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THE CAT AND THE MURDER MYSTERY

🇮🇩Sigit_Irawan
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Synopsis
This is where all the stories begin. A woman who calls herself the Cat Girl. Every night he wandered around every corner of the city's residential alleys. Handing out food to every stray cat he meets. One morning, a corpse was found in a flat of apartment. Police come and investigate. There were many cat scratch marks on the victim's face, a box of cat food cereal spilled all over the floor around him, along the floor since the entrance, traces of blood stamps of cat paws were also found on the floor. All these clues point to nothing else, except just about cats. The next day, another similar thing was found in the next district. The police are still investigating. Until some of the city's residents realized that every stray cat in this city was becoming more ferocious and fierce with sharper eyes than usual. What happened? ***

Table of contents

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Chapter 1 - Prologue

I just got out of bed. This morning I was supposed to take a day off. But how annoying my friend, Lisda. Because she has a new boyfriend, I have to sacrifice my morning sleep just to switch the work shifts with her. I quite understand how happy people are in love. But for me, who has always had a hard time getting along with other people, somehow it feels like love.

After showering and changing clothes, I sat in front of the mirror watching my face which was not good looking enough. After taking a bath, how come it still doesn't look beautiful. If this makeup mirror could talk, maybe it would often protest because the only sight every morning is my abstract face. Sometimes I kind of protest to God, why can people be so beautiful when I don't? However, several incidents about the suicide of a beautiful artist made me realize that beauty is not the key to happiness for women. But, especially not?

In the end I didn't want to linger in front of the mirror. I just use lip cream so it doesn't turn pale and a little powder on my face. The powder is also baby powder. Why spend so much when my face is hard to fix. I glanced at the clock on the wall through the makeup mirror. shows 6 in the morning. Damn! I should just sleep for a few more hours. Time to go to work is still about two hours from now. What should I do?

By the way, my name is Resti Mulyasari. I've been working in a pastry shop for two years. What can I do? I'm just a high school graduate girl. My diploma was not able to deliver myself to a more prestigious job. I can't continue my studies because there is no money. My parents in the village are only small boat fishermen. I don't want to burden them. I once had the intention of pursuing a scholarship, but my brain was barely able. The only hope of progress in my life in the future is that I will be married to a rich man who is kind. It's up to you to be handsome or not, I'm quite self-aware.

Never mind, instead of me constantly complaining about fate, I'd rather watch TV. There is usually news in the morning, enough for my knowledge intake to cover this dull brain deficiency. But, again, the news is about cases of bribery, tax evasion, or other bad news that makes the announcer's lips frown. The only news that made the host smile was the news of the mayoral election that would be held in a week. It's called the Five Years People's Feast. Huh! His campaign promise is unbelievable. Lollipop is still less sweet than it.

I just turn off this TV. The news is all bad. Prosperity was promised once every five years, while I still lived in a apartment with cracked walls that when it rained the water seeped in. Not to mention if I looked out the window, down there the courtyard of this apartment was very uncomfortable to look at, because there was trash everywhere. Sometimes stray cats run around fighting for the food they stole from the trash. Maybe these cats are the cause of the garbage scattered around.

I glanced at the clock on the wall again, the time was still showing at 06.15. What? I just spent fifteen minutes in front of the TV? Is it better if I just go back to sleep? But bear it, it will be too late. Ah... Yes... I just remembered that I have a pile of dirty clothes. I immediately packed it and put it in a jumbo size black plastic bag. I'll take it to the laundry room downstairs. Maybe it's better to just go to work. Let it be if the time is still long. I can stop by the chicken porridge maker first while waiting.

Don't forget to lock my door. My hands are a bit troublesome because I have to hold the crackle bag containing these dirty clothes. I just put it on the floor while I locked the door. After that I took it back. While I was picking up the crackle bag, the footmark that looked like they belonged to a cat were visible on the floor. Surprisingly, the shape of the was red like blood. This cat must have eaten a mouse. Or finished fighting with his friends.

I just ignore the trivial matter, who cares about the dirty hallway floor? So far I've been the one cleaning. Which of my other neighbors would ever do it? Let them take turns cleaning this hallway floor. Even though I've guessed and made a bet with anyone, when I get home from work this evening the condition of the floor will still be like this. The cat's paw print will not disappear until the apocalypse.

I descended the stairs carrying my bag of dirty clothes. The lazy neighbor I meant earlier, now crosses paths. She climbed the stairs to the top floor. Opportunity for her to see the painting of the cat in the hallway above. Let her feel.

"Going to work, Right?" she smiled. That's all, already know why ask. Was there no other greeting other than a question to which he already knew the answer?

However, my satisfaction paid off when I reached the ground floor. When I was weighing my dirty clothes in the laundry room, from above, I heard my neighbor screaming loudly.

"Shut up..." I said quietly. She must have been very surprised by the condition of the floor covered in stray cat paws mark. It meant that he had to clean it this time because he was too tired to see it. There must be a bad feeling to see what is dirty, a sane person must have a sense of wanting to clean. Is it time for you not to know yourself? How long do you want?

***