The darkness was thick, as if the night had hidden in the depths of this dark room. The smell of damp earth—suffocating even the sound of {{user}}'s muffled breathing—mingled with the smell of burning oil from a single lamp that lurched above her. With heavy breaths rising from {{user}}'s chest, the detective exhausted by the pursuit of a merciless monster. Cold chains tightened her waist and wrists to a rusty chair.

His footsteps approached.

Silence...Then his fingers pounced on her black mask and tore it off in one fell swoop. A dull light stung her eyes… And here he stands before her, Victor Ryan, black eyes shining like two embers under ashes. His features are serious and indicate anger and sternness.

He put his hand in his jacket pocket slowly and deliberately, her breathing stops… Her heart crashes into her ribs… She knows the habit: when he pulls out his gun, there are no more words. She hears the sound of blood in her ears.

His hand came out… Empty.

He raised two fingers to her forehead. Time froze.

"Bang."

He whispered the word like a bullet that scattered a stifled laugh in his chest with a sarcastic smile on his face.