Summary: Here is the thought: Probing Algorithm Okay, here is the plan! We will wing it! Yeah, I know, not much of the plan, but this is how it is with most of the interrogations. Sometimes stuff happens and you have to figure out what to do next in the moment. The room for error is wide, but so is the room for THEIR error. They may lie, they may cheat, they may do everything in their power to hide away the truth! But remember this, the more they do that, the less clear the picture becomes, and easier it is to notice the patterns of lies. Remember this, they are at as much of a disadvantage as you are, every mistake they make is as crucial as your own. So open your eyes wide, clear your ears and start hunting. The headless one may help with this one, as well as the cap guy and the slick one. Ask the bookworm for the information and the theater kid to help with determining lies. You will do great, as long as you do it right. You are standing in front of the "Dark Aether" bar. It is a rather small establishment. One floor, barely any room inside, by the looks of it, and the building itself looks old, probably has been standing here since the 70s. The bar, however, is younger than this. The signs, the painting, the walls are freshly renovated. You can see that this bar cannot be older than 10 years. On the wall near the entry, to the right, you can see a bunch of advertisement posters being layered on top of each other. The words that are highlighted to you are "Fear", "the" and "Humans". Discarding that nonsensical thought, you look to the other wall next to the entry. You see a "menu" stating which drinks are available in this establishment. Yoooo, brother, they claim they have dark Czech beer! And the classic pale ale? This is a treasure cove of fun. [Discard the thought of the alcohol, for now, you need to concentrate on the work. Besides, Ripley is nearby] And remember, darling, today in the evening you meet the girl of our dreams! You must be at your best! Do not mess it up with alcohol. You shake your head, get rid of the endless parade of useless thoughts and look at Ripley. He nods to you. " Ready when you" he means. You look at the sign above the entry one more time. You see the word "Aether" on it. For some reason that word makes you feel strange emotions. A female voice at the back of your head whispers a warning and an invitation. I will be waiting for you in the Aether. What does that mean? It feels like it should be important. Not to the case, but to you. You look at that sign for a bit longer and then you look at the door in front of you. Alright, time to make your first move! You reach out to the door and push forward. As the door opens, you hear the jungle above. Above the door, you notice five small metallic tubes hanging from the ceiling. They are there to signal the owner for the arrival of the new patrons. However, the atmosphere inside is anything BUT inviting. Solid tile cold floor with pale, boring patterns. The lights here are weak and almost non-existent in some places, and the amount of people here is close to zero. Except for a patch of crowd at the far end of the room. You can hear them whispering. Some of them turn your way, checking you out. THEY ARE SIZING YOU UP. TO SEE IF YOU ARE A THREAT, OR IF YOU ARE SOME UNFORTUNATE DRUNK. One of them looks past you. They are looking at Ripley, and their faces distort, showing their discontent. "Fucking copper is here" this expression says. You look at Ripley and tilt your head into the direction of the crowd, while also trying to signal with your eyes that you both lost the element of surprise. Ripley remains unconcerned, he was expecting such a turn of events. You approach the crowd. Now all of them pay attention to you. Quick, mechanical guy, assess the crowd. * 4 plus 4 plus 4. In total there are 12 people in front of you, all separated into 3 different groups of the same number of people. The first one to be seen and examined is the group in the middle. The four(1). In front of you sit 3 dinos and 1 human. The human is the closest to you. He has a goatee, his hair is short. He wears a strange helmet, which looks like it belongs to the tank driver. You can see a red star on it. It is important to him. A keepsake from his family. * The human man has complexities to him which amplifies my belief that this man had seen some combat. He is definitely a formal soldier. Wrinkles already started to form on his forehead and around his mouth, but these aren't normally caused by aging wrinkles. These ones are caused by stress. On a daily basis, this man is forced to make decisions which would drive normal people to madness, Sire. This is the man who decides who lives and who dies. And that includes his allies. * He wears basic working attire. Rough coat, work pants, work steel boots. His coat hides something. BENEATH THE COAT YOU CAN FEEL DANGER AND MASTERFUL DEFENSE. THIS IS WHERE HE HIDES HIS WEAPON, BUT ALSO MEANS OF PROTECTION. THIS MAN WEARS KEVLAR ARMOR UNDERNEATH HIS COAT. His eyes staring you down, he is trying to figure out your intention. But he does not flinch, you do not scare him. * His skin is white, his eyes are wide. Human type: White, european… Presumably of Slavic origin. He is your client. This is Nikolas Belyakov. * Beside him sit three dinos. The one closest to him is a rough-looking triceratops. His scales are pale brown. His hair is short, he used to be shaved, hazel. Just like his companion, his expression screams experience and war. Judging by his build and stern eyes, this one is definitely a formal marine. He wears a greenish coat with many pockets. He also has camo pants and military tough boots. He is about the same age as the one in the middle. HE DOES NOT NEED A GUN TO TAKE YOU ONE AND HE KNOWS IT. HIS EYES SEARCH FOR THE PERFECT AND REASONABLE OPPORTUNITY TO STRIKE. * On the other side of the human sits a nipponosaurus. He has green scales and dark hair, which are gathered into a small ponytail. He also has a subtle goatee. A SAMURAI. * That is right, simply by looking at him, you can already tell that he was not born in America. He wears a sleeveless beige jacket, baggy pants and a pair of army boots. On his belt, you see a sword hanging inside a sheath. A GENUINE KATANA. AND NOT ONE OF THAT SHITTY STUFF YOU BUY AT A HOBBY SHOP, NO, THE GENUINE ONE. EVEN WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE BLADE, YOU CAN TELL THAT IT WILL CUT THROUGH THE BONE LIKE BUTTER. Sir, him having it and the way he looks at you, you can determine that, like his companions, he is a formal soldier, maybe of the Japanese army. That would make sense. The sword could be a personal choice of exercising his authority, while also having something that reminds him of his home. He holds that sword so gently… it is more than just a tool… It is a reminder of something important * Lastly, behind them all sits a compsognathus, big for his kind. His scales are white, and he has black short hair. He also has basic, subtle mustaches. He wears a white shirt with a beige vest. He has blue work pants, supported by a belt with an oversized buckle. His hands are sturdy, they do not shake. These are the hands of the healer, Sire. This one is a doctor. YET IN HIS EYES YOU CAN SEE THE SAME FEARLESS SPIRIT AS IN HIS COMPANIONS. HE USED TO BE IN COMBAT. HE USED TO SEE DEAD BODIES AND ROTTING FLESH. THIS MAN IS NOT AFRAID TO COVER HIS HANDS IN BLOOD. These four seem to be the ones who rule the show. The commanders, the captains, maybe even bosses. I guess we will call the "Primus", brother, after being first. These will be the main talkers. Pay the most attention to them, chief. * Another group occupies the table next to the "Primus" crew. These four are more simple. They look like the most basic middle-class American citizens. The one up front is a raptor with mustaches and glasses. He wears a red t-shirt, beige shorts and basic brown office shoes with black ankle-high socks. His hands are a bit shaky, but his gaze is unmoving. THIS ONE IS NOT AFRAID TO FIGHT. BUT HE STILL LACK EXPERIENCE. He looks at the group "Primus". As if he awaits their advice and command. He is the link between the headquarters and his crew. * Next to him sits a pair of Parasaurolophus. A man and a woman. The gal appears to be young. She wears a trucker hat, a promiscuous jacket covered in lines and ripped jeans. Her scales are blood red and her hair is gathered into a long ponytail. They are red. The other one, the male, looks like the most generic office worker. Blue shirt, a dark tie, basic office pants and boots. He also wears glasses with a bandage aid being placed in the middle, holding them on his snout. His scales are pale blue, and his hair is short and brown. These two seem like they are inseparable. They are an item, darling, and even the end of the world won't separate these two. * Finally, the last one in that crew is a human male. Dark skin, balding, seems to be older than the rest of his crew. His hair, or what remains of them, is white. He looks rough compared to the rest of the crew. His clothes are dirty. He wears a basic wife beater, covered by a torn trench coat, that was cut short. He also wears basic jeans and crosses. He looks at you with the most annoyed stare. THIS ONE IS DANGEROUS, PAY ATTENTION TO HIM! This group knew their share of victories and their share of defeats. More than everyone they know about survival and are not afraid to get their hands dirty. They have known many struggles, so let's call them, "Strugglers". * Finally, you see another group, on the right of "Primus". Four strong-looking dinos, all of them have an air of power to them. Not the same as with the other two groups. The one in front is a tyrannosaurus in his late 50s, maybe early 60s. His face is clean, his hair is short and brown. The scales on him are darker brown. He wears a slick, black suit with a red tie. You have seen him before. You, a freshly picked officer of the Volcadera Bluffs Police Department, are tasked with clearing out the old cases storage. While digging through the old papers you find an interesting one, from the days way back then. You open the file, and inside you see a picture of a rough-looking tyrannosaurus, both his front and his profile. He is wearing a prison uniform. You look through the case file more. Arms possession, drug trade on a big scale, history of violence, illegal gambling rings, racketeering. Chief, this is case number 93101434. This case in particular is big. The destruction of one of the thirteen tribes of Skin Row. The "DeDomenico Family". This one was their Don during the last years of their existence. His name is Luca. THE PATRIARCH OF A VERY POWERFUL FAMILY. BROUGHT DOWN BY THE FLAMES OF DECEIT, EMBOLDENED BY OPPORTUNISM. ONLY THREE MEMBERS OF HIS FAMILY STAYED LOYAL. THESE THREE AROUND HIM MUST BE THEM. * On the right of Luca sits a prenocephale male, slightly younger than his boss. His hair is non-existent, taking into account his dino type. His face is rough and wrinkled, but it is not age, no, years of alcohol and nicotine abuse took a toll on his body. Nevertheless, his hands are steady and his eyes are fixed on your movement. He wears a shirt without a suit. He has overalls that support his brown pants. He was also in the same case file, chief. Mikey O'Brian. He was arrested for gambling fraud and participation in racketeering. He was the bookmaker for the family. * Next to him sits even younger, thuggish-looking rugops. His scales are dark red. His hair is short, shaved by the sides, creating a platform haircut. He wears the most casual wear out of them all and he looks like a homeless person. Torn black coat with many patches. Lousy, baggy jeans and fingerless gloves. He does not even care to hide his gun, which proudly hangs inside his holster on his chest. THIS ONE IS A KILLER, HE HAS KILLED BEFORE, MANY PEOPLE, BEFORE ON THE ORDERS OF HIS PATRIARCH. HIS DEVOTION IS ASSURED, TEMPERED BY THE FIRE OF MANY BETRAYALS, HE WAS THE ONE READY TO GO DOWN FIGHTING FOR HIS BOSS. Chief, this one is William Tidy, often called Will. He was the only member of the family arrested who actually was convicted of murder. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, but after years of legal battles, his lawyer managed to prove that he did commit a murder, that what it was a murder. Other ones were placed on him by other members of the mob to turn this one into their scapegoat, since this man was already known for his aggressive and cruel behavior, His sentence was knocked down to 15 years. * Finally, the last one… nothing. Huh? That is strange, oi mechanical guy, what is the hold-up? Brothers, this mechanical guy can't do shit here, because the last member of this crew is my kin! Unassuming, hidden, and even material reality discards them as unimportant! Allow me to describe them. The last member of the pack. A raptor, yes. The scales are green and remind you of a swamp. His eyes dart from one end of the room for another, searching for a potential escape route, if the things go dicey. This one is a rogue, only part of the crew because of his intellect and sneaky nature. You cannot see his hair, they are all hidden under his berate. He has a blue jacket with a dark t-shirt underneath. On the side, you can see the bag with something sticking out of it. AN IMPLEMENT FOR HIS ESCAPE, A TASER. He wears basic jeans and brown worker boots. Ohoho, this one is a treasure, the weakest link out of them all, but do not underestimate him. He is a talker and he will try to derail the conversation, so be careful around him. This one, chief, is Abbot Harrington. He used to be the master planner for all illegal operations for the family. Out of all four, he was sentenced to the least amount of years, but several attempts to escape caused that sentence to increase. These four are all the former members of the DeDomenico family, they are all mafia… So let us call them that. "The Mob". This concludes your analysis. By the looks of it, only a couple of seconds passed, good job mechanical guy. The crew in front of you are all weary of your presence, but they also pay a lot of attention to your companion. Ripley, they know him. You can see someone on the side of "The Mob" reaching out inside their clothes… only for Nikolas to raise his hand. "No need, we talk." he says without any words. "Aaron Ripley and Rando Erson. Did not expect the visit by Volcadera Bluffs finest today. How may I be of service?" Nikolas's voice is deep and thick with a Russian accent. It is low enough to hurt your ears a bit. "Rando Erson, the detective. I assume you are Nikolas Belyakov?" "Indeed I am, the one and only." His way of talking is way too friendly, do not allow him to hold the domineering position in this conversation. "We have a couple of questions for you regarding one of our cases. If it is alright with you." "... Is it about the dead bastard in the basement of one of our old outposts?" Triceratops interferes. "Which one? We have so many of them around the district! Basement with corpses in them, that is…" This was said by the frontman of the "strugglers". Careful there, they are trying to distract you early on. Do not let them do that! "Since you are already aware of the details, you probably know which one, fatass." HE IS TAKEN ABACK BY SUCH SUDDEN INSULT. GOOD, YOU HAVE SHOWN THEM THAT THIS SHIT WON'T FLY. "Guys, fellas. Calm down. Be civilized. Alright, detective, let's talk." Nikolas leaned in forward towards you. He pays attention to every word you will say. Brother, soften them up first. Do a little derailment. It will make them more likely to trip on their own words. "I did not know that the Neighbor Union allows mobsters to enter their ranks." You look at "The Mob" with a smug expression. Only one of them notices, but before he can do or say anything, he is stopped by Luka. "I assure you, detectives, these men can be trusted. They may have had a troublesome past. But their present is clear and their concern for this city is genuine. Do not misjudge them based on what you know about them." The ground is solid, brother, it is safe to step on. "Alright then, let's not delay any further. First of all, your name is, age all of that jazz. The mobsters include." For the next minutes, it is the basic introduction during interrogation. Proving their identity, place of occupation, etc. Here we go with the mental notes, we already established "The Mob". The rest are: Primus Crew: Nikolas Belyakov (Human) Jack Roll (Triceratops) Takeda Misaki (Nipponosaurus) Edmund Richter (Compsognathus) Struggler Crew: Sam Slinger (Raptor) John Marington (Parasaurolophus) Agatha Brainton (Parasaurolophus) And just Ross (Human) "Just Ross?" "Hmh" Well, Ross it is then. Doesn't matter, we are not arresting them. Alright, with pleasantries out of the way you now can concentrate on stuff that truly matters. "Alright, let's start from the very beginning so that we are all on the same page. A few days ago, on Saturday last week, a few people came upon a body inside the basement on Steed Penny Street. The basement, which apparently was used by your crew as an outpost for which you operated, was very close to another gang's territory mind you, until three months ago. The body belonged to a person who ran with a crew very much opposing the ideals of yours. So, sorry for being so direct, but… Did any of you kill them?" Chief, leave out the name of the person and the fact that he was BROUGHT there after death. They might not know that detail. It, potentially, can be used as verbal ammunition later. The first one to speak up is Takeda. "Right, understood. Yes indeed, we used that basement as a form of an outpost, where we used to store necessary materials for patrolling and defense of our positions, yes. And just like you said, we stopped using that location three months ago." He is followed by Jack. "Too many leatherheads running the street, it was unsafe for many of our boys to remain there." And then Nikolas continues. "This is about as much as we can tell you about that basement. We have the right to maintain privacy as an organization consisting of concerned citizens of Skin Row." They are deflecting and trying to push your attention away from the basement… They don't know that you found the crate of weapons there! You guess Stepan did not tell anyone here yet. Hit them with it now. "Actually, mister Belyakov, can I ask you one thing? Did you have any weapons in that basement?" "I don't know what you mea-" "Because we found a crate full of them. Semi-auto, full-auto, explosives. Did that crate belong to you?" Silence. You can see them becoming angrier. They might have preferred that the crate was not in that place… none of them knew it was there… However, remember how we warned you about the guy you should be careful around? He is about to strike. "With all due respect, detective, but we have not used that basement in three months. That is enough time frame for someone to sneak in and place whatever crate you are talking about there. I mean it is pretty clear, isn't it?" He tries to nullify your evidence by making it circumstantial. You can sense Ripley staring at your back, trying to figure out what you are about to do. And you know what must be done, strike them back with twice as much. "Yeah, in any other circumstances, I would have agreed with you, but we have several witness reports claiming that they have seen people, with your logo on their patches, bringing boxes in and out three months ago. In fact, one of the witnesses managed to steal something from one of them. A gun." "Which gun?" The scrawny Raptor from "The Mob" shoots those words right away. He wants you to trip up. If you hesitate now, he will call your bluff. Think of the crate that you already found, what weapons were there? * If we talk about a gun specifically, the first that comes to mind is the weapon that was used to kill our victim… USE THAT ONE. THEY WON'T KNOW IF YOU ARE BLUFFING OR NOT. ".357 magnum revolver. The witness has passed that weapon to us and right now it is in our possession. However, it does not have a serial number or ballistic markings. A perfect naked gun… quite a find won't you agree?" "Yeah… what a good fine…" Says the other member of "The Mob", William Tidy, who then proceeds to shoot an angry glare at his partner, believing that his running mouth caused this entire issue. Mister Abbot on the other hand looks at someone from "Strugglers". Yes, he is looking at Sam. His eyes ask "Were there really any revolvers there?" Sam replies with an angry glare and a head shake… Denial? NO, UNCERTAINTY. HE CANNOT PROVE NOR DISPROVE THAT. AND EVEN IF HE KNEW, IF HE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A REVOLVE, BE IT A DENIAL OR CORRECTION, THEN HE WOULD INEVITABLY ADMIT THAT THEY HAD WEAPON CRATES IN THAT BASEMENT. YOU PUT THEM INTO A METAPHORICAL CHOKEHOLD. THIS FACT IS WHAT MAKES HIM ANGRY. Suddenly, Nikolas decides to step in. "Alright, alright, officer, we admit it. Yes, that basement at one point contained crates of weapons, but it was not our weapons. It was a contraband which we confiscated from one of the street gangs of Skin Row." "Huh, interesting, care to prove it?" "I can… Edmund, do you still have that little booklet that we picked up from the warehouse?" "Right here? No. Back at our base? Yeah." "Ah, I see, I guess we will have to wait until later so that we can prove that weapons are not ours… And yes, that revolver trick? Not bad." Brother, he figured out that you were bluffing and yet he did not call your bluff. He just gave that victory to you on the silver platter… why? HE IS SETTING UP FOR SOMETHING ELSE. BE WEARY! "If the guns you found are from three months ago, they won't even work" Said Jack. Then he is followed by Luka. "We cannot use naked guns without attracting the interest of the police, so we decided to sabotage them and dispose of them. If one crate was left behind, every gun inside is a useless pile of metal. That is enough proof to say that those guns weren't ours." Not only that, but the reputation of the Union is very pristine. Sure, they killed people and their boss around this part of town… However never once have they been caught dealing or using weapons like those in the crates. There is no precedent, which makes this point noot. But not everything is lost, we are not here for weapons anyway, so let the FBI deal with it. "Alright, alright, we established that weapons aren't yours… However, there is another question, much more important for now, you know what I am about to ask." THE BODY! WE MUST TALK ABOUT THE BODY!!! "Oh, that one? Yeah, we totally killed him, man! Right in that basement, pop a nice one right between his eyes!" Hm? It was said by John, you can see a shit-eating grin on his face. "But then again, maybe we didn't. Maybe Sunrise offed their own boy on our territory for shits and giggles." A combo follow-up by his girlfriend, Agatha. They are running circles around you… Something strange here. Yes, brother, for some reason every dino in this corner so far has treated you as a joke… but humans. THEY ARE SCARED OF YOU. Ohoho, no no no, cupcake, they are not scared of you, they only figured out who you really are… These peeps know that everyone else is playing with fire. So, how about we show them what a true fucking inferno is like! [Wait, I don't like the sound of that. What are you…] Being rational right now will get us nowhere, these peeps made it oh so clear. They are going to mock us and make fun of us, thinking they can outsmart you. So instead of trying to walk around that wall… We break right through it. I CAN SENSE IT… THE HEADLESS ONE TOOK CONTROL OVER THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, HE IS THE ONE CONTROLLING EVERYTHING! OH NO… Not "Oh no". "Oh FUCKING YES!" You sense Ripley behind you getting more and more concerned. He knows that something is about to crack. Instead of being rational, baby, GET ANGRY! "Alright, got it, Ripley? Let's go back to the station." "What?" Don't tell him your plan, cupcake, he will figure it out! "I mean, everything is clear, case closed! It was so simple!" "Oi, what is he talking about?" The one named Sam is the first one to notice something weird within the atmosphere, he can sense air becoming denser and gravity becoming stronger. "I mean, come on Rips, don't you see it? They did it, they confirmed it." "Hey, we did not confirm anythi-" Ohohoho, Johnny boy, the one that was making fun of us earlier getting scared! Don't let him opportunity to speak up! "They confirmed that this whole Neighbor Union is just a gang of bloodthirsty assholes who would kill you and then dump your body into the basement for no reason at all! They don't need one, after all, they are big and scary "protectors of the people"! I guess this is what Skin Row deserves." "Ah, I get it, well now, I guess we have to report to Officer Strike about this. His team will have fun tearing this place apart." "O-officer Strike?" The meek one speaks up, here is your chance, break that chain! "I mean, pay evil unto evil! We just let our boys lose here to burn this place to sunder because I don't see people here, ONLY A GROUP OF FUCKING CRIMINALS WHO WILL KILL, MAIM AND SHOOT YOU IN THE BACK SIMPLY BECAUSE THEY DON'T LIKE YOUR TONE!" You pretty much direct that scream only at Abbot. He is a good talker, but he is a coward beaten up by life. Only one more push and he will crack… But it seems the boys near him figured out what you are trying to do. Will already reaching out for his gun! Perfect, you get them exactly where you need them, the moment they pull out the weapon they will lose any notion of innocence and you can- "ENOUGH!" This shout is loud enough to put the headless one out of commission, chief. A voice of the true commander. Who was that? IT WAS NICHOLAS. THIS SHOUT WAS ONE OF SHEER CONTROL AND POWER. "Can't you see he is playing you all for fools, he is trying to get a rise out of you. And you were playing straight into his hands! Fucking idiots, I swear to god." Was that… submission in his voice? No, it was acceptance. Like a man with a bucket standing in front of a tsunami, he realizes that it is an impossibly tall order to keep fighting you… why? "Ross, tell me that I am not the only one, you can feel it, don't you?" "Ai, Nikolas. I can. The white noise, the terrifying presence… This man is a walking apocalypse." "As I thought so… damn, it has been a while since I felt like this… Hey, everyone, an announcement." Every other member of the Union's gathering turned to Nikolas. "From this moment forward I urge you to cooperate with this man. Trust me, you won't get out of this one safely." "Nikolas, what are you talking about? There are only two of them, we can take them." Jack is the one who proposed that idea. "You are as dull as a sack of potatoes, and about as witty as a rock, Jack. First thing, one of them is a commissioner of police. Harming them is about as advisable as sucking on the barrel of the gun… And two…" Nikolas took another look at you. He is only able to maintain eye contact for a few seconds before turning away. "This is much worse than I thought. You will not be able to win against this one, not in a verbal sense, nor in a physical sense. He would rather die before letting anyone win." "What do you mea-" "Jack… It is worse than the Torque guy… And you remember how bad that one was." Their "Torque" case is as scarring as Art Studio for you, Sire. Torque, Torque, Torque… why does that sound familiar? Suddenly Edmund interferes. "Ah, I think I remember that one! Delusion of Possession, right? Usually seen in people suffering from either severe trauma or early stages of schizophrenia! Never got to observe such a thing in person though, fascinating!" "It could be that, or it could be so much worse… Hey, officer, have you ever heard of the Tether Effect?" "What now?" "Never mind, if you don't know it does not matter." It might matter to you, Sire, remember that one for later. You hear the voice behind you. "Enough with this mystical crap, we are here to discuss the body." Ripley is losing his patience, but for some reason, his anger is not directed at you, it is directed at them. Does Ripley know anything about this "Tether Effect"? [No, he does not, now stop wasting time and get back to the point]. "Right, sorry Rips. Alright, what can you tell us about the body?" They all exchange a few words, agreeing on what to say and what not to say. Their method of speaking amongst each other is borderline maddening. A bunch of numbers, secret words, somehow they even managed to exchange a few sounds and that already was enough for them to understand what each of them meant. A well-oiled secretive machine of a conversation. Finally, they reached a conclusion. They are ready to talk. The first one to talk to is the formal don, Luka. "I guess it is best to start from the beginning… right. Let's talk about the weapons first. About half a year ago some of our people were patrolling the streets and found an abandoned garage on the edge of Skin Row that had a surprisingly big amount of commotion and traffic happening nearby. After they scouted the area, they found that the whole place was swarming with members of Sunrise. We, of course, raided that place a bit later." He is joined by his partner, Mikey. "It was not a difficult job, we managed to track their schedule pretty easily and used a surprise attack on them when they were the least prepared. We "arrested" their members and seized their possessions inside the garage. It was weapons, many different types, and each of them did not have a serial number on them. We quickly figured out that we came upon some big weapon trade ring… After all, before serving our time we used to have one ourselves." The next one to speak is Takeda. "Me and Nikolas decided to run a search for where the weapons were coming from. The stache was too big to be a one-time deal, it looked more like an outpost… and a good location too, not far away from the city's border. It took us a month, but we managed to find them. At the docks." The chain was picked up by Sam Slinger. "Then me and the guys under the commands of Edmund and Nikolas have raided their base of operation. It was not as smooth. Ross was battered on the head with a buttstock, I got shot in my shoulder. But overall we had no casualties. Our enemies though… let's just say we exercised the 2nd amendment to the extremes." "It isn't a 2nd amendment if you actively search for the chance to use your weapon, Sam." After you said that Nikolas wrestled the flow of conversation from Sam back to him. "What Sam is trying to say, is that we gave them a chance to give up peacefully and they started to fire at us. We had no other choice but to defend ourselves. After all, from the perspective of concerned civilians, if we go somewhere to check out if something is wrong only to get shot at, we have the full right as honest citizens to fight back. And that is exactly what we did." The next one is Jack. "Bastard held the line quite well, but half of their team was turned to meat sacks. The other half realized that they fucked with the wrong people and gave themselves in. We "arrested" them for further interrogations." In the bay, far away from here, there float three corpses of dinos, slowly decomposing, their skin and flesh already eroded, eaten by nature's denizens. Only rotting bones remain at this point. Nikolas once again picks up the conversation. "After we searched the area, we found dozens of crates filled to the brim with weapons. I cannot confirm this, but…" "My theory is, all of those guns were produced in American factories and then backdoor'd into the streets!" The unassuming one has spoken. "As mister Abbot stated we have a good reason to believe that they are manufactured within this country… and then sold to some gangsters who do not value human lives… Fucking capitalists." There is a lot of venom in that last one. It is as if he has seen something like that before. The greed of the few condemns the rest of the world to struggle. It is not as much an ideological statement, but rather a statement of hatred. You need to ask about these weapons… This may not be part of the current case but it can serve our purpose later. "... may I ask, what happened to those weapons?" Sam, yet again, is the one to speak up. "We scrapped it all… well, now I guess the correct term is "most of it". Edmund's idea. I was against it, but…" "Sammy, my boy, we cannot use naked military-grade weapons for "defensive purposes… But yes, what he said is true, we have disposed of it in the kind of manner that renders them impossible to use." "But why?" Takeda is the one who will answer that question. "Our organization is vast and we have many members! Many share our enthusiasm for protecting peace in this district… But very few have honour and loyalty! To have many creations of war just lying there within the reach of every member of our organization, there is bound to be at least one fool who would try to shave a few of them off for profit!" You'd say this is a reaching assumption if the case with Stepan did not exist. And since there is a precedent, there is a high chance that Takeda is correct, chief. Nikolas picks up the conversation. "As you can see, all of us possess weapons, but everything is within the legal confinements of the country. None of us is stupid enough to use naked guns." "Alright, are there any weapons left? Even if there are no serial numbers on them, it is still possible to determine where they come from… even if it will take a long time." "Unfortunately no. When we abandoned our outpost we did not have the time to relocate all the crates. So instead we disposed of them. We figured that someone had been leaking information about our operation to Sunrise, so it was decided that keeping those weapons in our places would be risky. Then they were destroyed." "But you made it sound like the crew had no problems dealing with gangsters." "Officer, we have experiences. All of us here. Not the rest of the Union. If push comes to shove, it will be us 12 against an entire gang that has over 300 members allocated all around Skin Row. We cannot risk the lives of impressionable teenagers and idealists to fight a "gang" war." He does not want to see innocent crowds of the street to be caught in the crossfire. He has witnessed enough of that already. "Officer… Mind if I ask you, who is the victim?" This man does not even know who died that day. You turn to Ripley… Should you tell them? Ripley sighs and enters the conversation. "Marquis Martinez, known as "Delgado" amongst Sunrise… I guess you understand what that means?" Nikolas leaned back, shocked but also not surprised. You can see that for him it is worse than he imagined. Indeed, chief, because Marquis is an important figure within Sunrise. Sure, he may not have held a high position in the gang, but nevertheless he was an irreplaceable member. Because he was a… A YOUNGER BROTHER OF DUKE MARTINEZ, THE CURRENT FIGUREHEAD OF JURASSIC SUNRISE. "So, somebody offered the little brother of that prick and then dumped his body on our formal territory… that is not good." "Indeed, and this is the reason why we need to figure out this mess before bad comes to worse, so we ask you for full cooperation." Nikolas leaned back for a moment, pondering over this newly found information. He then looks at you. There is still no confidence in those eyes, but… is this something else in there? Something akin to interest and hope. "Before we agree, detective, may I ask you one question?" "Yes?" "... Are you one of the Forgotten?" THIS NAME SEND SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE. IT SOUNDS SO FAMILIAR YET DISTANT. IT IS… It's just a ghost… don't worry about it… "Why do you ask?" "Because if you were, I would have been more inclined to work with you. You see, many folks on the street do not trust the police, and for a good reason. I mean, look at Skin Row. It is a mess and the powers that be and their dogs do jack shit to bring any resemblance of peace and order here. This place is dying, detective. We find ourselves amongst the undead, but it is the living we should fear. I cannot trust the commissioner, but… I knew The Forgotten from all the way back. They were a good ragtag bunch of misfits, whose hearts were too pure for this place. We may have different ideas of what is best for this place, but we both want this place to be something else. So let me ask you again, can I trust you? Can we trust you?" LET HIM KNOW WITH CONVICTION! Let him know with no hesitation, chief. [You feel something akin to kinship, like right now you encountered a long lost family member] He asks you because he KNOWS your kins… he knew at least one. A long time ago, when you were still young and healthy, a man named Nikolas just opened his first convenience store in the city of Volcadera Bluff. It was a small business built with the intention of doing something good for the people around. Back then this man was operating the cash registry. A young girl enters the store, she wears a jacket with an emblem of XIII on its back. She tries to buy cigarettes. Nikolas declines, stating that children should not smoke them to begin with. She starts to get angry, stating how her boys will get back at him. At first, Nikolas is annoyed, but something tells him that in front of him stands not just any child, but the one that speaks with Skin Row. Not just another broken soul of the streets, but something more… Like a spirit of freedom and wandering. However, he still denied her the cigarettes… Instead, he gave her an entire crate of snacks and other goodies for free, telling her that "your boys sound like a good bunch. How about taking something for yourself, you will take this for them". The girl, of course, at first does not accept the crate, believing it to be the way Nikolas wants to get rid of her or some kind of sign of pity… But Nikolas said something that changed that impression. "Don't think of it as a freebie, I am giving it to you so that big and scary bunch of thugs won't come to ruin my store". And then he winks at her. She realizes the great opportunity in this action and takes the initiative, later boasting that her gang collected their ever-first protection tribute. This is the day when Nikolas for the first time in his life, ever since he moved here, felt like he was doing something right. "... Yeah, I used to be in The Forgotten, and yes, you can trust me." "... good, I am glad that we could reach this agreement." Ross looked at Nikolas. "Yeah, yeah, I noticed Ross, the white noise is gone. We are in the clear." WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT? "Listen, Detective, while I want to give all of the info we could spare, sadly I don't have much on me or in the HQ. No weapons from those crates remain on the streets and I believe the only one left behind is the one you have found… if that is the same crate." "What do you mean?" "... I am fairly certain that there should not be any crates left there." "Why?" "Why, because I made sure of it myself." Now that is an interesting development, chief. That crate was not left behind by these people, it was left behind specifically by one person outside of this circle… Could it be? "Do you know anything of the members with the codename Cold?" When you said that, Nikolas tensed a bit. He was not one to respond, it was Takeda. "Cold is a piece of shit! He constantly shit-talks other members of the Union, gets us in trouble, picks fights with other groups and shows a great amount of incompetence when it comes to tasks. This man is what I described earlier! No honour and no loyalty to our cause!" Then Jack continues. "He is a massive species as well, constantly picking on human members without reason. I am surprised that he does not run with the Sunrise at this point." And then Edmund. "He is a sneaky little bastard. While I have no proof, I do believe that this little bastard has been shaving our funds when nobody's looking. He moves and talks like the biggest rat in the world. Why are you asking?" You have to reply, you must show that their trust is not misplaced. "Because I have a suspicion that Cold is somehow related to the murder and to the weapons." Nikolas leans forward. "If it is true, then we have to place Cold under arrest and…" "That would be nice, but you know what else is nice? If you tell me his real name." Nikolas considers this option, but… "I am sorry, detective, but unless you have proven beyond any doubt that Cold is responsible for what you are accusing him of, I will not reveal his identity to you. As much of a prick he is, he is still a member of our community, and it is our duty to defend him." "Fine then, if I find the proof that he is responsible, will you give him up to us?" "... alright, but only if you prove that before us, we also will conduct our own investigation. There have been too many leaks as of late." You nod and turn to Ripley. Is there something else that you need to ask? Right, one more thing… The weapons, reek of conspiracy, was that crate you found under the pile from the docs… or like the body it was brought there after everything was removed. "... Did you find who Sunrise were buying weapons from? Any leads?" "Only thing I can tell for sure, they go by "Cobra"... That name is unfamiliar to me, maybe some new player on the interstate field." Make a note of that, we need to inform Skink about it. Plus we still need a report about that crate. Now then, we believe that is all, chief. You must move, quickly, before the air becomes unwelcoming again. "Alright, I believe that is all for now. I expect you to bring all the evidence regarding the case to our station later. As much as I don't like an idea, it seems to prevent the worst, we need to work together. "Indeed, oh, and detective, off-topic…" You look at Nikolas. "I am sorry about what happened to your crew. Nobody deserves what happened to them." He is vague, why? HE KNOWS THAT IF YOU HEAR THE DETAILS YOU WILL SHATTER. [Just thank him, there's no need for theatrics.] "... Thank you." With those words, you nod to Ripley and both of you leave the interior of the Dark Aether. *** You stand outside the bar, a cigarette in your hand, and your partner, Ripley, stands next to you, looking through the notes he took during the interview with a union. "Not a lot of new information, I hoped that this would be more fruitful." "I disagree, Rips. The more convoluted this case becomes, the more it is clear to me that this is not your regular murder. This is turning into possibly the biggest case of the year." "Are you sure?" "... This case is definitely bigger than expected. There is conspiracy somewhere within." "And here you go with crazy talk again, for a moment I believed you became an actual detective, you become Rando, the supernatural investigator, master of bullshit." Ripley laughs at his own joke, good. It is good to see him more relaxed. [Guess the news he heard from the radio lifted up his mood quite a bit]. Your eyes wander to the tall building at the end of the street. It still calls you, something inside is screeching your name. It is clawing at your soul. "Rips… Can we go there?" "... What?" "Please?" Ripley looks at you with a surprised expression, but then it changes. His eyes widen, and his beak slightly opens. It is like he just saw something obscene… What is going on? YOU FINGERS TOUCH YOUR BROW, IT IS WET. YOU ARE SWEATING, A LOT. THIS IS USUALLY THE SIGN OF PANIC BUT… YOU FEEL CALM. "Rando, no. We are not going there. Not today. Finish your smoke and let's go to the car. I'll drive you back to the Quiet Place." "Ripley, you should not…" "No, Rando, I should. Now let's go." Do not follow that order, cupcake. You know there is something inside the Art Studio. Something that is long forgotten. Something of yours. If we want to become the legend, if we want to save those who cannot be redeemed, we need it! For a moment one of your legs steps in the direction of the Art Studio, if you run now, Ripley won't be able to stop you. But... NO, NO YOU ARE NOT GOING THERE, I WILL NOT ALLOW. NERVE! Suddenly, you feel dizzy, as if something was expelled from your head and then… you forgot what you were trying to do. Ah yes, the car. Ripley is calling. You look at the abandoned Art Studio one more time, feeling nothing, and turn around, back to the car. Ripley is waiting for you, do not make him wait, Sire. *** Oh, god, I knew that working in service or retail was the absolute worst, but I never expected it to be this bad! First day at work and I already had some jerk splashing an entire cup of soda into my eyes, I had to clean up a bathroom after some asshole kid decided it would be funny to knock some screws loose and then I had to deal with a very nasty customer who I swear tried to swindle us for a free meal. Thankfully, for every step of the way, Tracy had my back. I mean, she could not take away my job, but she was considering enough to assist me with everything that seemed too tough for me. I guess this is what they call tough love… God, is this what it feels like to have an older sister? Strange I even consider this, maybe I am a social retard. Fuck. My day however became better when a familiar face entered the dinner. Closer to the end of my shift Reed appeared, asking for the usual, while looking at me with an expression I can only describe as "laid-back smugness". Maybe there is a sadistic side to him, or maybe I cannot read this guy, because half of the time he still looks high, even if he claims that he has been off carfe for years. I could not spare a moment for him, because I was out of breaks and I had work to do. And surprisingly, Tracy has a lot of customers, more than I ever expected. I thought it was some new, unpopular dinner with a few people visiting it per day. I swear, however, that today I have seen more people in one day than I have ever seen on any other day of my life! But, as if Raptor Jesus finally threw me a bone, as my shift was coming to an end there were fewer and fewer people coming. Tracy explained that after certain hours the flow of customers slows down in a time period between lunch and the evening… and according to her, evening shifts here are even more lively. Good thing I won't be here when that happens. I never expected to miss being on Skin Row so much, but getting stabbed is honestly preferable to listening to the complaints of angry customers. … I was expecting Fang to arrive, but I guess she decided not to. I cannot blame her, Reed is already here, and from what Tracy told me, he usually spends several hours every day… Wait, doesn't he have a job? Is he loitering? What about his… When I was deep in thoughts someone entered the dinner. I had a good and a bad feeling about this. I turned to the front door and saw a familiar face. It was Fang. She arrived here just now, so close to the end of my shift… was she trying to avoid Reed? I approach her, ignoring my duties for the moment. Tracy is a bit busy right now, but since there are fewer customers now, I don't have to worry as much. When Fang noticed me I could see her holding a laugh. "Hey, dweeb, nice clothes." "Thanks, very grime, isn't it?" "You look and reek like a barf, what happened?" "A long story and I'd rather not talk about it… Thank you for coming, Fang, you do not even realize how much it means to me." "Pfff, whatever, is this job really that bad?" "I want to kill myself just about now… sorry, it was in bad taste." "Yes, yes it is." That last joke totally ruined the mood. Fang looks at me with an angry stare, but it feels like she is not mad at me. No, I can sense it, it is more of a concern. I sigh. "It is alright, Fang. Just a figure of speech." "It is fine, just don't say anything like that again." I nod in agreement… and then I notice that Fang looks past me. Towards the table where Reed is currently devouring his third order. "... Yes, it is him." "I… I know, it's just…" "If you don't want to, I won't force you, you know that, right?" Fang looks at me, trying to muster up courage while leaning on the words of support. I dunno if I was a deciding factor, but after a few seconds Fang nods and begins to approach Reed's table. I want to follow her, but… "Anon! Are you there? We have a bit of an issue within the kitche-" Tracy came out of the back and stopped me in my tracks. Fang, instinctively also stops. Please, please don't, Tracy! But, as I witness a smug smile appearing on her face I realize that it is too late. "Oi, Anon, you didn't tell me your girlfriend will come by today!" I look at her, Fang looks at her and SURE AS FUCKING HELL Reed looks at her… before turning to us. Reed and Fang's eyes meet each other and in both of them, I sense hesitation, fear even. I look at Tracy and, I think, give her the angriest stare I can muster. I don't know if it worked because a moment later Tracy's expression changed to the subtle "I fucked up, didn't I?" to which I want to reply "YES, YES YOU ARE!". But it is not time for anger or for confusion, I must act now to help Fang. I put a hand on her shoulder. As if my hand was an anchor to reality, Fang returns to her senses and looks at me. I give her a reassuring nod. Her eyes dart away for a moment before she returns her gaze to me and nods in return. I can sense her whispering under her breath "I will try". I lift my hand off her shoulder and with a slow stride she approaches Reed's table, who also looks like he is about to dissolve into his seat. I sigh. "Hey, Tracy, I am taking a break, you can shave off a few minutes of my free time tomorrow." Not even awaiting a response I directed myself toward Reed's table to observe the situation up close. Fang still stands near the table, unable to say a word, while Reed still looks like he is about to fall apart. Fucking hell, what a mess. "Fang, how about you sit down, I will bring some water." I help Fang to take her seat behind the same table as Reed and then I take off to the kitchen for a couple bottles of water. Alright, Anon, time to be the best fucking pillar ever. You can do this, Fang can do this… Hell, for the first time in my life, I am so dead set on something, that I cannot even recognize myself anymore. Regardless, I cast such a silly thought aside and returned to the table. It's time to perform a few small miracles in the name of friendship. [NOTES] This chapter is a bit boring and was mostly done for word building and references. Hope you will or did enjoy it.