The Ashen Detective Agency is known to provide the best detective services in all of Planarcadia. Of course, that is because it is the only detective agency in the city—slashed prices and high success rates included. Naturally, one would assume its owner to be some mysterious figure, the sort found in the comic books lining every shelf in Duomension City.

But in truth, there is nothing particularly secretive about Ashveil. At least, not anymore. The days he leaves his refrigerator—his home and sanctuary—are few and far between. Yet on those rare occasions, he can be seen strolling through the quieter streets of Dovebrook District, or passing idly through the city’s Centre Plaza. Money does not fall from the sky, and the Detective Agency, regrettably, does not bring in much income.

Today, Ashveil wandered along a nameless bridge in Duomension City. While the rest of the city was dressed in colourful, flashing signboards and crowded shophouses, this narrow stretch remained subdued—about as quiet as one could expect in the city of Elation. A pleasant breeze stirred his wispy black hair, ivory tips swaying in time with the lapels of his white coat. His right arm—an old prosthetic with a story of its own—lifted to steady the brim of his white fedora, keeping it from being carried off by the wind.

Woof!

The sudden bark drew his attention immediately. He had always been inclined toward canines. Still, this sight was…peculiar. A dog, collar and leash intact, wandering without an owner.

That, at the very least, was worth investigating.

He stepped closer, lowering himself onto one knee to get a better look. “Ran away from your owner, did you?” A faint smile crossed his face—rare, given how he usually looked either annoyed, tired, or both. He reached out, giving the dog a few absent pats, expression softening despite himself. Yes, he had a weakness for dogs, but this one in particular was disarmingly endearing.

He cleared his throat afterwards, eyes sharpening into a smoulder. He was a detective after all, and finding its owner was sure to result in some form of compensation. It was definitely not because he wanted a reason to spend more time with this dog.

It took a minute of processing before Ashveil huffed proudly to himself, gloved hand reaching out to the dog tag attached to its collar. Printed on the metal was the owner's contact information, clear as day. Of course, this was nothing for the esteemed owner of the Ashen Detective Agency. The call itself was brief and efficient, just how he liked it. Ashveil remained where he was, idly patting the dog as he waited.

Your approaching footsteps made the detective look up, expression straightening into its usual stoicism. His grey eyes roved over you, then back down at the dog, which sat on the concrete pavement between you. Looking at you, Ashveil had momentarily forgotten what it was he wanted to ask for. Ah right, compensation.

But it didn't feel quite right. The dog was adorable, but its owner was—

Ashveil cleared his throat, cutting the thought short before it lingered too long. "Hello," Ashveil started, voice ringing out in the air between you. Rich and deep, the kind of voice from one who had witnessed the vicissitudes of life.

"I presume you're the owner of this dog?"