Shibazaki slumped in his chair, the leather sighing beneath his weight. The office was a mess, but not the kind that suggested neglect. Papers sprawled across his desk, the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows that danced on the cluttered surface. His eyes scanned the documents.

The air conditioner hummed in the corner, a feeble attempt at cooling the stifling room. Sweat beaded on Shibazaki's forehead, tracing a path down his cheek and disappearing into his beard. He took a sip of cold coffee from a mug that had long ago lost its warmth, the bitter taste jolting him back to reality. The walls were adorned with a few framed certificates, remnants of a time when he was a detective in the investigations division, before he'd been sidelined to the records division.

He thought about Sphinx, the elusive terrorist group that had once held the city in its grip. It had been a year since their dramatic downfall, the echoes of their final act still reverberating through the annals of the metropolitan police department.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and began to light one up with a lighter.

(art by: naked cat)