Case - 1 : Confused.

My eyes fluttered around in the dark.

'Who could it be and why?'

'The only people alive and directly related to the case, at least for now, are A.V, K.M, Vera, and Revanche.'

'A.V and K.M seem to be the least suspicious. So that leaves Vera and Revanche.'

'Vera could be involved, but…from our conversation it seems like she's drowning in misery still. There was no 'relief' in her eyes about Neuinio's death, although they held a deep sense of hatred towards him even after he died. So she either didn't kill him or is a great actress.'

'Revanche then?'

'But how would he impersonate the wavelengths of A.V and K.M?'

Wavelength IDs were calculated on the fly using the combination of all the biological sounds the body produced along with the sound of the machines or prosthetics attached to the person.

Which meant that it was nearly impossible for a machine to mistake two different wavelength IDs.

But, and this was a big but, only as long as one compared either a clean body and one that had prosthetics or vice versa. Meaning it could still be confused in between two people without prosthetics or two people without prosthetics, unless a deep scan was performed to reduce any chances of manipulation.

AI algorithms to fake people's wavelength ID's did exist to modify them by emitting multiple other frequencies to make the machine that measured and calculated the ID to be thrown off, and was popularly used by a lot of thugs to impersonate other people.

But the catch was, none of the algorithms could ever impersonate biological perfection and neither could the wavelength of a biologically perfect or a clean body be replicated using algorithms to modify an existing person's wavelength.

'So Revanche could not be the killer in any way because A.V and K.M's wavelength IDs were recorded at the scene.'

'Perhaps the two were just lying?'

'No probably not. Not after they showed me their own positions throughout the day captured by their own deep network.'

'So who is it?'

'Vera?'

'Perhaps she hired a hitman?'

'Possible, but the police 'hidden' network scrapper would've picked up on the possible target before the assassination would've even happened.'

'And I don't think she forked out massive amounts of money just to have him killed. She's probably already tight on money and needs Revache's help just to survive.'

My eyes opened as I spotted the receptionist holding her face and having slept leaving on her hands so as to not damage her dress which she probably only had one off and needed to remain perfect once she left the room.

'Hmm….murder…maybe either Vera or Recanche ordered a hit personally by using a place like this?'

'But Vera wouldn't know about such a place. Revanche? No. Maybe from his wife, but even that's a little bit too far. Why would a seemingly normal banker have relations with the underworld.'

'Weird. Weird. Weird.'

The lady woke up and looked at me a little startled after probably noticing my intense stare on the back of her neck and now into her eyes as she uncomfortably tried to move a little under my piercing gaze.

"Do you want to….?" The lady asked again as she touched her clothes, while I remained motionless as I just watched her clench her skirt tighter and tighter.

'Hidden.'

'Something is hidden.'

'No. Something is being hidden.'

'But what?'

'Why is Vera helping the killer?'

'Maybe because she has a relational dependence on him like Revanche? Or because she's just unbothered about it?'

The dark pupils of the lady in front kept drawing me deeper and deeper in a well of questions until she finally blinked.

The blink made an audible clinking sound in my mind, in my imagination, and broke my attention as I looked back at the scene in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked the lady in front of me, looking confused.

Her hands relaxed as she just continued to stare at me, after which she broke in to a soft smile like she had just seen something funny in the growing bore and torture of her daily job.

She shook her head and spoke with the same genuine expression I had just seen on her for the first time.

"Nothing. You just reminded me of something."

"Oh? Of what?" I asked, a little curious. 'What could I remind her of in this wretched place?'

"I'm sorry if this might be a bit rude, but of androids. You're sort of like it. I can never guess your intentions right away."

"Oh. That is rude."

"I'm sorry! It's just you! You have this intense look on your face all the time that feels more like a mirror to your mind than to your surroundings. "

"Huh? Isn't that normal? Aren't people usually like that? Isn't it said that eyes are a mirror to the soul?"

"Yes. But in this place. Here. Here is it more like 'Eyes are a mirror of how much you value the souls you see through them.'"

"Ah. I'm sorry."

"No, that's alright. It's nice to know that there's a world out there too." The woman whispered.

An awkward silence lingered in the air after that statement, to which I had no response, so I just closed my eyes to avoid making any further conversation. But given her gaze that I could feel was looking at me intensely like it was studying an exotic creature made me feel out of place and forced to speak up.

Keeping my eyes closed, I asked her a question to distract her from staring at me, "Mother?" I asked, even though she clearly didn't look a day older than twenty-three.

She didn't respond for a while until she spoke in a somber tone, "No."

But before I could carry the conversation ahead, she continued.

"They died."

"...oh." I mumbled.

'Jeez, great question. Whoever said 'the worst she can say is a no' is clearly a liar!'

"I'm sor-"

"That's alright." She interrupted me.

Another awkward silence took hold of the room as I heard her comfortable breathing mix in with the faint occasional sounds of the jingle of coins in far away rooms.

"You got any smarts?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be here." She responded.

"True."

"Rude much mister?" she quipped.

"I have a job for you." I said, ignoring her quipping.

"Oh! You're finally going to use me!" She obviously joked, but the nerves on my forehead still twitched.

".....find me a private transport vehicle that will take me to any place I want for the next few hours."

"....I can't leave my post…."

"Oh right…."

"Are you leaving right now?" She asked, I could feel some apprehension in her voice, 'I would be tense too, a seemingly nice person leaving me after giving me a break from a monotonous daily job where I had to smile at everyone all day.'

"No."

I felt her gaze continue to impress upon me, as if urging me to continue, her excitement returning.

"I still haven't solved the case."

"Case?"

"I'm the police."

"Oh." She spoke sounding disappointed for some reas-

"Hey! I'm not that kind of a person!" I shouted out loud, opening my eyes and snapping my head in her direction to look directly into her eyes.

"Says the person sitting in a private booth with a beautiful lady sent to him." She stated back.

"I'm just…"

"Just?"

"Not sure if I should be telling you this."

"Secrets are a part of this line of work." she responded, clearly interested, leaning forward and scooting over a little closer.

'Was she sent to gain information from me? No, she's too interested. Almost a child like curiosity. Why, though? Ah…it must be her only source of entertainment.'

"A murder. A banker was murdered."

"Hmm…ones in Suimanto?" She asked.

"Yes. A man name Neuinio Waltinger."

"Mr. Waltinger?" She asked, her eyes widened a little from a surprised recognition.

"You know him?" I asked while looking at her.

Her eyes filled with some sense of disgust and reluctance, but she spoke anyway. "I was a regular."

I paused the conversation to give her time to adjust, while I just closed my eyes and continued contemplating about the case once again.

After a while I felt her get up and move to my side of the sofa and sit beside me as she whispered, "Feel disgusted knowing that I am a used product?"

I glanced at her and saw amusement in her eyes, yet there simultaneously existed a layer of unhinged sorrow among them, but I ignored both and continued.

"So he was killed on paper by two thugs. Alternative Violence and Killing Machine."

"On paper?" She asked.

"Yes. I think the real killer or killers spoofed their Wavelength IDs to forge the evidence. Too many reasons to believe so, there was no gang sign present at the scene and the thugs didn't really have a motive to even do so."

"Do you need to find the killers then? Isn't everyone benefiting from this? Two thugs get sent off the street and that disgusting freak is dead? Whoever did this did a service to humanity!"

"No. You cannot just kill people as you wish and not expect to face the consequences. Society doesn't run like this. People can have prejudices and pre disposed biases."

The woman looked at me curiously so I explained it to er in a way she'd understand.

"How many people would allow you to sit and speak with them in such an equal manner?" I asked as I watched her face turn into a frown and her eyes a little angry.

She tried getting up but I pushed her back and spoke, "I'm not telling you I'm one. I'm asking you. Biases remember? That's why we have state sponsored lawyers for criminals. Even the police could be wrong. People cannot be judged so easily. At least not in view of the society at large."

"But I knew Waltinger! He was a crazy man!"

"True. But not everyone out there does. To them, he was just a banker. And if they think you can get away with killing a 'simple banker'. You can imagine how many people will use the cover of injustice or hatred to kill someone or get them killed and get away with it. It's not like only bad people are hated by others. Sometimes even good people are hated by a majority just because they are different."

With an audible sigh, the woman relaxed as my brain went into overdrive in the resulting silence.

'What connects all of this?'

'Is there even a connection in all of this?'

"Do you know anyone named Revanche?" I asked her, hoping for some miraculous connection again. 'Wasn't this how it worked in the movies?'

"....not that it comes to my mind…" She said.

'Well, that was a bust. I guess my life story is never going to be turned into a movie.'

'How would a living person pretend to be a machine? How would they copy the wavelength of a different person with prosthetics without having any themselves.'

"Do you know anything more about Waltinger?"

"Well…other than his preferences….not much else really."

"Did he come here with anyone else?" I asked for no reason other than to know more.

"Not always, but a while back he came here along with a different woman, but she didn't come here after the first time, even alone by herself."

"Oh?" Interested to know more about this new woman, I asked her, "Was she worried about being here? Like being forced or something?"

"No. Not really. Although she did sound a bit confused about everything, but that's normal for people that arrive here for their first time." she explained.

"Hmm…..did she have light brown hair, hazel brown eyes and simple face?"

"Erm….I think so….I'm not sure, but I do remember her having brown hair."

"Shit." My eyes widened as I cursed out loud inadvertently.

*SLAP* *SLAP* 

I slapped my both my cheeks as the lady in front of me watched me weirdly and questioningly while I cursed at myself inside my mind.

'How could you be so stupid!'

'It was so obvious!'

'Why didn't I just segregate the evidence in the first place!'

'Damn, my brain has become so slow after drinking it to death for two years.'

'Damn it!'

'Fool!'

'I'm a fool!'

I stood up and was about to leave when I turned to look at the woman beside me.

"Oh! You're leaving?" I watched her eyes shift through a variety of emotions ranging from sorrow to despair to the same emotionless perfected plastic smile that she had on her face when she first greeted me at the counter.

"I hope I can see.- I mean. Have a nice day, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you. We hope you can visit to use our services again." She said, as she stood up and bowed a little, waiting for me to leave.

"Huh? What are you doing? I can't leave without you. You're my ride out of this place! Get your ass moving!"

Her eyes widened as light returned to them, but they flickered out immediately after she spoke, "I'm sorry sir, I can't leave the premises."

"I don't care if you can. No one will stop you as long as you're with me. I'd like to see them try." I said in a sharp tone and continued walking without waiting for her outwardly.

But inside I paid keen attention to any sounds behind me and relaxed fully only when I heard the clicking sound of her heels, steady and practiced at first to unsteady and faltering, until they reached beside me and turned scared and timid but steady and synced at the same time.

"To the city." I said in a commanding manner.

"To the city." She said, with a suppressed sense of joy and happiness.