The Crime System

The Missing Mystery

All three victims were missing their hands. It was horrifying, and Luke could hardly believe his own notes, but it was true—their hands had been cut off and taken by the culprit. Standing in the dim light of the crime scene, his mind raced. What was the killer's purpose? To keep them as trophies?

The thought crossed his mind that maybe this was a twisted form of revenge, something he'd seen before. In his line of work, revenge-driven killings always had a pattern, a motive. The people chosen were targeted intentionally, and somehow, it felt like these victims—though seemingly unconnected—had been chosen for a reason. Perhaps they had wronged the killer in some way. But what kind of hatred would lead someone to such a brutal punishment?

Yet, for all his theories, Luke kept hitting dead ends. The investigations hadn't turned up a single red flag about these people. They were described as respectable by their families, friends, even neighbors. There was no sign of any enemies or feuds in their lives, and the three didn't even know each other. It left him at a standstill, trapped in his own thoughts, struggling to make sense of it all. It was like walking through a maze, the answer always just out of reach.

But as late as it was, Luke knew he couldn't leave it at that. Activating the crime system in his mind, he tried to get a new reading on the case. It was past midnight—a new day—another chance to make a calculation, and maybe gain some insight. Lighting a cigarette, he leaned back in his chair, hoping to see something he hadn't before.

The next thing he knew, Luke was jolted awake by his phone's alarm. The tune that played was his own little reminder to chase after every lead, no matter how unlikely. Still groggy, he looked around and realized he'd dozed off at the station, his head buried in his notes. And then it hit him—he'd set the crime system last night. But in his exhaustion, he couldn't remember a thing it told him. Was it "proof" or "evidence"? He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, but nothing came.

"Ah, Hero, please chase the dream with me…" His phone continued to ring, vibrating across the table. It was Jenna Dalton, his landlord's daughter. A kid in school should have no reason to be calling him this early, but the phone wouldn't stop, so he answered it.

"Finally! Where are you?" she said, sounding a bit frantic. "You didn't come home last night, and I left a message for you!"

"I was working overtime. What's going on?" Luke asked.

She hesitated, mumbling something, clearly uncomfortable. "Look, just come meet me at your unit, okay? I'll be there soon."

He sighed. "This can't wait?"

"No, it really can't," she said urgently. "Come on, Luke, aren't we partners? You said we were, and now I need you."

Reluctantly, he agreed. The kid was right—he couldn't exactly abandon her when she was in trouble. But Luke was in no hurry to leave, so he turned on the listening device, checking in on Priscillia and her team. They were all still there, and as far as he could see, they were as stumped as he was. Only Priscillia was still awake, staring at the whiteboard, deep in thought. Good. No breakthroughs meant he wasn't falling behind.

Luke took a deep breath, straightened his clothes, and headed out toward the main gate of the police station. Jenna Dalton was already waiting, standing nervously in her school uniform. The early morning breeze made her seem even smaller, and she looked uneasy, lips pressed tight and glancing around like she was on edge.

"What's going on, kid?" he asked, pulling her aside.

She hesitated, shifting nervously before finally saying, "Could you… be my dad for today?"

Luke almost choked. "Wait, what?" he coughed, still trying to process what she'd just said.

"There's a parent-teacher conference this morning," she explained quickly. "If my real dad goes, I'm done for! And you're the only one I can trust."

He groaned, wiping cola off his face. "Listen, kid, I'm not that old! Can't I just be your brother or something?"

"No," she said, sounding deadly serious. "I've already intercepted my dad's contact info and transferred it to your phone. The teacher won't know the difference!"

Staring at her, Luke was half-amused, half-dumbfounded. "You're something else, kid. You're hacking phones at your age? We might need you on the team."

"Please!" she pleaded. "The meeting's at eight. I'll cover the cab fare."

He shook his head, exasperated. "If your dad finds out about this, I'll be homeless! Besides, I've got an actual case to work on today. Now get going, or you'll miss the bus!"