Kante stood still, arms crossed, his expression dark and troubled. His mind raced, trying to process the impossible. Nothing made sense, not a single thing. The pieces just didn't fit together.
For weeks now, he'd been dealing with this inexplicable eye pain that struck without warning. He had dismissed it as fatigue at first, telling himself to get an eye drop. But after some careful observation, he noticed a disturbing pattern: the pain always flared whenever a particular song by the lonely guitar man being played.
At first, he couldn't understand the connection between his eye and the song, and he bad decided to avoid the song, staying away from any place where it might come on. But now, standing here in the restroom, he had uncovered a chilling truth.
Someone was seeing through his eyes whenever that song played.
The thought was deeply unsettling, to say the least. How could something like that even be possible? It felt like something out of a nightmare. His embarrassment deepened as he recalled how often the song had played—sometimes in the background while he worked, other times during social gatherings, or on a secret mission.
Kante clenched his fists. How much had this person seen? Too much, undoubtedly. More than anyone should ever see.
"This is getting more interesting."
He muttered to himself, with a devilish smirk on his face.
"But I think I should at least see his face, for recognition."
With that decision made, Kante left the restroom, his thoughts darker and more complicated than before.
---
The sound of metal clinking filled the air as the officers cuffed Uche's wrists, the cold steel biting into his skin. They led him down to the last floor of the building, in a room where a group of senior officers awaited them. The mood in the room was thick with tension, everyone's eyes boring into Uche as if he were already a convicted criminal.
"Is this the suspect?"
Sergeant Kim asked, inspecting Uche from head to toe, standing beside Inspector Ray.
Inspector Ray let out a mocking laugh.
"Look at him—eye patch, black hoodie, face cap. How else would a criminal dress, if we were casting a criminal in a movie, this would be the guy. So, do we finally have Snowflake here, or is this just one of his underlings?"
Uche shot a cold glare at the inspector, his anger simmering just below the surface. Every fiber of his being wanted to lash out, but he managed to keep his composure—for now.
"I bet you wouldn't know a criminal if he was standing right in front of you."
Uche spat, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Brown shoes, black suit, and black socks—that's more like what you bastards are wearing."
Ray's face darkened with fury, and he took a step toward Uche, fists clenched. It was Sergeant Kim who stepped in, placing a firm hand on Ray's shoulder, calming him before things could escalate.
"You two, take him to the headquarters."
Kim ordered, his tone even but authoritative. "We'll wrap things up here and meet you later."
Two officers dragged Uche from the room, leading him down the long hallway that stretched toward the building's main hall. His mind was unusually quiet, devoid of the usual flood of thoughts. Maybe it was shock, or maybe he had finally accepted that his reckless behavior had landed him here.
But one thing he realized was his reckless move, someone in their right state of mind would've remained at home in that situation, instead of going after the killer, even after witnessing his act.
'Stupid,'
Uche thought bitterly to himself. He couldn't deny it—acting recklessly without thinking twice has somehow become his habit. Now, once again, he had made things worse for himself. He cursed silently. There were too many questions spinning in his head, but none of them had clear answers.
'That fat, round-bellied man… Could he be working for Snowflake?'
It hadn't made sense at the time. Uche hadn't even harmed the man. He had apologized for his mistake, yet the pig-like man had still called the cops. What was his angle? Fear? Or something more sinister?
'Maybe it's my appearance,' Uche mused. 'Maybe I scared him.'
His thoughts were abruptly cut off as they passed a young man in a sleek black suit, a pair of polished brown shoes clacking against the floor. Uche barely noticed him, too lost in his own head. The man glanced briefly at Uche, his eyes unreadable behind thick-rimmed glasses, before continuing toward the elevator.
Just as the elevator doors closed, another figure entered the building, from the entrance. A woman, dressed in an ash-gray outfit—matching top and trousers—with a wide-brimmed hat perched on her head. Her lips were painted in a striking black lipstick, matching the dark glasses that obscured her eyes. The sound of her high heels echoed ominously through the hallway as she approached, attracting Uche's attention, as well as the cops'.
Just immediately she got close to them, without warning, one of the officers escorting Uche collapsed to the floor, completely unconscious. Uche barely had time to react before something brushed the back of his head. He turned just in time to see a high-heeled shoe strike the second officer in the face, sending him crashing down as well.
In a matter of seconds, both officers were incapacitated, and standing beside him was the strange woman, her expression unreadable.
"Don't run. Don't speak. Just follow me."
She said in a chilling calm voice.
Uche didn't need to be told twice. He followed her as she walked casually toward the exit, leaving the fallen officers behind as though, nothing unusual had happened.
They approach a black hover bike that was parked a few meters away from the crime scene, where a small crowd had gathered around the bloody pulp of the woman who had been killed by Snowflake. The police had cordoned off the area, keeping the curious onlookers at bay.
Uche spare them a quick glance before he hop onto the bike as the woman gestured to him.
With a swift motion, the bike roared to life and sped off into the distance, cutting through the city streets like a bullet.
As the air brush against his cheek, Uche's mind began to spin again, this time with even more questions. Who was this woman? And how did she know about him?
'No it can't be.'
The picture of the woman who had helped him back then appeared in his head, the woman who helped him escaped from the organ traffickers.
'How did she know I was in trouble, had she been stalking on me.'
Then another thought entered his mind.
'What if she's taking to those guys.'
He had the urge to jump down from the bike, he wouldn't die anyway. But just as the thought crossed his mind, the bike came to a sudden halt.
Coming back to reality, Uche looked up and almost fell from the bike.
"Oh no."