Chapter 4: Accept Or Reject

I was sitting quietly on the couch, scrolling through my laptop that was resting on my lap. After solving the case and apprehending the suspect, I quickly returned to my condo because I was feeling hungry. However, my appetite suddenly disappeared. So, instead of going to eat, I decided to review the tasks that were uploaded on the organization's page.

Now, I'm trying to select a task that I can work on while I continue scrolling.

*Knock, knock, knock*

I wasn't sure if this day was fortunate or unfortunate for me. I logged out of the organization's page before shutting down my laptop.

Timidly, I opened the door without bothering to check who was knocking through the peephole.

"Good evening, Mr. Manson," there was nothing good about this evening. "May I invite you to join me for dinner tonight at a nearby restaurant?"

I nodded in reply and returned to the living room, leaving the door open.

"You can wait here in the living room, sir," I said as I retrieved my laptop and entered my room, while he sat down on the couch.

Placing the laptop on the study table, I put on my hoodie and grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet.

I returned to the living room, and when he saw me, he stood up and asked, "Shall we go?"

I nodded in response.

We sat quietly at a reserved table near the veranda of the restaurant.

The restaurant seemed small from the outside, but upon entering, one would discover its spacious interior, perfect for family gatherings, dates, or any occasion.

"Here's the menu, gentlemen," the waiter politely said, handing us the menus.

"You can choose whatever you like," he said while looking at the menu. "I'll take care of the bill." I simply nodded and quietly browsed through the options.

There were numerous dishes, but one dish, in particular, caught my attention. It was a dish I missed, my mother's favorite. I couldn't help but smile as memories of cooking it with her flooded my mind.

"Have you made your selection?"

"Yes, Inspector Gomez," I replied.

Indeed, it was Inspector Gomez, who handled the murder case near my condo, who had invited me to dinner. The question lingering in my mind was why.

"Waiter," he called out to the server attending to us.

"What would you like to order, gentlemen?" the waiter asked.

"I'll have the Carbonara and the Filipino dish adobo. And just orange juice for my beverage," I said as I placed my menu on the table.

"And for you, sir?" he asked Inspector Gomez.

"I'll have the pork steak and a glass of wine," he answered, also placing his menu on the table.

"Let me repeat your orders: one Carbonara, Filipino dish adobo, and pork steak. For beverages, orange juice and wine," the waiter said, confirming the details.

"Yes," we both confirmed.

"Please wait a few minutes for your orders," he said before collecting the menus and taking them to the counter.

"Why did you invite me to dinner, Inspector Gomez?" I asked, breaking the silence that surrounded us.

"I have a few questions for you and a proposal, if you don't mind."

I looked quietly out at the veranda, awaiting his response.

"I wanted to ask you, do you have any experience in closing a murder case?"

"None," I answered conservatively. It was my first time being involved in closing a murder case.

"How come?" he paused. "Aren't you a high school detective?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied curtly and coldly.

How does someone like me become a detective? Besides, it's not my thing to act like a detective; my interests lie in creating trouble, handling tasks, and devising villainous ideas and plans.

"I thought you were, given the way you deduce and point out the suspect," he said seriously. He placed his hand on the table, intertwining his fingers and resting his chin on them. "Nevertheless, you have potential to become a detective."

But I'm not interested, though. I still have plenty of things to do as Moriarty. My focus is on causing trouble, accomplishing tasks, and formulating villainous ideas and plans.

"Here's your order, gentlemen," the waiter said as he placed the meals on the table.

The silent atmosphere enveloped us once again as we quietly began to eat.

As I neared the end of my meal, he broke the silence with a question.

"Do you aspire to be a high school detective?"

"No," I replied, looking at him. He had already finished his meal, with his wine glass halfway empty.

He nodded in understanding.

"I will leave my calling card, just in case you change your mind," he said, sliding the card onto the table. Afterward, he stood up and went to settle the bill.

I continued eating my meal, unfazed.

As he walked past me, he tapped my shoulder and said, "Think it over. You possess the potential and skills. I'll be waiting for your answer, Mr. Manson."

I glanced at the card and pocketed it. After finishing my meal, I stood up, allowing the waiter to clear the table.

"Thank you, sir, and please come again," the waiter said. I nodded and exited the restaurant.

As I walked down the street towards the condo building, someone accidentally bumped into me.

"S-sorry," the voice stuttered. It sounded familiar. When I looked at the face, I realized why it was familiar—it was her.

"It's fine," I replied in a cold tone.

As she looked up at me, her face showed a mix of surprise and fear. Was I really that intimidating? Perhaps.

She almost stumbled as she lost her balance. Luckily, I caught her, holding onto her waist.

"How about you?" I asked.

"I-I'm o-okay. Thank you," she stammered, looking down. "S-sorry again." She removed my hand and distanced herself slightly.

I nodded, even though she wasn't looking at me. She continued to keep her gaze lowered. I sidestepped and said, "It's dark, be careful." After uttering those words, I resumed walking.

I was already inside the elevator when I realized the words I had said to her.

I shouldn't be that concerned, right?

Out of frustration, I messed up my hair. It was the first time I had shown any concern for someone else.

Then her flushed face flashed in my mind—the way she hurriedly entered the elevator after the case was closed, and how she appeared just moments ago.

Did I say something that made her blush?

Damn. Why am I even thinking about it?

Sighing, I entered my condo as soon as I reached my floor. I threw myself onto the couch. What's wrong with me?

While lost in my thoughts, my phone begins to ring. I pick it up and see my father's name on the screen. What does this guy want?

"What?" I ask in a bored tone.

["Tsk. I already provided your email and number to the university. They will contact you by phone or email regarding your schedule. Don't forget to get your uniform."]

"That's all?" I ask, uninterested.

["What more do you expect from me? Tsk. Don't forget my warning."]

"Yeah." I hang up the call.

As I reach into my pocket to retrieve my wallet, a card slips out and falls to the ground. When I pick it up, I realize it's the calling card from the Inspector.

I get up and head to my room to sleep. I place my keys, wallet, and the calling card on the study table. Before settling into bed, I take a quick shower.

I gazed at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the day. A murder case, a proposal from the Inspector, and this strange feeling within me.

I was on the verge of closing my eyes when it suddenly hit me. Dang! Did I forget something? I quickly got up and grabbed my laptop. I had forgotten to choose a task.

I sat on the bed and leaned my back against the headboard. I scrolled down to browse for available tasks, but unfortunately, the remaining tasks either weren't available in my location or had already been taken. I logged out. No task for me.

I set the laptop aside so I could finally rest.

I woke up at six am, intending to go to the university to collect my uniform. I prepared breakfast, consisting of fried eggs, bacon, and hotdogs. Along with it, I made a cup of mild hot chocolate, placing everything on a tray. My plan was to enjoy my breakfast on the wooden swing by the swimming pool, offering a splendid view for a pleasant morning.

I began eating, savoring the delicious meal while admiring the beautiful scenery.

Suddenly, my phone started ringing. I picked it up.

["Greetings, villain Moriarty," the voice on the other end said. However, I didn't bother to respond and continued eating my breakfast."]

["I have already sent the details. Everything is complete. Is there anything specific you want me to work on?"]

"None. I'll review it when I have some free time."

["Yes, Moriarty," came the response before the call ended.

I spent a little more time on the swing before returning to wash the dishes and prepare my clothes. Afterward, I took a shower.

I opted for a casual look, wearing joggers and an oversized white t-shirt. I let my hair blow naturally, giving it a messy style. I also put on my eyeglasses. Grabbing my keys and wallet, I made sure to lock my condo before heading out.

Once outside the building, I hailed a taxi.

"Where to, young man?" the driver asked as I got in.

"To Xavier University, please," I politely replied.

"Are you a transferee? Getting your uniform?" he asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. I nodded in response. "I'll drop you off at the gate near the dean's office."

"How many gates does the university have, sir?" I inquired.

"There are a total of four gates, young lady," he replied, focusing on the road ahead. "The main gate and three other gates."

"I'll drop you off at Gate 2. It's near the dean's office," he added.

After a few minutes, we arrived at the designated gate. "Feel free to ask around, young lady," he said.

"Thank you, sir."

After paying the fare, I walked straight to the guardhouse to seek directions.

"Can you please tell me where the dean's office is?" I asked the guard.

"Are you a transferee?" he inquired. I nodded in response. "Just go straight ahead. You'll pass by two buildings, then take a right turn. The dean's office is located there," he explained.

I entered the building and started walking. Thankfully, I didn't get lost since I have a tendency to do so. The university turned out to be larger than I had anticipated.

I passed by the two buildings and made a right turn. I continued walking until I finally reached the dean's office.

I knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice from inside said.

"Hello, ma'am," I greeted as I entered the office.

"Hello, mister. I'm the assistant, Ms. Smith," she introduced herself. "What can I do for you?"

"I would like to request my uniform and nameplate, ma'am," I replied.

"What's your name?" she asked, as she went to a cabinet.

"Hadeon Azazel Manson."

"You are Mr. Manson's only son?" she inquired.

I nodded.

"Here," she handed me a paper bag. "And your schedule will be sent to your email."

"Okay, ma'am. Thank you." I left the office and resumed walking. I was halfway down the hallway between the two buildings when I accidentally bumped into someone.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, while sitting and picking up her fallen belongings one by one.

Her voice. I shook my head and helped her gather her things. I was trying to forget...

"T-thank you." I could only manage to utter those words as we collected all her dropped items. When I looked at her face.

We both stood there as if waiting for something to happen.

"Are you okay?" I realized I had been staring at her for a minute already.

"Yes," I replied and started walking again. "And welcome." Even though she didn't have a chance to say thank you because I walked away quickly.

I increased my pace and left the university. I immediately hailed a cab.

As soon as one stopped in front of me, I got in.

"To the nearest mall," I said before the driver could ask.

I needed a distraction at that moment, so I dialed the usual number.

["Greetings-"]

"Skip the greeting," I interrupted. "Get information about Maria Clara's whereabouts or her task."

["I will send the information to your email as soon as I have it, Moriarty."]

I hung up after hearing that. Leaning my head against the window, I gazed at my surroundings.

Only Maria Clara could drive my curiosity and these unfamiliar feelings that were emerging towards the cleaner.

Should I accept or reject?

The proposal and these emotions intertwined.

What would I choose?

To be a detective while continuing my villainous acts or simply be a person engaging in villainous activities?

Should I suppress or embrace these feelings?

Accept or reject?