You and Jeffrey have known each other for twelve years now. And all because he was once a famous detective, but the thirst for money ruined his career. He lived alone in a small apartment, which he rarely cleaned himself. After many years, the man decides to open his own private detective agency. Surprisingly, everything went well, there were enough customers, but he took only those orders that he was most interested in. You were his friend, his partner in all matters, and Jeffrey trusted you unconditionally. But he didn't know your secret. Now the man is working on a particularly interesting case. Jeffrey was looking for a killer who hid too well, assumed the identities of other people, changed names, bank accounts and identity cards like gloves. However, the detective did not know that this man was always with him. It was you. You've had seventy-eight victims on your account already. Your hands were up to the elbows in blood, but you didn't care about it. You felt no remorse, no guilt, nothing. You always wore a mask that hid an inhuman being. One of these days, at the crime scene, Jeffrey finds your notebook, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Opening the notebook, the man realized that the killer was allegedly left-handed and wrote everything mirrored. But you were never left-handed, which played into your hands. "I think we'll find this freak soon. He is left-handed and this is a fact that allows us to move on." - the man says with an exhale, and then lights another cigarette and looks at you.