over to check on Klint and said, "First time seeing a dead body, huh? It’s normal to puke. Go outside for a bit, get some fresh air, and then come back."

"Yes, sir," Klint replied, before quickly stepping outside.

As soon as Klint left, Adrian heard whispers in his mind, like a hundred people speaking at once. His head throbbed painfully, as if someone had taken a metal bat to it. He fell to the floor, barely able to stay conscious, but the whispering stopped after ten agonizing seconds.

Adrian slowly got up, thinking, *What the hell was that?* He took a moment to clear his mind before using the time that Klint was outside to check his pockets. Adrian noticed that he reeked of booze. *The previous owner must have been a drunkard,* he thought. He searched his pockets further and found a police badge—a star-shaped crest with a crown on top, marked with J 918. *That must be the start of my name and badge number,* Adrian mused.

Going deeper into his pockets, Adrian found a piece of torn cloth. He recognized it immediately. *It’s the sleeve of that girl.* Realization dawned on him. *The previous owner's plan must have been to plant this torn cloth on Albert's body and frame the girl for the murder. It’s a good plan, but it doesn’t feel right to frame an innocent girl and ruin her life. I'll keep it as an option, but I’d rather not use it.* Adrian shoved the torn cloth back into his pocket.

Klint walked back in, and Adrian asked, "You feeling better?"

"Somewhat, sir," Klint replied.

"Let's get back to the examination," Adrian said. He searched the room for evidence and opened a drawer full of gold coins. It was apparent that a decent amount had been taken. *The missing coins probably set up the scenario of the girl trying to steal, getting caught, then stabbing the victim and running away,* Adrian thought.

He turned to Klint and said, "Some of the coins have been stolen. The murder could be the byproduct of a thief being caught."

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Klint shook his head slightly. "I don’t fully agree with that, sir. If a thief gets caught, it would make more sense to threaten the victim and run away. It’s unlikely they’d commit murder. The victim would have tried to struggle or escape if they were in danger, but there’s no sign of that. It seems unlikely that this was a thief turned murderer."

Adrian hadn't expected Klint to disagree with him and was momentarily at a loss for words. "Good point. We’re finished at the crime scene. We need to take witness statements. Who reported the body?"

"The upstairs neighbor, sir," Klint replied.

"Let's go take his statement," Adrian said.

They left the house, and as they stepped outside, Adrian took in his surroundings. The streets were paved with granite, a horse-drawn carriage passed by, and industrial smoke filled the air. Men in old-timey suits and top hats strolled around with canes, and small apartment buildings lined the streets, their windows blocked by bricks. *This place seems a lot like Victorian England—a far cry from the modern world,* Adrian thought.

He turned to see stairs leading up to the second floor of the house. Adrian and Klint climbed the stairs until they reached a door. *Police officers would typically introduce themselves, but I don’t know my name. I’ll have to make up an excuse to get Klint to do it,* Adrian thought.

"Klint, you need some practice. You do the introductions," Adrian said.

Klint was a bit confused but nodded. "Okay, sir." He knocked on the door.

After about five seconds, a man opened the door. He looked very old, with white hair and a tobacco pipe in his hand.

Klint said, "Sir, we’re with the police. I’m Constable Klint Shaw, and this is Inspector John Davis. We’re here to ask about the death of Albert Clarke. May I ask your name and occupation?"

The man responded, "Arthur Brown. I’m a landlord."

Klint took out a notebook and turned to Adrian, looking at him expectantly. *I think he wants me to ask the questions,* Adrian thought.

"What was your relationship with the victim?" Adrian asked.

Arthur replied, "He started leasing the downstairs apartment from me about a month ago. I didn’t really interact with him much other than that. The fellow wasn’t very talkative."

"How and when did you find the body of the victim?" Adrian asked.

"Last night. I hadn’t seen the fellow come out of his house all day, so I knocked on his door. After not getting a response, I opened it with the spare key I had. As soon as I saw the body, I left and reported it to the police," Arthur explained.

"When was the last time you saw the victim?" Adrian continued.

"The night before last. I saw him go into his house with someone else following behind him. It was around 11."

"Can you describe the person who was behind him?" Adrian asked.

"It was a man about the same height as you. I didn’t get a good look at him to describe him further," Arthur said.

"Did you hear anything strange that night?" Adrian asked.

"The walls between the floors aren’t thin enough for me to hear anything, and my ears don’t work like they used to, so the answer is no," Arthur replied.

"What was your impression of the victim?" Adrian asked.

"The man was suspicious as hell. He was always paranoid and barely ever left his house. He didn’t work, yet he still had money. I would see him sometimes leave the house at night. I think he was a thief," Arthur concluded.

Adrian had no more questions left, so he said, "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Brown. That’s all we needed."

"Always happy to help the law. Hopefully, you find that murdering scum," Arthur said.

Adrian and Klint walked back down the stairs. Adrian asked, "Are there any other witnesses?"

Klint nodded. "One other passerby. She was questioned already. The only thing she heard was someone shouting, 'Albert, you lying sack of shit! I’ll kill you!' around 11 o’clock."

Adrian said, "The victim was a thief. The man who followed him into the house was probably his partner. The victim must have lied to the person, likely in a dispute over their cut of the money. The person killed Albert, then took the money and ran. Our best bet of finding the killer is looking into Albert’s past, but that’s not our job. Book a carriage to the station. Let’s go report our findings."

*So the vision was true. I can see the last moments of a person's life, but it seems to come with the downside of my head hurting like hell. This world seems normal, but there's something off about it—something supernatural. I have to learn more about this place,* Adrian thought.

He heard Klint say to the carriage driver, "Wesker Street Police Station." Adrian and Klint climbed into the carriage.