It was half past midnight right now. Who wouldn’t want to be in bed at a time like this (totally not gaming all night).

  Officer Roland was one of us. He so wanted to go back to his apartment and just curl up in bed and get buried under Chester, Happy, Luca... His dogs, by the way.

  So you bet your ass he was grumpy when he was marching towards the scene of the crime. Especially when he was used as a human crutch – literally.

  “Ma’am. Might I suggest you listen to the doctor’s good advice and stay the night at the hospital. It’s not like they’re going to charge you like a hotel! You still got a broken rib and a hairline fracture in your femur!”

  “Officer Roland, my mother was a nurse. She told me all sorts of stories. The last thing I want to do, is sleep in a hospital and relive those ghost stories. Now shut up and help me to the door. I swear, I see someone slacking off on duty!”

  Detective Fraulein so wanted to be in bed right now herself. But she knew, she would just end up tossing and turning in her bed, staring up at her popcorn ceiling until the crack of dawn. She can’t stop thinking about that sorry face that was locked up in the prison ward as we speak.

  Not to mention, the fight she had with a certain young master still got her blood boiling (totally not nerve shaken).

  “Officer Roland, can’t you hurry it up! Whoever the sucker is watching video on his phone is trying to hide!”

  “Ma’am! I’m a cop, not a care aide! I’m not paid to handle this kind of multi-tasking stress!”

  The detective and officer nearly bashed down the open door of the manor. This was enough to spook the guards on duty and stay the hell away from the chief investigator of this case. Detective Fraulein fumbled for her phone—only to remember she left it in the car in a hurry. So she stole Officer Roland’s standard issue flashlight to shine it around.

  “Who’s here!” She hollered, “Sound off!”

  “...Ma’am.” Officer Roland glanced left and right with his eyes, “I don’t see anyone. Are you sure—”

  “I’m half crippled, not blind! I am positive I saw someone moving INSIDE the manor! Split up and—OH SH—D-don’t split up. Stick together! That way!”

  “Aagh! D-did I ever tell you, oof, I was never a fan of three legged races—Uuugh!”

  Detective Fraulein and Officer Roland fumbled around in the door. Even with the beam of a light, it was barely enough to see where they were going without stubbing a big or pinky toe. So much cluttered in the way! As much as the detective wanted to kick it away like it was a pile of dead leaves, her professional side told her – NO!

  ...Meanwhile. There be itty bitty whispers in the dark somewhere.

  “Teacher. We aren’t rats, so why are we hiding from a broken cat? And under a table of all places! This shameful, most shameful!”

  “Sssssh. Kim, have you forgotten? You are not supposed to be here.”

  “I am fully aware, but what about yourself? You are a member of their forensic unit. You have perfectly good reason to come and go to the crime scene as you please.”

  “Yeah, sure. I tell her I suddenly got an epiphany in the shower, drove in the middle of the night, and meadered around the crime scene to try and prove my hypothesis.”

  “.......”

  “...No, Kim. That’s not going to work.”

  “Then I propose we a sort of ‘get help’ strategy.”

  “I don’t know what that is, but that sounds three times as worse!”

  Out of the blue, something bounces out of the shadows!

  “Heeeeeey! Fraulein! What a coincidence! You got an epiphany in the shower too!? Wow, great minds think alike!”

  “...Officer Roland. Hand me your gun.”

  Martial Kim tried not to face palm, but he did it anyway. Both hands. He truly thought his mentor had a brilliant plan to convince the detective nothing was at all suspicious. Perhaps, he overestimated his mentor’s intelligence.

  Fortunately, Prof. Stone was a natural born negotiator. Unfortunately, Detective Fraulein lived long enough to see through his bullshit.

  --- Oh Divine Match Maker in heaven. Did you tie their red strings of fate together out of love, or for the sake of satire? Shameful, most shameful.

  Martial Kim didn’t waste any time – apart from dropping a sigh – before he got to work and left his hiding spot. He wasn’t aiming for the door, not exactly the exit. Why would he run away from trouble, when he had every opportunity to explore the crime scene on his own?

  Not that he needed a flash light to find his way. With his Night Tiger Vision skill he tread about the scene as easy as day. Why, he could even tell where in the flooring had the weakest strength to avoid so much as a classic floor creak.

  --- This manor. This could have been a suitable summer villa for a duke or duchess of the Imperial family. The right amount of grandeur and class, balanced with a subtle after taste of home and comfort. But the victim, he ruined it all with all these tacky and gaudy things they call modern art. And these paintings...they’re hideous.

  Alas, curiosity got the better of Martial Kim. It was enough to distract him from creeping around in the dark, and openly approach someone to ask for questions to sate his thoughts. And although Martial Kim wasn’t a talented artist like the great scholars of the Jade Dynasty, he did know his way around appreciating fine art... So... he had no clue what the hell he was looking at.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  What better way to understand them, then to ask a ‘guide’ like in an art museum.

  “Officer Roland. Who exactly made all these paintings? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “Huh? Paintings? These are movie posters.”

  “...Movie...posters?”

  “Yeah. You know, art work used as promo or merchandise for films. Come on, Ma’am. I thought you would kn—KIM!?”

  The moment the detective and forensic chemist were locked into their tiny war in a pocket, the officer pretty much leaned against a table and closed off his ears with a fold of his arms. He knew, this was going to take hours before he gets to go home.

  For a second, he thought the fight was over – until he finally turned to see the young master standing right next to him.

  “Kim!? Wh-what are you doing here!? Of all places!?”

  “Is it not obvious? I am trying to to clear Keekee’s name. Come now, don’t give me that credulous look. We’ve worked together in previous cases, how is this any different?”

  “Because YOU are the ‘killer’s’ boyfriend! That’s what!”

  “Please. Do not refer to Keekee in such a manner!” Martial Kim huffed, only to choke when he remembered what was said, “B-boyfriend!? I-I am not her—Th-there is a complete misunderstanding. I care for her, but I am not—”

  “Quick! Get the hell out!” Officer Roland politely screeched under her breath, “You’re going to get us ALL into big trouble! No go out the front door, o-or I’ll arrest you.”

  “Hmmnnnnnnn.”

  “Don’t just smile and nod. It’s creepy! Wh-what are you waiting for!?”

  “Being a gentlemen and letting you make the first move...Arrest me.”

  “...On second thought, I-I forgot I was off duty so uh...yeah. Ahem.”

  What Officer Roland really meant to say was: Yeah, not in the mood to become a human accordion.

  In saying that, Martial Kim suddenly eased up, “Officer Roland. I would like to...erm...formally apologize.”

  The officer jumped at the tiny whisper. “Wh-whatever for, K-Kim?”

  “For breaking your leg, back when you raided Keekee’s cabin.”

  “...Oh that uh...yeah uh...Water under the bridge. You know...haha...”

  Oh man, never before has Officer Roland broke out into a sweat like this. It was like he just crawled out of a thunderstorm, drenches to the bone – and he was still indoors!

  “So.” The young master hummed, “No hard feelings?”

  “Kinda?”

  “Good! Now that thorn is plucked out of our hearts, I have a personal question.”

  “So long as you don’t give me a black eye again, suuuuure?”

  “The Director,” Martial Kim asked with a serious tone. “Was he a martial artist?”

  “Was he wut?” Officer Roland thought he got whiplash from that question. “Wh-what makes you ask that?”

  “Do you not see, the array of weaponry the Director has mounted upon his wall? If I had seen this earlier, I would have mistaken his manor for a dojo.”

  “Dojo? Huh?”

  Officer Roland squinted in the dark. Then he slapped his palm over his forehead, for forgetting he still had a phone to shed some light.

  Blades, a lot of them.

  They were all sitting upon different kinds of racks and mounted plaques of some kind. Not a single one were identical and came in all shapes, sizes, and styles. Katanas, Tanto, Rapier, Hook Claws, mace, head of a pole axe, to even a variety of revolvers and historical guns.

  “Oooooooooh. Kim. These aren’t real weapons. They’re movie props!”

  “P-Props? As in, for stage play? Are you sure? My gods. If you didn’t point that out, I would have mistaken this as weapons suitable for an Imperial Soldier.”

  “Nah, nah nah. All of these are like fake replicas. Made entirely out of wood, specialized foam, carbon cut outs, and all sorts of high end production materials.”

  “Even so, the realism is uncanny!”

  “Well, movie is all about mimicking reality. The more realistic your props are the more believable and engaging the film can be. Like, I am a BIG fan of practical effects and pyrotechnics. So seeing all of these is like me being a kid in a candy store. Sadly, due to budget and convenience everything has been invested in special visual effects and C.G.I.”

  “...C...G...I?”

  “Yeah.” Officer Roland nodded, then added. “You know, computer generated imagery? ...Uh, in a nut shell it’s all about adding things that aren’t physically possible, like dragons or mermaids. Or even removing things that we don’t want – say the random camera crew in the background and replace him with a wall or a 3D soldier.”

  “..................”

  “...Fancy movie stuff. Everyone does it.”

  Martial Kim was an intelligent man. But all that explanation just went right through one ear and tumbled out the other like oil. Computer generated? Things that are there and not there? Why does this reality boast such complicated matters like trophies!?

  “These props,” The young master changed the subject, to save face and not look dumb, “These are made of real metal, are they not? Wouldn’t this be dangerous to use in a stage oriented play?”

  Officer Roland shrugged, “Yeah. Well, a wooden sword can only go so far in realism until you bring the camera up for a close up shot right? And granted, the audience’s have high expectations. We can now spot a fake weapon from a real one. Some props are made of real metal, to make fight scenes more believable you know?”

  A worried expression crawled across the young master’s face.

  --- To think even in an era of peace and prosperity, citizens crave to witness violence from the comforts of their seats, like some sort of bloody tournament. How frightening, the taste of these ‘audience’...Actually come to think of it...

  “Officer Roland. Would these metal props be capable of killing someone?”

  “Eooooh...That...is a tough question.”

  The officer tapped a finger on his lips to help with his deep thinking, before he answered, “Technically any and all props follow a sort of safety standard. Accidents and mistakes are going to happen, no matter how well choreographed the fight scenes are, right? So most of the time any stunt weapons are made of foam that look like real swords, but one smack in your face and it’s like hitting you with a rubber glove.”

  “Rude.”

  “Shush—L-let me finish! As for metal props like a long sword or even a katana, those are usually dulled to avoid cutting skin and flesh with so much as a poke. Now, granted, it would take a considerable amount of force to cut through someone because, well, they’re heavy and thin enough to cut through someone’s hand if not careful.”

  “...............”

  “Kim? Why are you staring at me? Was it something I said?”

  “TEACHER!”

  Officer Roland ducked as if a bomb went off. He had two reasons for this reaction. One, he didn’t expect Martial Kim to switch from [conspiratory whispers] to [OMG LOUD]. Second, the officer felt an emotional bomb went off and he regret ever coming to the crime scene in the first place.

  “............KUNG FU BOY!? WH-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?”

  “No time to explain, Detective!” Martial Kim suddenly took the reigns of the situation, ignoring the hot glare he got from a certain someone. Instead he raced over to grab at his mentor by the pull of his sleeve, “Teacher. Do you have your forensic kit available? Rather, do you have that chest that can shine sunlight onto objects? Moo Vee Light, was it?”

  “KUNG FU BOY! DON’T IGNORE ME! EXPLAIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?--HEY, STONE, YOU GET BACK HERE! I STILL GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!!”

  Alas, as much as Detective Fraulein wished to regain control of this chaotic ship, her screams fell on deaf ears. Mostly because something was about to happen. That moment when you anticipate something is about to happen in a movie, and you can’t afford blinking or even chatting or else you miss the moment.

  Prof. Stone wasted no time to race between his car and back into the crime scene, hauling a portable U.V. light. After a quick set up, he started to flash the powerful blue tinted sun rays across the display of weaponry. With some excited points, some worried hollers, and disappointed groans.

  Then...Officer Roland started to have second thoughts, about coming to the crime scene in the middle of the night. Sleeping in bed and buried under his favourite dogs, would have wasted his chance to be part of a major discovery.

  “...Sir...Ma’am... Prop blood doesn’t usually glow like a rave party...right?”