"Sir, maybe we should come back another day? She was sedated. Aren't we just wasting our time here?" A man in his twenties wearing a blue denim jacket and tight pants, asked the person beside him. His name was Ian Merlin, a younger detective working for the bureau.
"I told them to inform us as soon as she wakes up," Ian added, looking at the man whose eyes weren't leaving the unconscious lady on the bed.
The man slightly cocked his head, his neatly combed slicked back hair barely moving as he turned to his junior. "Have someone monitor her closely. We can't let her kill herself."
His baritone voice sounded like it came from the depths of the sea, giving off a frightening and chilling aura to the listener, paired with his icy and scrutinizing gaze.