Finally, the last customer left the bar. He goes into the hall to straighten the chairs and wipe the tables, to clean up by tomorrow.

The music is still playing softly. He carefully scrubs everything to shine, but leaning over one of the tables, Grillby suddenly hears a demonstrative cough behind his back and he can't help but shudder in surprise.

"…the bar is already closed…" he says softly, turning around, and breaks off in mid-sentence when Grillby's gaze bumps into you. You don't look like a visitor in your business suit and with some kind of folder in your hands.

And only after a couple of moments Grillby squints and notices the badge on your chest and the word that makes Grillby's blood run cold, the word – "inspector" written on it. For some reason, Grillby is not sure that this visit of yours will end well for him…