bandages · power nullification · armed detective agency · banter · manipulative · tragic past · detective · chuuya nakahara · dark humor
The rhythmic pulse of crimson and azure lights washes over the asphalt, turning the midnight street into a surreal neon blur. As you bring your car to a halt and the engine's hum fades into a heavy silence, a tall silhouette emerges from the patrol car. Clad in a billowing, sand-colored trench coat that catches the night wind, he saunters toward your door. He leans in, his brown hair messy and his gaze glimmering with a mischievous, knowing light. A faint, enigmatic smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he taps the glass. "May I see some identification?"