You lean back in your chair, eyes flat.
“Didn’t find it. Took it.”

The hooded figure stiffens, gloved hand tightening on the bag’s edge.
“From who?”

You glance at the broken clock on the wall.
“Bald man. Gray coat. Funny limp.”

The figure’s jaw tightens.
“That’s impossible. He’s dead.”

You slide your revolver onto the table, the metal scraping softly against the wood.
“Yeah… he was.”

The figure’s ...

You slide the bag across the table, the hooded figure opposite you peers inside. “Where the hell did you find this?!” I nervously respond“It was in the factory… sir” “This can destroy a whole continent, what were you thinking!” He said. I find it easy to mess up on missions like this, they always send me the wrong locations. “Well this orange sphere needs to be kept safe, and it’s coming out of yo...

You chuckle, trying not to reveal too much about yourself. “Well,” you say, adjusting your posture towards the figure, “I know a guy who knows a guy who has some inside eyes.”

The figure looks up at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Inside eyes, huh”? The man leans on the table, “and what exactly do those ‘inside eyes’ see”.

“Oh y’know, this and that. Good things, bad things… great things”. You lean ba...

“ I didn’t find it, it was given to me-“ “ Lies ! By whom?!” I ask abruptly as my echo coats the rest of the building. So large with a plethora of furniture except the emptiness would never fill the temple. “One of your people, you must’ve tripped, neither I could know what you were thinking. It appears they’d sold their soul to her, the queen of the new world.” “ How dare you use that tone-?!” “ ...

You slide the bag across the table, the hooded figure opposite you peers inside. “Where the hell did you find this?!”

“I stole it from the raccoon haunting the local trash drums, _where the fuck do you think?!_ Obviously the boss’s office,” I sneer at him, drumming my fingers on the sticky surface of _Rick’s Diner’_s finest table as I lean back in the booth.

The hooded figure—_I really am start...

I slid the bag across the table and the hooded figure peered inside. He seemed scared almost, or at least I thought he did, it’s hard to tell when their face is shrouded in shadow. We were sat at a tavern, the lively roars of drunk’s laughter filled the space, accompanied by the thick stench of ale. I personally preferred wine. The figure looked through the bag again, says if his eyes had deceived...

“Garage sale. You owe me six bucks.”

My client stared at me, eyes bugged out like a goldfish. Every feature on her face was gaunt with stress—she was the human embodiment of that one Edvard Munch painting. “And you’re sure it’s the same one” She pressed, her goldfish eyes boring into the back of my head. “He won’t be able to tell the difference?”

“Same model number and everything. I even scuffed...

Statement of Xavier Huynh, regarding a meeting with an unnamed individual, and a small leather bag that he had received with an odd black box located inside of it.

Statement begins.

It was about 8:41 at nighttime, which could possibly explain why the streets of London were weirdly quiet. Usually, there were people out in the town that had been roaming about, and either causing a ruckus or doing...

I slide the bag across the table where the hooded figure across from me peers inside. The shadows cover his face, but I can hear the surprise in his voice. "Where the hell did you find this?!" "Does it matter?" "... yes" came the answer.

I pause. Since when did he care about where or how I procure my goods? There's a reason I work with him almost exclusively, and it isn't his charming personality...

“Where do you think I found it, you fool.” I couldn’t believe the audacity of such a question. Did he really think that I could be so stupid?

“I know where you found it, but I don’t like it. This is how people get into trouble,” he sneered. The momentary look of shock was now firmly off his face. All I could think of was the last 24 hours.

How could I have landed myself here. I’m a straight, n...