In a convenience store, Lukas Kroll mechanically scanned various items at the counter, helping a mother and her teenage son. The boy, engrossed in his portable gaming console, furiously mashed its buttons.
Lukas inquired, his tone devoid of emotion, "Would you like a bag, ma'am?"
The mother, her arms laden with items, retorted with a playful chuckle, "Nah, think I'll just carry everything with my extra eight arms. Of course, I want a bag, silly goose, haha."
Kroll stopped and favoured her with a deadpan stare, his expression as inscrutable as ever. However, he eventually obliged, grabbing a bag and commencing the process of packing their purchased items.
Meanwhile, the teenage boy remained absorbed in his video game, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"You gotta stop with the corny jokes, Mum," he remarked without taking his eyes off the game. "We're not all funny, and that's okay."
His mother, undeterred, asserted, "Yeah, well, I'm funny. If you disagree, then you're the problem."
The boy responded with a touch of sarcasm, "Yeah, keep telling yourself that…"
On the convenience store's TV, a news reporter's voice took over the background.
"Breaking News," the reporter declared, "as Dove police chief executive, Jürgen Kroll, has announced that they have opened an investigation into the six individuals found dead at Alter Wall 35."
Kroll, who had paused in his actions, listened attentively.
"The police have deemed the situation a 'criminal offence,'" the news reporter continued. "As the inflicted wounds showed no signs of beasts being involved."
The mother expressed her sympathy, "How sad. Hope the suspect gets caught!"
The teenage boy, however, questioned the integrity of the Dove officers.
"Where were the Dove officers?" he challenged, his gaze still locked on his game. "Or do they only care about getting validation points from killing beasts?"
"David! Don't say that!" his mother scolded him.
David, undeterred, defended his viewpoint. "What? Am I wrong? Why do they never care to protect us unless it involves the beasts? Seems very off. Almost like it doesn't get them any attention, so they don't bother…"
A subtle smirk played on Lukas Kroll's lips as he listened to the teenager's candid commentary.
"You're an interesting kid," he mused, his voice barely above a whisper. He handed them the packed groceries and gave them a gleaming, if mysterious, smile.
"Have a nice day."
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Rain pelted the evening streets of Berlin as Lukas Kroll entered a small terraced house.
Inside, Kroll removed his shoes with a casual scrape of his feet. The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears.
An elderly woman's voice called out, "Lukas."
He looked up to find Ella Kroll, a 67-year-old woman with silver hair, in a long, loose-fitting dress. Her eyes beamed with warmth.
"Just in time for dinner!" Ella exclaimed.
Later, Kroll and Ella sat at a table, sharing a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
Ella initiated the conversation, inquiring, "So how was work today?"
Kroll's reply was a nonchalant "Meh..."
A brief silence hung in the air, and Ella reflected on recent events.
"I feel for the families of those six people that got killed at Alter Wall the other day," she remarked. "Such a sad world we live in."
Kroll, his expression hinting at a smirk, offered his perspective. "Honestly, it sounds like someone who had nothing to lose. Someone who probably had urges he couldn't control…and hadn't received enough help controlling those urges."
Ella considered this, responding, "But-but that's not an excuse, is it? Anyway, Jürgen announced an investigation has been opened. I hope that killer gets caught!"
Kroll concurred, "I hope so too…"
Ella changed the subject, her tone filled with excitement. "Oh, speaking of Jürgen, guess who called today?"
Kroll's response was a simple "...Jürgen?"
Ella revealed the news with enthusiasm, "Jürgen! He says he's joining us for dinner next week!"
Kroll's reaction was nonchalant, as he continued eating his spaghetti, unruffled by the news.
A puzzled look crossed Ella's face, "Aren't you excited to see your brother? You haven't seen each other in months!"
Kroll put down his fork, and his voice betrayed a hint of sarcasm, "I wonder whose fault that is…"
Ella tried to offer a reasonable explanation, "Oh, stop. He's the chief executive of the Dove police. He's a busy man."
Kroll chuckled and posed a question, "What are you trying to say? You saying that hypocrite is better than me?"
Ella responded with a loving reassurance, "Darling, of course, that is not what I meant. I was just saying…"
Kroll abruptly stood up from the table, leaving his half-finished plate.
"Thanks for the food, Mum," he said curtly. "I'll be going to bed now."
As he left the room, Ella called after him, her voice filled with concern, "Lukas…"
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In a lavish mansion, a beautiful chandelier cast a warm, golden light over the room. A long dining table was set with a decadent feast of chicken, spaghetti, wine, and fresh fruits. The air was filled with the rich aroma of food, adding to the luxurious ambiance.
Seated at the table, the wealthy Douglas Hastings indulged in the meal with unchecked greed. He eagerly dug into the dishes, smearing sauces and crumbs on his hands. Ignoring manners, he grabbed a wine glass and filled it generously, then gulped down the wine, his hunger and thirst consuming him entirely.
He was abruptly interrupted by a resounding knock at the mansion's entrance. Startled, he paused, his beady eyes narrowing with suspicion at the imposing door.
"Who's there?" Douglas bellowed, his voice tinged with an air of entitlement.
A tremulous male voice quavered from the other side of the door.
"It-it's me, Winson, sir," the voice stammered. "You have a visitor."
Douglas leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the door, curious yet cautious.
"Visitor?" He grumbled, more to himself than anyone else. "Wasn't expecting anyone today. Bring them in."
The door creaked open slowly, revealing Winston, the mansion's butler, garbed in his impeccable black and white uniform. His presence was marked by a visible shiver running through his frame, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
A furrowed brow and a tinge of annoyance crept into Douglas's expression as he observed his butler's dishevelled state. Winston hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, revealing the unexpected guest.
In a confident and deliberate stride, a mysterious figure made their entrance. The newcomer, masked and enigmatic, went by the name Kimberley.
"Mr. Hastings," Kimberley greeted with a hint of intrigue. "One of the wealthiest men in the Britannus Kingdom. I'm delighted to finally make your acquaintance."
Douglas stared at Kimberley with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, his attention wavering between her and his perplexed butler.
"Huh?" He grumbled, nonplussed. "Winston, who's the girl?"
Kimberley ignored Douglas's inquiry and turned to Winston, her knowing smile hid behind her mask.
"Winston," Kimberley addressed the butler, "do you mind giving us some...privacy?"
The butler, still trembling slightly, stammered his consent, his nervousness palpable.
"Uh- sure," Winston replied hurriedly before making a hasty exit, avoiding eye contact with Douglas as he closed the door behind him.
Douglas attempted to protest, but the door was promptly shut, leaving him alone with Kimberley.
Douglas inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and suspicion, "wh-who are you?"
Kimberley, seemingly undeterred by the millionaire's scepticism, retorted, "Who I am doesn't matter. It's about what I want to be."
Douglas's piercing gaze held Kimberley captive.
"What the heck are you on about?" he demanded, his bewilderment evident.
"I've heard," Kimberley began cryptically, "that you're preparing for an illegal auction in about...two weeks."
Douglas's bewilderment deepened. He leaned forward, a mixture of astonishment and concern etched on his face.
"How do you know about that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "And how did you even find my location?"
Kimberley, with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, replied, "I have my ways. But that's besides the point. I want in."
Douglas's bewilderment grew as he processed Kimberley's request.
"Huh?" he exclaimed, still taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. "You could've just shown up to the auction instead of invading my home! And what would a kid like you want to do at an auction?"
Kimberley maintained an air of composure despite Douglas's scepticism.
"I don't want to participate," she explained calmly. "I want you to add me to your security team."
Douglas couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh at the absurdity of the notion.
"Security?" he guffawed, his laughter echoing through the room. "And why would I add a little girl like you to my security? Have you even ever held a gun before? Sorry, but my security team isn't meant to be a playground for kids. Now, leave my house! You've interrupted my lunch!"
Kimberley's casual demeanour remained unwavering.
"Trust me," she assured him, her voice laced with confidence. "I could add a lot to your squad."
Douglas raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge.
"Huh? Like what?" he inquired, curious about Kimberley's proposition.
However, before Kimberley could respond, an unexpected intrusion shattered the dining room's tranquillity. A body hurtled through the window, crashing onto the dish of food in front of Douglas. Shocked and wide-eyed, Douglas could hardly believe his eyes; the body wore a security uniform, adding to the surreal nature of the situation.
Douglas muttered, his thoughts racing. "What the...we're on the third floor."
Kimberley, with an innocent and almost playful tone, chimed in.
"Oopsies."
Startled, Douglas abandoned his chair and hastened toward the shattered window. Peering out into the courtyard, he spotted Alko and Udo, who were busy dusting themselves off amidst a sea of his security personnel.
A sense of disbelief washed over Douglas as he watched the unexpected visitors. Alko casually raised a hand and waved in his direction.
"Who the heck..." Douglas began to mutter, trailing off as his attention was suddenly captured by one of his security officers. This officer struggled to his feet, aiming his automatic rifle menacingly at Udo.
Without hesitation, the weapon discharged a shot, sending a bullet hurtling towards Udo. Yet, the bullet's trajectory was abruptly intercepted by a rubber bullet. This rubber bullet ricocheted off the lethal projectile and struck the security guard's forehead, instantly rendering him unconscious.
Douglas turned his gaze to the left, where Kimberley stood with her pistol aimed out of the window, her actions swift and precise.
"Yes," Kimberley confirmed, her voice steady. "I have indeed held a gun before."
The realization dawned upon Douglas as he regarded the audacious intruder.
"Are-are you...Dove hosts?" he inquired with a mixture of astonishment and a hint of concern.
Kimberley met Douglas's gaze, her eyes hidden behind the mask, and simply asked, "What do you think?"