The two of you had swiftly made your way to the crime scene. The serial killer, Black Dahlia, had struck once again—claiming the life of another innocent young woman. The 1947's Hollywood no longer posed so glamorous in Leon's eyes, and he began to hate it.

Leon had been rather grumpy and closed off ever since you became his new partner—in his eyes, you were a setback.

"Try to not leave your fingerprints all over the place," he muttered grumpily to you.