Detective Joahna Moriarty stepped off the train and onto the bustling platform of New Albion. The city was a sprawling metropolis, with gleaming skyscrapers and shadowy alleyways that promised both opportunity and danger. Her arrival was marked by the usual disinterest of the locals, but she wasn't here for pleasantries. She was here on a mission—a mission that had consumed her life for years.
Joahna adjusted her trench coat, its worn fabric a testament to countless investigations and near-misses. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned the crowd as she made her way to the exit. The Butcher. The name alone made her grit her teeth , a mix of anger and frustration. He was the one criminal who had always eluded her grasp, and she was determined to bring him to justice.
Several demihumans had disappeared from the slums of New Albion recently, a pattern that matched The Butcher's modus operandi. Joahna had been following his trail across cities and countries, never quite catching him but always staying close behind. This time, she hoped it would be different.
Her mentor, the greatest detective in the country - the world, even, had raised her to value her intellect and pragmatism above all else. But her lineage was a dark stain on her soul—she was the granddaughter of his greatest enemy, a criminal mastermind who had terrorized the nation. Joahna had devoted herself to justice, seeking to atone for her grandfather's sins by catching the worst - and smartest - criminals. The Butcher was the last name on her list, the one who had slipped through her fingers time and time again.
Lighting a cigarette, Joahna took a deep drag, the smoke curling around her in the cool evening air. The alleys of New Albion awaited her, and she knew that somewhere in the shadows lay the answer she sought. She started her investigation at the heart of the slums, where the most desperate and downtrodden lived.
The denizens of the alleys were a rough bunch, hardened by life's struggles and wary of outsiders. But Joahna had a way of getting people to talk. Her reputation as a relentless detective preceded her, and the promise of protection—or retribution—often loosened tongues.
She approached a group of rough-looking men huddled around a makeshift fire. "Evening, gentlemen," she said, her voice carrying authority despite its calm tone. "I'm looking for information on a masked man who's been seen around here recently."
One of the men, a grizzled orc with a scar running down his face, looked up at her. "And who might you be?"
"Joahna Moriarty," she replied, showing her badge. "Private investigator and consulting detective."
The orc grunted, taking a swig from a bottle. "Lots of masked men in these parts. What makes you think we'd know anything?"
Joahna stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Because several demihumans have gone missing recently, and I believe you've seen something. The man I'm looking for fits a very specific description."
The orc glanced at his companions, who shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he sighed. "Yeah, we've seen him. Wears a mask, moves like a ghost. Folks around here are scared of him."
Joahna's heart quickened. "Tell me more. What does he look like? When was he last seen?"
Another man, a wiry elf with twitchy fingers, spoke up. "Saw him a few nights ago. Tall, muscular, wore a dark cloak and a mask. He was dragging a goblin kid. Poor thing was screaming for help, but no one dared to intervene."
Joahna clenched her fists. "Where did he take them?"
The elf pointed down a dark alley. "That way. Leads to the old factory district. It's a dead zone now, no one goes there unless they're up to no good."
Taking another drag from her cigarette, Joahna nodded. "Thank you. Stay safe, and if you see him again, let me know." She handed the orc a card with her contact information.
As she walked away, her mind raced with possibilities. The description matched The Butcher perfectly. She was finally closing in on him, and this time, she wouldn't let him slip away. She extinguished her cigarette and set off towards the factory district, her resolve steeled by the faces of the victims she'd failed to save in the past.
The Butcher had evaded justice for too long, and Joahna Moriarty was determined to bring his reign of terror to an end. She pulled her coat tighter around her and disappeared into the shadows, ready to confront the darkness head-on.
***
Hidden in the shadows of a nearby alley, Liam watched as Joahna Moriarty stepped off the train and onto the platform of New Albion. He had known she'd arrive today, having repeatedly read the book. Joahna was his favorite character in the book, the one he admired—no, loved—the most. The protagonist. She was brave, intelligent, beautiful, and relentless in her pursuit of justice. She was perfect.
Liam's heart raced as he saw her in person for the first time. There she was, the legendary detective who had dedicated her life to catching criminals and righting wrongs. He could see the fire in her eyes, the same fire that had burned through the pages of the novel. Her presence was commanding, even as she moved through the crowd with a determined grace.
"She's even more amazing in real life," Liam thought, almost swooning. "Look at her—so fierce, so focused. The way she carries herself, the way she observes everything around her—it's no wonder she came so close to catching The Butcher. And that coat! It's just like in the book! I can't believe I'm actually seeing her. She's perfect!"
Joahna lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating her face in the dimming light. Liam watched in awe as she took a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "She's so cool. No wonder she almost beat Victor by herself. But this time, she won't end up like in the book. She won't be alone! Not if I can help it! She'll see—I'm the one who truly understands her."
He stayed hidden, making sure not to draw attention to himself. He knew he had to be careful. Joahna was a seasoned detective, and the last thing he wanted was to spook her. He needed to find a way to warn her, to help her without revealing too much about his own knowledge of the events to come.
"I need to find the right moment to approach her. Maybe I can pose as someone who has information about The Butcher. But I have to be careful. If she thinks I'm just another informant, she might not take me seriously. I need to prove to her that I can be trusted. I can stay close to her!" he said, blushing.
Joahna started to make her way towards the exit, her coat billowing slightly in the breeze. Liam followed at a safe distance, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew that she would begin her investigation in the slums, questioning the locals about the recent disappearances. It was exactly what she did in the novel, and he had to ensure that she stayed safe while doing so.
As Joahna disappeared into the maze of alleyways, Liam's determination solidified. He would find a way to save her, no matter what it took. This was his chance to change the story, to be the hero that Joahna needed. And perhaps, in doing so, she would see that they were meant to be together, after all.