Liam's Second Mistake

Joahna Moriarty arrived at the crime scene, her boots crunching softly on the gravel as she approached the alley. She pulled her coat tighter around her, not just to ward off the chill but to conceal the gun holstered beneath. The scene was eerily quiet, the usual hustle of New Albion's streets dampened by the presence of death.

She carefully drew her gun, holding it close as she surveyed the area. Her sharp eyes took in every detail: the blood splatters on the walls, the positioning of the bodies, and the subtle signs of a struggle. She crouched down beside the goblin kid's body that the orc had mentioned, noting the angle of the neck wound and the still-warm blood.

"Interesting," she muttered to herself, her mind already racing through possible scenarios.

As she moved further into the alley, she spotted the bodies of several demihumans. Their deaths were recent, the air still heavy with the metallic scent of blood. But something was off. She examined each body meticulously, her keen detective instincts on high alert. Each corpse was intact, not a single body part missing.

"This isn't right," Joahna whispered, her brow furrowing. She knew The Butcher's modus operandi well. He always took body parts from his kills. Most theorized that they were trophies but Joahna suspected something far more sinister; cannibalism. However, these bodies were untouched.

She straightened up, holstering her gun as she continued her examination. Her mind flashed back to countless other crime scenes, each one a grim puzzle left by The Butcher. He was methodical, almost ritualistic in his actions. This scene lacked his signature.

"Why leave these bodies intact?" she pondered aloud. "It doesn't fit."

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small magnifying glass, a habit inherited from her mentor. She examined the wounds more closely. The cuts were somewhat precise but lacked the brutal efficiency she associated with The Butcher.

"Sloppy," she muttered. "Amateurish, even."

Joahna's mind raced through possibilities. Was this a copycat? Someone trying to mimic The Butcher's style but failing to grasp the details? Or was it a diversion, meant to throw her off the trail?

She scanned the area once more, looking for any overlooked clues. Her eyes fell on a discarded piece of cloth, partially hidden beneath one of the bodies. She carefully retrieved it with a gloved hand, noting the unusual pattern and texture. It was high-quality fabric, not something commonly found in these parts of the city.

"A clue," she murmured, pocketing the fabric. "But what does it lead to?"

Joahna stood up, her thoughts already forming a complex web of deductions. She was certain now that The Butcher hadn't been here, at least not in the way she initially thought. This was someone else's work, someone who wanted her to believe The Butcher was involved.

"Who are you?" she asked the silent alley. "And what game are you playing?"

As she left the crime scene, Joahna knew she was getting closer to uncovering the truth. She had to stay vigilant, follow the clues, and trust her instincts. The Butcher was still out there, but so was this new player. And she intended to bring both to justice.

"Time to hunt," she said, her eyes narrowing with determination. "No more games."

Liam sat at a nearby café, nursing a cup of tea as he watched Joahna from a distance. He couldn't follow her after the alley without getting spotted—she was too sharp for that. But he didn't need to. She could handle the scene. He had used his unique skill, Appraisal, on her earlier. It allowed him to see others' status screens, and he could tell she was as incredible as she was in the novel.

Liam took a sip of his tea, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He had staged the murders at the factory, orchestrating everything through an assassin hired by Harold. Victor was too meticulous to leave any evidence behind, so Liam had to fabricate it for him. He knew that Joahna would quickly realize it was a copycat case, but that was the plan. A Butcher copycat would lure Victor out or force him to make a mistake, leading them to collide earlier than they otherwise might have.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

His gaze drifted over the bustling street, though his thoughts were miles away. "And now, Elise," he said softly, almost to himself.

Elise Dubois was a wildcard in his plans. Her sudden appearance had thrown things off balance. He needed to be careful, yet he couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of manipulating her too. He knew she could be a valuable asset or a dangerous adversary, depending on how he played his cards.

As he plotted his next move, he couldn't help but marvel at the intricacies of the game he was playing. The pieces were all moving into place, and he was ready to make his next move. The stakes were high, but the rewards were higher. And with Joahna unwittingly aiding him, he felt invincible.

"Soon." he said with a satisfied smirk.

Liam finished his tea, placed a few coins on the table, and stood up. His heart pounded with excitement. The next phase of his plan was about to begin, and he couldn't wait to see it unfold.

Back at the alley, a figure was watching Joahna from a high perch, hidden from view. It was Lucien. He observed her meticulous investigation with a growing sense of unease.

"She found us," he muttered under his breath.

Taking a careful look at the scene below, Lucien's keen eyes quickly pieced together what had transpired. This wasn't Victor's work—it was too sloppy, too blatant. Someone was trying to lure Victor out, using The Butcher's gruesome reputation to bait a trap.

"Things are getting dangerous," he whispered to himself, the weight of the realization sinking in.

He needed to act swiftly. As he melted back into the shadows, his mind raced with possibilities and countermeasures. Whoever was behind this was playing a deadly game, and Lucien knew they had to be ready for anything.