Puddles dotted the streets, and old leaves scattered in all directions, remnants of the heavy rain that had just pounded the city. The sky, still blanketed by gray clouds, cast a gloomy, twilight-like atmosphere over the afternoon.
A cool breeze, lingering from the recent downpour, blew gently as a man stepped out of a large hospital. His dark eyes reflected emptiness, haunted by the words of the psychiatrist he had just visited.
"The medication I prescribed doesn't have any side effects that cause hallucinations... So, if you're really experiencing them, it must be caused by something else."
A sudden, sharp pain pierced through Derian's head, forcing him to clutch it as he grimaced in agony. It felt as though chaos was rattling inside his skull. Once again, he found himself questioning his sanity. "If it's not from the medication, then what is it?" he thought bitterly. "Am I not already dealing with PTSD and all these other damn mental disorders? Now, on top of that, do I have schizophrenia too...?"
Ping!
[ Status Window]
System: The Code Of Death
User: Derian Baskara Fajar
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Current Status:
Level: 1
Health: 90 / 100
Mental Stability: 65 / 100
XP: 0 / 1000
Skill Points: 0
Total Points: 0
Good Karma: 0 / 10
Bad Karma: 0 / 10
Reputation: Trusted (Well-regarded by colleagues and the public)
Missions currently active:
Side Quest: Murder Case (Lipstick and Balls)
He glared at the blue holographic screen floating before him, frustration, despair, and anger boiling inside him. It felt like the world kept piling on more burdens, as if his soul was weighed down with exhaustion, desperate for just a moment's peace. "I must be losing my mind," he muttered to himself. "Why do these self-created hallucinations feel so damn real?"
Ping!
[System]
Warning: There is a new victim of the Lipstick and Balls murder case who has been killed!
Derian's brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what the sudden notification meant. He stood there, frozen for a few seconds, his gaze locked on the glowing blue screen in front of him. The unsettling alert echoed in his mind, but before he could process it fully, his phone rang, cutting through the moment.
Without tearing his eyes away from the holographic display, Derian pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and answered the call.
"Bro... Rian was found dead ..."
In an instant, the weariness that had weighed down his dark eyes gave way to a sharp, undeniable shock. His mind raced as he continued staring at the hologram, the implications hitting him hard.
"No... if this is just a hallucination, then why is it warning me about something I didn't even know yet?"
***
Around a modest house in a quiet residential area, there was an unusual crowd. Neighbors gathered nearby, media crews began to arrive, and a police line stretched across the perimeter, marking the boundary for unauthorized individuals. Inside, investigators meticulously searched the house, which had now become the scene of a gruesome murder.
The room that had turned into a'slaughterhouse' just hours earlier was filled with INAFIS officers and detectives, all focused on gathering evidence and uncovering clues left behind by the killer.
Ultraviolet light illuminated the door, revealing several fingerprints scattered across its surface. One of the INAFIS officers quickly applied fingerprint powder with a brush, making the prints more visible. After documenting the discovery with a camera, the officer carefully lifted the prints using fingerprint lifting tape for further analysis.
Candrasa, watching from a distance, commented, "Those look like the victim's own prints," his expression skeptical. His gaze then shifted to a soccer ball being secured by another INAFIS officer. "We even used the super glue fuming method on the evidence left at the last crime scene, but still, not a single fingerprint from the perpetrator was found."
"There's only one possibility—the perpetrator used gloves," Derian said, standing next to Candrasa with his arms crossed.
Candrasa sighed tiredly upon hearing that. His expression showed frustration at how elusive the killer remained.
Derian's dark eyes then scanned the area, conducting a quick bloodstain pattern analysis. The room's walls and ceiling bore various patterns, typical for murder scenes, but something caught his attention; a distinct blood spatter on the surface of an old wooden cabinet near the door. "The blood spatter on this cabinet... Since the artery severed was on the victim's face, it suggests he was likely leaning against the door with his face toward the cabinet before collapsing to the floor," he explained, his voice steady despite the gruesome scene.
Candrasa followed Derian's gaze to the zigzag pattern of blood on the old cupboard—an arterial spurt bloodstain, which occurs when arteries are damaged, causing blood to spurt rhythmically in time with the heartbeat. He sighed heavily, his eyes returning to Rian's body, still lying in a pool of his own blood. "This is getting worse," Candrasa muttered, realizing how viciously Rian had been attacked.
"Let's head out," Derian said, stepping out of the room.
Both men moved slowly, their eyes following the bloodied shoe prints on the floor. The trail of blood led down the hallway toward the kitchen. "The pattern and size of these footprints are identical to the ones we found at the previous crime scene," Candrasa commented to Derian.
Derian simply nodded, following the increasingly faint blood trail until it reached the kitchen, near the back door. He immediately made a conclusion upon seeing the damaged door, which several INAFIS personnel were now examining. "The perpetrator entered through the back door..."
Candrasa narrowed his eyes, focusing on the broken doorknob that had been torn from its place. "For the knob to break like this, it must have taken a heavy blow," he noted, pausing in thought. "But why didn't the victim notice the noise from the perpetrator's entry?"
"It could've been masked by the sound of rain... or the victim was too drunk to notice. Or maybe..." Derian's brow furrowed as he considered another possibility. "The perpetrator was already inside before the victim got home."
"Your last hypothesis seems correct, Lieutenant," said a voice behind them.