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A pair of greedy, beady black eyes locked onto the back of a man standing amongst the clutter of a mechanical workshop. His eyes lined the softly glittering, gold, whirly embroidery patterned onto the dark grey suit.
You don’t often see people wearing such fancy get-ups in this part of the City, surely that man is stuffed to the brim with cash?
The thin, rich fellow seemed to be engrossed in examining one of the many little mechanical trinkets in his hand, the thumb and index finger poised under the chin in deep thought. So fixated was he that the sound of a wrench being adjusted around a sticky gloved hand, nor the creeping, stealthy footsteps inching closer to him, reached his ears.
The air stirred.
The wrench came down.
The suit pockets were overturned.
In a blink, not a living soul was held in the room.
Hong Lu pinched the top of his gear-styled cane and raised it up. Within a series of satisfying clicks, it had shrunk into the size of a pen. As it shifted down, bits of dirt that were previously stuck to the bottom fell off from gravity, leaving only a tiny amount of grime that was swiftly wiped off in one clean motion with his white handkerchief. He attached the mini-cane along the length of his leather belt, and folded his handkerchief within the inside pockets of his coat.
He was dressed peculiarly for City standards: a long brown leather coat, along with a short plaid-patterned cape draped over his shoulders. Inside was a plain black shirt, a thick belt going diagonally across his chest as well as a thinner one around his waist. He had long white pants that displayed a small, thigh-strapped pouch and shiny black leather shoes. Most striking of all was his tophat. A small portion had been removed from the rim of the hat, upon which was attached a gear-shaped monocle with another gear to the top side of it.
Walking down the stone stairs into the basement, Hong Lu’s left jade eye twinkled curiously at what awaited him. Nothing had been said to him about the case, just that his expertise was urgently needed and that he should make for the crime scene as quickly as he could.
As he neared the flooring, he could see that the small, square basement had been turned into some kind of tinkering workshop. A multitude of mechanical tools hung on the board above a wooden work bench that was situated in the top right corner. Boxes were stacked to the ceiling on the left wall and Hong Lu noticed that an open one was stuffed with blueprints. In the center there was a square, metal table with wheeled legs that were locked in place and displayed a few strange machines with a white base and black interior colour. On the left and right walls, metal panels with multiple grilles the size of an index finger were lined from top to bottom. A gentle breeze coursing through the air could be felt. Despite the somewhat cramped feeling the room gave, there was still a comfortable amount of space to walk around without bumping into anything.
Most certainly our victim was an engineer or inventor or something along that line of profession.
Above him, a strong lightbulb illuminated the white tape used to outline the victim’s body as well as a small splotch of blood situated near the head area. Broken pieces of glass were littered around it.
Behind him, the guarding officer handed Hong Lu a file and grumbled, “Mate, we’ve left everything on the scene other than the body and weapon untouched, alright? You go use that noggin of yours and give us a name to catch, meanwhile, I’ll stand at the bloody front door to make sure no one comes in. I'm countin’ on you to make it quick.” He had a bulky build, wearing a dark brown suit and long pants with black covered shoes. A yellow tie was inserted between the lapels. On the sides of both arms and legs were pieces of armour with thick brass lining the edges. A brown cloth cap smothered his messy brown hair and had inherited striking dark violet eyes. Numerous scars were littered all over his arms.
Hong Lu turned to greet his gaze. “Oh Officer Heathcliff, you know how I tend to make these cases trifling matters, this one’ll get the same treatment. Although, I’ve got a feeling that this may be a little more special than any of the other cases that I’ve worked on… Anyhow, I’ll give a cursory look around and maybe even tell you some of the things that I’ve deduced~.”
He spun his attention to the report given to him as footsteps trudged up and away from the basement.
Let’s see how our victim met their demise…
The victim of this case went by the name of Yi Sang, male, aged 29, height 175cm, weight 43kg, single, lived alone, worked as an architect by trade and an inventor on the side.
He was struck on the back of the head with a heavy, blunt object which resulted in instantaneous death. The shape of the wound reflects that of the wrench that was found at the scene. Forensics confirmed that the blood on it had matched the victim’s. Traces of blue nitrile glove prints were found on the handle. The estimated time of death was between 3:30 to 3:50pm. No items or other injuries have been found on the body.
Below shows a clear image of the body, his face lying on the concrete floor and both arms at the side. He wore a dark grey suit, the edges of his cuffs lined with gold. Similarly, at the bottom of the back torso, multiple whirly patterns of gold decorated it. The top left side at the back of the head had slightly tousled black hair from where the wrench had hit him. On the ground, a small pool of blood had gathered around his head, as well as some shattered pieces of clear glass.
His successful career in designing factories has earned him a considerable amount of money from the government, most of which were either saved or spent to further his hobbies of inventing, but otherwise lived a simple livelihood. He seemed to have held an incredibly high intellect, and surrounded himself with a small group of similarly intelligent friends. A calm, easy-going personality and has no known enemies. A frequent face at the annual inventor’s exhibition and has won 4 of their grand prizes in the course of the last decade.
The body was discovered at around 3:45 by a female friend of the victim by the name of Dongbaek. Below is a statement given by her about the discovery of the body:
“I was passing by the street when I noticed that my friend’s door was wide open, so I thought I’d visit him for a bit. I went straight down to his workshop since he’s always coming up with new inventions there. On the stairs, I immediately had a feeling that something was gravely off - there was not a sound to be heard, atypical to what you’d expect if you had known him for quite some time. When I saw him lying face down on the ground, I hurried towards him. I checked his pulse but nothing could be felt. I called the police and remained with him until they arrived. While waiting, I had come to realise that Yi Sang was wearing something completely out of his own fashion sense. A suit decorated with fancy gold trimmings? I wonder if there was an event he had to go to? I don’t recall him ever mentioning something so glamorous as to wear that.”
Here is an in-depth, organised report of the deceased victim Yi Sang created using the information that you have given me, encompassing vital information such as his biological profile, profession, background overview, and witness statement.
If you want, I can:
- summarise the report into 2 - 3 bullet points
- include details from other Mirror Worlds
- or create a fun murder mystery scenario using the above particulars Just say the word and I’ll do it for you :D
Hmm~, I wonder who makes these reports? What a shame to go out so soon, it seemed that he had the potential to stir some waves within the City with his inventions. Quite a comprehensive document, but certain oddities do make themselves apparent here. Well, time to start deducing!
Hong Lu straightened up from the report and headed towards the central table. Atop its cold, smooth surface displayed an array of curious objects: strange, silver devices, bulky machines, a handheld mirror, stray pencils, and a rubber cutting mat.
Best not to touch those, I wouldn’t want to mess anything up.
Raising his hands to the monocle magnifying glass contraption on his top hat, he held down the button on its smooth, brass handle. Thick pieces of glass rolled into the empty gear frame, like the leaves of a camera shutter, to form a convex lens, and a soft click announced the end of the motion. Despite them coming from multiple pieces, there was a thin layer of special liquid on the edge of each piece that ensured that light passed through it like any other magnifying glass. This, along with the walking cane, were his favourite inventions out of all his other ones.
With his legs together, he squatted beside the white tape, his long hair falling touching the ground and forming a small heap. Although Hong Lu had a personality that liked to ensure cleanliness, he paid no mind to the fact that his hair was mingling with the dirt and dust, as he had already devised a solution for it, quite literally. As part of his daily morning routine, he applies a special liquid to the bottom one-third of his hair, like a bird preening its tail feathers. This liquid, when coated on each strand of hair, repels dirt and debris from latching onto it due to its highly slippery surface. It only wears off after a shower or if it comes into prolonged contact with a dirty surface. Just a fun fact.
With thin lips and slightly squinted eyes, he focused on the magnified side of his vision. He would have liked to close his left, but he had received feedback that the view would be obscured. It was a minor hassle having to distinguish between the two bizarrely different views, but Hong Lu could deal with it.
Everything seems to be in order, but these little brown flecks on the ground intrigue me. They seem to resemble cardboard flakes. I should take a look at the ventilation system next.
His young knees deftly pushed him up and brought him to one of the metal panels riddled with grilles as he reverted back his magnifying glass. Placing a hand over some of them, he could feel the somewhat strong wind tickle his palms.
Directly opposite it was the same structure, however, this one wasn’t emitting a breeze.
So, this basement uses unidirectional airflow as ventilation. It’s certainly telling me something definite!
Next on the inspection list, he wandered over to the work bench and its tool board. Upon its many hooks and screwdriver pockets, the tools were neatly displayed with none of them touching each other, although it seems like 2 or 3 of them were missing. Looking down at the table, he could see a screwdriver, a wire cutter, and a small wrench lying about. A few seconds of puzzling revealed that when all the tools on the table were placed back onto their respective areas, there would still be a large enough gap to insert one more tool in the middle.
Presumably that spot belonged to the wrench that was deemed the murder weapon.
The final avenue of interest in the room were the boxes, more specifically, Hong Lu wanted to take a peek at some of the blueprints that were rolled and stuffed inside the open one. Picking up one of them, it seemed like the deceased had the idea of making a remote controlled firework. The design seemed to focus on adding wings to the firework, and flapping them in certain directions to change its trajectory.
The meticulously drawn strokes from our victim suggests that he gave his full effort to each ingenious idea he conceived. I would have loved to discuss inventions with him if he were still alive. But oh well, the good ones tend to die early anyways. He should have seen it coming~.
Hong Lu continued to rummage through the box and glimpsed through each blueprint.
I could engage myself with these plans all day, yet I’ve concluded that all of these, save for one, are unimportant to the case. I have an impoverished killer to catch, preferably done as soon as possible as I want to stock up on my candy stash soon. Anywho, I’ve deduced all that I can from the crime scene. My next agenda would be to inspect the rest of the house and confirm a few of my inferences.
Dusting off his leather-gloved hands, he set his way out of the basement and explored the rest of the house’s interior. Nothing really caught his jade eye, until he came to what seemed like the kitchen.
It was a small kitchen that didn’t really have its own room, more so it was part of the living room. It consisted of an L-shaped white marble countertop with cabinets below and a microwave above it. Down the short side of it was the sink and ovenstove, and at the other end sat a smaller than average white fridge. Curious, Hong Lu pulled open the chiller section and stuck his head inside.
Except that he shouldn’t have.
Because horrible would not even come close to what he had experienced there.
Well, let’s tackle the contents of the fridge in an organised manner, shall we?
Standing proud on the top-most row was an open paper plate that held a pair of raw chicken breasts. Or that was what it seemed to imply, since both had entirely turned a sickening grey, and what even seemed like dark spots of mould. Furthermore, trails of chicken juice had broken through the paper layer and dripped between the plastic bars of the fridge shelf, which coincidentally fell into an open take-out bowl of half-eaten kimchi fried rice. The trillions of bacterial colonies and fungi that it housed were having a field day, judging from the blooming growth of fuzzy green mould at its epicenter. Oh, and there was a half-full carton of yellow “milk” and its sedimented white curds to the right of the abomination bowl.
On the third and last row, a pack of white bread stood lopsided to one side as well as a carton of eggs, strawberry jam, and a greasy stick of butter. Thankfully, these items seemed to be in standard condition sans the butter whose silver paper was ripped and mixing with the dairy product.
One can only imagine the amount of bacteria sliding from the chicken breasts at the top and spreading to the rest of the fridge like an exploded bomb of noxious gas. Simply put, the poor, neglected fridge was a biohazard and the first course of action any sane person should do is to burn it.
The yellowed, flickering lights of the refrigerator shamefully glared at the scandalous contents within. Hong Lu never knew he could somehow hold more pity for an inanimate object more than a dead victim, but here he was, being absolutely appalled at the state of the fridge. He should have listened to his pleading gut to shut the door, but he had hesitated a second too late and was reaping the consequences of a gagging stench that absolutely ravaged his olfactory senses. What was once a playful, curious expression slimefully slid into that of a pained and disgusted grimace. He swatted the air in front of his nose in a futile attempt to abate the smell and closed the fridge door.
I’m going to have to wash my gloves after this.
If there was ever a saving grace for the kitchen, it would be that above the sink was a large double-doored window that opened outwards and overlooked a pleasant little flower bed of yellow spicebushes and a lonely potato stalk.
But something struck Hong Lu as odd.
He stretched out his right arm and leaned toward the window with his left supporting him on the rim of the sink. No matter how far he stretched, his leathered fingertips could not grasp the dark handles of the window. He tried to bring the right window inwards by grasping at its underside with his right hand. However, it seemed like there was a problem with the screws, as much effort was expended but returned with little results.
Suspicious! Intuition calls that I ought to investigate this further.
Once more, he applied the lens of his magnifying glass over his right eye and began to survey the sink area and window for clues. He had a hunch that whoever had dunnit may have escaped through the window instead of the front door.
Sure enough, after a minor bit of searching, bits of dirt could be found on the ledge of both the sink and the window, as well as the same brown specks previously observed on the basement floor.
With a satisfied smile, Hong Lu reverted his lens and made his way to the front door. His investigation was about to reach its conclusion. All that’s left is to check the front door.
“Heya, Officer Heathcliff! I’ve almost wrapped up my investigation - I just need to check something at the front door.”
“That was, what, thirty minutes?” Heathcliff questioned and raised a brow.
“About there, yes.” From the inside of his leather coat he took out a small bottle filled with silvery powder as well as a brush that was kept inside a pouch. He was going to test the doorknob for fingerprints.
Spilling a little bit of the powder around the metal knob that faced the outside, he dusted it around with the brush. Doing this a few more times revealed a faint set of identical fingerprints.
Similarly, he tested the knob from the inside. This one developed a much stronger imprint of the same fingerprints found outside. Satisfied at his handiwork, Hong Lu stowed away his kit.
Walking back outside he initiated his magnifying glass once more and peered into the keyhole of the doorknob.
“Anything you need the forensics team to analyse?”
Hong Lu let out a small chuckle and brightly replied, “Oh there’s no need for the forensics team. I know who’s done the deed.” He straightened up from the knob and faced the officer.
“Eh wot? That fast mate? Bloody sod must’ve left gobs of evidence in his wake huh? Well then, tell me, who killed our bloke?” Heathcliff folded his arms questioningly.
“Oh, I would have loved to, but I’m feeling peckish right now, so I think I’ll find something to eat~.”
“Wh- Lad! There’s a murderer out there and instead of helping the coppers you want to have tea time?” Heathcliff looked flabbergasted, throwing his arms around him.
“Don’t worry about it, Officer Heathcliff! It’ll all be fine~. Ah, and you should try to call for someone to take your post, you wouldn’t want to leave it empty, would you?”
Heathcliff was now confused beyond words, scratching his hair under his cap. He wanted to ask what Hong Lu had meant but he had already started walking away, a cane in hand and a lollipop between his lips.
After turning a corner, Hong Lu whipped out his leathered notebook and fountain pen from the inside of his coat, the cane leaning against his leg.
Every budding detective needs a pen and notebook on them, and even a good coat to hide all our secret tools!
He flipped to a page that was about two-thirds filled. With shoulders widened and his left hand supporting the face of the book, he began to scribble within the vacant space:
- To Ryoshu my assistant, meet me at the cake shop at Harreton Road at 4:35 pm today -
After capping his pen, he stared at the message for a while, before stowing everything away and continuing his short stroll to the written destination.
Ryoshu found him outside under a colourful parasol, indulging in what he later clarified was a “Banoffee cake” - a light brown, 2 layered coffee cake with bananas on top and a caramel filling.
Dropping down from the roof of the one-floor cake shop, she landed right behind the empty peeling, metal chair opposite Hong Lu, just as he was bringing the fork to his mouth. A pause, before he broke out into a beaming smile. Putting down the fork, he welcomed, “Ryoshu~! How have you been? I hope you’ve been well. Would you like a cake?”
“D.C. Get to the point. Now.” Puffing out cigarette smoke, her voice was terse and harsh, but the detective knew she meant no harm. The assistant was wearing a thin, brown suit over a black undershirt, donning long black pants. Upon her head sat a brown-banded black cloth cap. And of course, on her back was strung her peculiar odachi.
“I think you’ll find this particular task fun. Now listen close…”
Back at the victim’s house, Heathcliff was chatting with one of his colleagues from the force. Short, handsome black hair with a skin of light grey complexion, wearing the same police uniform as Heathcliff.
“... absolutely loves my cooking, especially when I make pajeon. She’ll literally start drooling the moment she smells it!”
“Eh you must be a pretty good cook! My girl comes from a rich family so good food isn’t a worry for her. I sometimes make her these flower bracelets and she seems to really like them, heh! I reckon the purple- Wha, bloody hell, Ryoshu!”
From her hiding spot, she’d suddenly dashed and assaulted a passing man, like a black panther ambushing its prey, knocking him out cold. She started forcefully stuffing him into a brown potato sack, and motioned towards Heathcliff to follow her.
Heathcliff and his friend exchanged bewildered glances, before tentatively uttering “I reckon this might be my cue to leave. Cheers for covering my shift, lad, I’ll try to make it up to you some other time!” He trotted towards Ryoshu, but apparently he wasn’t being fast enough as she spat “Hurry up. You’re an L. A. T. P. (Loser At Turtle’s Pace)”
“Dunno what that means, but fine, I’ll try to be faster!”
“Tch. No lagging behind. I won’t backtrack to look for you.”
“You’re hauling that bulky bodysack around, I oughta be able to keep up with you.”
No sooner had those words left his tongue, Ryoshu slung the rucksack over with both hands and bolted from the pavement, the large weight astonishingly flying off her shoulders from her sheer speed.
Bollocks, me and my big mouth! C’mon, put yer pedal to the mettle!
Hoping to not lose her, Heathcliff dashed behind her tracks.
Their great sprint across the District brought them to a cute, 3-roofed, stonewalled cottage decorated with bright yellow spicebushes on the front lawn. Heathcliff was positively out of breath and had his hands on his knees, having had to navigate through cluttered back alleys that were full of obstacles. Despite that, he had a feeling that the route Ryoshu had opted for was a shortcut, to which he was grateful for. Who knew how much longer he could keep up her mad sprint!
Ryoshu, being the inhuman beast that she was, didn’t even break a sweat, nor was she remotely panting. She unceremoniously banged on the white door. “Oi, I’ve got your prey. O. T. D.”
“Ah, that must be them! No worries, I’ll get the door in your stead~.” From his cross-legged position, Hong Lu got up from the cushy maroon armchair. He found the incessant rattling of the door quite amusing and it brought a small chuckle onto his face.
Pulling the door open, the detective once again greeted his assistant with a joyful grin.
Before he could say anything, Ryoshu cut him off. “Took you long enough.”
“Much thanks for bringing the suspect and Heathcliff here, Ryoshu! Nudge him inside, if you could?”
Leaping from the patio - with the rucksack as well, mind - she kicked Heathcliff’s shins. “Hurry up.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got you, woman! Bloody hell…” grumbled Heathcliff and he made his way to the door. A sadistic smirk spread over Ryoshu’s face as her red eyes started to glow.
Back at the patio, Hong Lu addressed, “The time has arrived for me to reveal the truth of this case. Ryoshu, Officer Heathcliff, please, I invite you to witness the finale~.”
The duo set foot into the house’ interior which opened up into a spacious, cozy living room. A round, overhead light twinkled above, shining over the glossy wooden floorboards. A box television was placed against the right wall on a long, wooden cabinet. A beige leather sofa sat opposite the tele and in between was a glass coffee table that held a tea set. The maroon armchair was placed furthest away from the front door in the living room and the stone walls were decorated with various paintings. On the sofa sat a woman with dark, short hair, wearing a brown aviator jacket, black paints, and dark leather shoes. Next to her was a thin man with droopy, flat black hair. He wore a plain white buttoned shirt with its sleeves rolled up, long black pants that were held up by a pair of overall straps, and sporting black covered shoes.
When Heathcliff first clapped eyes on the black haired man, he thought he was going insane.
How on earth is the victim here? The lad’s supposed to be dead!
“Alright Ryoshu, you can leave the bag here.” Hong Lu pointed to an empty spot on the floor that was next to the armchair.
She flung the body sack across the room, much to the bashfulness of Hong Lu and mortification of the others. The body landed with a crashing thud. She smirked and raised an eyebrow, as if taunting them.
“Now then,” Hong Lu began, feigning ignorance at what had just happened, “since all the relevant parties are here, I shall bring a satisfactory conclusion to this case- Wait up! Ryoshu, I implore you to stay here with me!”
Just as he began, Ryoshu started to toddle-off, hands in her pockets.
“Nope, ain’t staying.”
“Come, now! You’re my assistant! What kind of detective would I be if I didn't even have my assistant witness the closure of this case? I’ll even throw in an extra box of cigs if you stay. Please?” Now was an opportune time for Hong Lu to deploy his pitiful, puppy-eyed expression as an attempt to convince his aloof partner. He knew it didn’t always work, but he had no other tricks up his sleeve, and he really did wish for her to watch him do his dramatic reveals.
Her ears pricked up the moment she heard him say cigarettes. Her one true love in this plain, miserable world. In an instant, she spun around, returned to his side. Hong Lu beamed at her.
At this moment, Yi Sang seemed to be visibly confused. No one had told him of a case that had to be solved.
“As I was saying,” clapping his leathered hands together, “the case shall be concluded presently. First, let me introduce Dongbaek, the young lady seated here, Yi sang beside her, Officer Heathcliff over there, Ryoshu my assistant beside me, and finally, this mysterious rucksack.”
Walking over to it, Hong Lu grabbed the bottom with both hands and pulled it off with a flourish. Out tumbled an unconscious weary looking man in his forties, clutching a crumpled box of medicine in the crook of his arm. Long, dark, wavy hair with strands of white covered the top of his head as well as a bristly stubble over the front of his face. Under his eyes, shadowy eyebags hung below them. He wore a tattered light gray hoodie, blue jeans, and battered white sneakers.
Gasps of shock were expected from Dongbaek and Yi Sang, while the rest said nothing.
“I- Uh, Hong Lu, what’s the meaning of this?” questioned Dongbaek.
“Quite! Whyever have you brought upon such a poor fellow here?” Upon his face lay furrowed eyebrows and a frown, a look of clear worry on Yi Sang.
In spite of their reactions, Hong Lu continued his smiling stance, “All in due time, my friends~. “
Turning to Yi Sang and leaned forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back, “Yi Sang, I have some very unfortunate news for you this evening…”
He looked at him with trembling fear in his gut.
“... you have died.”
He initially assumed an expression of shock, then he began to bite his lip and fiddle with the buckles on his overalls, as if he was casting his mind back somewhere.
“Yeah that was what I was thinkin’ too! Wasn’t he murdered in his basement?” Heathcliff blurted.
Murdered? Wait…
Yi Sang’s eyes grew wide again, a sudden realisation having crashed upon him.
“Ah, it cannot be…! Has my mirror self really…”
“Unfortunately, yes. The body of an alternate version of you has been discovered within the basement of your home, killed by the unconscious man that Ryoshu had brought into this room.”
Yi Sang didn’t know what to say. He felt like a bumbling fool for having left his mirror self all alone in an unfamiliar world.
Hong Lu started to pace around the room, “This is what I deduce to have been the series of events: Yi Sang, having successfully summoned your alternate self into the world, tried to find Dongbaek in her home to relay to her this breakthrough. However, in your excitement, you had left the front door wide open, essentially beckoning burglars to enter.”
“Then came along our unconscious friend. He saw the open door and took his chance to loot it. Upon entering the basement, he found your alternate self and assaulted him over the head with a heavy wrench to steal his wallet. Afterwards, he tried to exit through the front door, but saw a certain presence outside.”
“Was it me?” Dongbaek wondered.
“I believe it was,” Hong Lu faced her and nodded. “He didn’t want to be caught trespassing, thus he dashed towards the kitchen, stepped onto its counter, opened the window, dropped down into the flower patch and made his getaway.”
“Moments after, Dongbaek entered the house and found the body in the basement, which was when the authorities were called and I was sent to solve the case. After giving her statement, she went back home and found Yi Sang waiting outside.”
“But why didn’t she tell the cops that Yi Sang was well and alive?” Heathcliff asked quizzically.
“Oh, ah, I thought it would be fun to see how they would solve the case. I didn’t even tell Yi Sang here! I wanted to keep it as a surprise from him.” Joked Dongbaek.
“I certainly would have never guessed this outcome.” Yi Sang admitted.
Turning his head to Hong Lu, Yi Sang questioned “Detective, if you could impart upon us your method of catching this man, we would be much obliged.”
“Oh it was elementary, really- and it was Ryoshu who caught him, not me~. After leaving the crime scene, I had arranged a meeting with Ryoshu where I would give her the details of our man. I told her to stake a lookout near Yi Sang’s home where she could watch the street. When she saw a man with a height of about 1.7 meters, poorly dressed, sleep-deprived, left-handed, and wearing boots covered in thin shreds of cardboard, she was to bring him and Officer Heathcliff to Dongbaek’s house. I had a hunch that our victim would be crossing the same street to go back home, and I was right!”
“That description seems overly specific, how did you even get that?” Dongbaek was curious.
He placed his thumb and index finger on his chin, assuming a look of rumination. “Investigating the crime scene allowed me to build up a profile of our killer. To begin, the report that Officer Heathcliff had given me showed a photo of the dead body. I observed that the wound was quite high up, on the left side of his head. Thus, I concluded that only someone with a height similar to our victim could inflict the wound there, and that hitting it on the left side would be more convenient for a left-handed person.”
“Next, I had found traces of cardboard specks in certain areas of interest, such as the area beside the body and on the kitchen counter. These likely came from the boots of a production worker from the cardboard manufacturers in the District. When walking around the house, he had imprinted these cardboard specks, allowing me to identify his occupation.”
“This leads on to my third point - our man was most definitely a night-shift worker. At the time of the murder, it was well within the day-working hours at the cardboard manufacturers so it could not have been one of them, and I had been made aware of the existence of a night-shift one. Thus, our culprit would be in severe want of sleep, especially after having worked for a full day.
“Finally, there was the financial status of our man. Based on my deductions that he worked as a low-paying factory worker, it points to the fact that he was in dire need of money. Furthermore, my first impression of the victim was that he was incredibly rich. The gold pattern on his suit was highly visible and boasted his wealth. In the report, it had clarified that no items had been observed on his person, which points to the idea that he had been mugged for valuables.”
“And there they are, my findings from the case laid out for all of you to see~.” Facing his audience, Hong Lu took off his top hat and made a sweeping bow.
“A mirror world version of yourself, huh? Feels like something straight outta fiction.” Heathcliff scratched the back of his head, feeling like he had somehow been involved in something way out of his depth.
“As they say, truth is always stranger than fiction~.” He put back on his top hat.
“You mean your silly detective cartoons that you always watch?”
“Ah, um… Officer Heathcliff, it’s getting late and we would all like to go home soon, so I think you should bring the culprit to the station now.” A blush of embarrassment bloomed on the cute detective’s face as he tried to smile it off.
“Yeah, whatever kid!” He smirked, knowing that he had won a point against him.
Handcuffs in hand, Heathcliff latched and locked it around the culprit’s wrist, before radioing for a police vehicle.
“Officer Heathcliff, I think it would be prudent to not mention anything about the mirror technology for now.”
“No worries mate, I understand.”
The police car rolled in, took Heathcliff and the culprit away, and left just as quickly as they came.
“Well, that’s the case solved! Here are your double boxes, I made sure to get the finest huáng hè lóu cigarettes from H Corp as thanks for being my wonderful assistant!”
“Finally.” Ryoshu practically snatched them out of his outstretched palms, tore one cig out of the box and lit it up as she walked out the front door. Hong Lu had no idea where she spends her time outside, hopefully not terrorising the City folk. Perhaps when cases have run dry, he could devise a way to look further into it without her finding out.
Ever since Hong Lu had left the crime scene, his curiosity had been itching at the back of his mind, but now it had reached a new high. Unable to contain himself further, he decided that now was the time to take it out.
From within his fascinating coat, he pulled out the simple mirror that he had found in Yi Sang’s basement, surprising him and Dongbaek.
“Yi Sang, from your basement I found this peculiar mirror as well as its blueprint. Having read the specifics, I was simply curious to know what my mirror world self would look like. If you may..?”
A few days later, the man named Ian Demorderer was charged with trespassing, first-degree murder, and mugging. Apparently, he had a sick daughter at home and needed to purchase some medicine from the pharmacist. However, due to his lack of funds, he chose to steal from Rich Yi Sang in order to afford treatment for her. Despite hearing this, the judge had doled out his punishment and refused to send an official visit to the daughter. No one knew what happened to her after the case had closed. Afterall, this was the City, why should people care about others when they are already struggling with their own livelihoods?