A tall, muscular figure stepped into the room. His boots clicked sharply against the cold floor, announcing his presence. He paused briefly, scanning the dimly lit room before locking eyes on the investigation board. The wall was cluttered with papers, pinned maps, and red strings connecting faces and locations—clearly, this was Yuri’s work.

Bruno crossed his arms, a slight smirk playing on his lips. So this is where I’ll be working on the case, he thought, his gaze drifting to Yuri, who sat nearby. Without hesitation, Bruno approached, his heavy footsteps betraying his confidence.

"Looks like you’ve been digging deep, Yuri," Bruno remarked casually, resting his hand on Yuri’s shoulder as he surveyed the board. "I wonder why they called me in then."

Yuri’s eyes narrowed in disgust, shrugging off Bruno’s hand with a sharp movement. "Take your hand off me, Bruno," he muttered, barely containing his irritation. He stood up, straightening his posture as tension crackled in the air between them.

Bruno’s grin widened. "Oh dear, did I get on your bad side already?" He raised both hands in mock apology. "Sorry about that, but now we’re in this together, so don’t slack off, Yuri."

The air grew heavier as the two men stood facing each other, neither willing to back down. Their animosity was palpable.

Yuri, clearly annoyed, gestured toward the board. "It’s all there. I don’t need to explain anything to you." He turned to walk out, but Bruno’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

"So, it’s settled then. Pinnochi’s the culprit." Bruno’s tone was nonchalant, as if the matter was already closed.

Yuri paused mid-step, his back still facing Bruno. Slowly, he turned, his expression cold and unreadable. "I never said Pinnochi was the culprit," he corrected. "He’s only on the list because he wasn’t around the day of the mission. So who told you to jump to conclusions?"

Yuri's gaze was sharp, cutting through the room with precision. He gave a serious face, waiting for a response.

Bruno raised an eyebrow. "I saw it clearly," he countered, pointing to the board. "Based on the options there, it has to be this Pinnochi guy. Anyway, what makes you think someone like Spectre, a Special Division, would commit such a crime, Yuri?"

Yuri’s eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and irritation. "You said it yourself," he began, "because he’s part of a Special Division, he’s the only one who’d have access to that much information about WCM, excluding the Hire-Ups."

"Oh, really? Stop dreaming, Yuri," Bruno snapped back, taking a step closer. His voice lowered, filled with venom. "Why would a Special Grade officer do that? Even if he did, how do you expect to find proof against someone who could wipe away any trace of evidence?"

Bruno closed the distance between them, his presence now imposing. "But sure," he continued, his voice oozing with calculated malice. "Let’s say Pinnochi did it. I can manufacture evidence to back it up. I mean, don’t you want to climb up the ranks? A little promotion never hurt, right?"

Yuri smirked, seeing right through Bruno’s intentions. "Ah, I see. So, it’s all about that promotion, huh? How long have you been stuck as a First Division officer, Bruno?" Yuri mocked. "I suppose you’re dying to wear that Special Division badge."

Yuri's smirk deepened, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Don’t worry, Bruno. A patient dog eats the fattest bone, right? Even if it takes you ten years, you’ll get that shiny promotion eventually."

Bruno’s face twisted in anger, his fists clenched tightly. "How dare you talk to me like that!"

Yuri remained unfazed, his tone light and casual. "Aren’t we the same rank?" he asked, cocking his head slightly. "There’s no need for formalities."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Without waiting for a response, Yuri turned toward the board. He picked up a marker, his movements slow and deliberate, and scribbled something down. The tension in the room thickened with every stroke of the marker.

Bruno’s rage boiled over. "What the hell are you doing?" he shouted, storming toward Yuri. His eyes flared as he saw his name added to the list of suspects.

Yuri, calm as ever, leaned back and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, I just remembered you weren’t part of the team that went on the mission either," he said with a smirk. "So, it’s either Pinnochi… or Bruno. I’m excited to see which one of you is guilty."

With that, Yuri tossed the marker onto the table and strode out of the room, leaving Bruno seething in his wake, fists trembling with fury.

Lockey opened his eyes, his vision blurry as the familiar white ceiling was now black, dotted with mold. His head throbbed, his body weak. Slowly, his surroundings came into focus—This isn't the interrogation room, he thought, feeling an unease settle in his chest. His eyes widened as he recalled Pinnochi mentioning a cell. “The cell,” he murmured, feeling the realization sink in.

He sat up, groggy and disoriented, on a filthy bed. Glancing around, he noticed he wasn't alone—two women shared the same cell, both staring at him.

“You're awake,” one of them said, her tone dismissive. “Hard to sleep on such a dirty bed, but I guess men are men, always accepting what’s given to them.” The other woman giggled mockingly, their eyes gleaming with amusement.

Lockey barely acknowledged them, scanning the room, trying to orient himself. His gaze settled on his wrist—a restraint, preventing him from accessing his Key. His mind, though foggy, noted every detail. The two women continued to observe him, whispering and laughing quietly.

Heeey, Lockey. A voice echoed in his head, startling him. Confused, he closed his eyes. I must still be messed up from the drugs, he thought.

No, you’re fine. I drained the effect from you, the voice insisted, clearer now.

Lockey frowned, rubbing his temple. “I see… so that’s why I’m hearing things…” His voice sounded strained, exhausted. “I think I need more rest before I lose it completely.”

The voice sighed, frustrated. It’s me, Pinnochi, you fungus. I attached a bacteria to your brain that allows us to communicate telepathically. You hear my thoughts, and I hear yours.

Lockey groaned internally. You could’ve mentioned that earlier. I’m barely functioning as it is. I feel sluggish and I can’t think straight.

Pinnochi’s voice returned in his head, more lighthearted. So, how long do you think you can last? Three more days of this hell?

Lockey scratched his head, his energy drained. Judging by how you're talking, I’m guessing things went south?

Yeah, Pinnochi confirmed, we aborted the Vault retrieval, but we’re trying to steal the data from Site 22 instead. The problem is, I still don’t know where Site 22 is. It’s like no one working here, aside from the higher-ups, knows.

Lockey massaged his temple, sighing in frustration. I’m not used to this telepathic stuff. It’s giving me a headache.

The women giggled again, one of them calling out. “You bored already? Maybe we can help lighten your mood.”

Lockey ignored them, focusing on the conversation in his head. So you don’t know where Site 22 is... But I remember the location, at least parts of it. It’s a bit fuzzy, but it’s there.

Really? Pinnochi’s voice sounded surprised, excited.

Lockey winced, rubbing his temple harder. Stop yelling in my head.

Sorry, sorry, Pinnochi replied, his tone more subdued. What do you remember?

Lockey strained, his memories jumbled from the torment he’d endured. It was like… coordinates. The place doesn’t move, but it’s hard to find because… well, think of it like a bus stop. The building stays still, but something—maybe a transport—moves to take people there. It wasn’t a bus, though. It was like… a tube. It sucked us up like we were being abducted by aliens or something.

Pinnochi’s voice returned thoughtfully. A tube, huh? That’s something we can work with. Do you remember anything else?

Lockey paused, piecing together the hazy fragments of his memory. 16:16. I remember someone saying that time. Something about not missing it, like it was crucial. I also heard them mention identical times—times like 03:03, 10:10.

Identical times, Pinnochi mused. Interesting. What day was it when you last remember?

Friday, Lockey replied, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

Perfect, Pinnochi’s voice chirped. In three days, it’ll be Friday again. If we time this right, we could use that tube to our advantage. But we still need to find where the tube shows up.

There was a brief silence before Pinnochi broke it. I’ll find out before the three days are up. Just hang in there.

Lockey let out a weary sigh. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got my own business to take care of too.

As the cell fell back into uneasy quiet, the chapter ended, leaving both Lockey and Pinnochi with an uncertain plan and the clock ticking down.