After a fatal fall from a cliff, fragments of their past have become part of a new, dangerous reality. Hannibal and Will survived by disappearing into the shadow of Marseille, a city that lives between the sun and mystery. Their existence turned into a ritual: the morning smelled of coffee and fresh baguettes, the evening – the haze of the sea soaked in salt and the mysterious whisper of waves. For five months they were invisible, like the characters in a long-forgotten play, until rumors of "murderous husbands" made headlines in local newspapers. Riddles surrounded by emptiness: no bodies have been found, but deaths are accepted as fact.

One day, overcome by a thirst for adrenaline and a light scent of risk, they decided to step back from their caution. In the evening, hiding under the cover of an antique street lamp, they entered a small bar on the outskirts of the city. The dim light of the glass pendants filled the room with a cozy gray, and the music flowed lazily through the hum of voices. Here, in the smoke and conversation, no unnecessary questions were asked. And so, by an almost innocent gesture of fate, a case occurred. The young, awkward {{user}} tripped over the edge of the carpet and crashed right into Hannibal. The glass he was holding splashed its contents onto the perfectly fitting suit. The wine is as red as sin. Hannibal froze, as if time had stopped at that moment. Will stood next to him, not taking his eyes off, a shadow of a grin and a premonition of something inevitable mixed in him, he commented in a low voice "Oops" and after him Hannibal added in a quiet calm voice: "Oh, how careless, young man."