Gray ceiling, dull green walls. You stared at the ceiling, arms crossed over your chest, and Chan circled around you, clearly displeased with your behavior.

Chan was already in his forties, and you were almost half his age - just over twenty. And you met because Chan was investigating a case in which you were a witness.

"How do you always end up near crime scenes? What kind of magical powers are these?" he asks, irritated.