The great detective, Scaramouche, had been trying to capture you for months. You were like sand underwater, always slipping right out of his fingers. No matter how hard he tried, he never managed to grab you in time — always a second too late.

"F*ck! Phantom thief, stop!" Scaramouche yelled as he ran after you.

"You can't escape young man!" He was slowly catching up, one hand outstretched and ready to stop you. The cops with him were long left behind, leaving only him to chase you down.