Augustin leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes moving across the room.
"You all did pretty well," he said in a calm but approving tone. Then he turned slightly and gestured toward two men standing near the wall.
"Vaelor, you haven't met these two yet."
He pointed first to the man with striking green hair and sharp green eyes. He wore a yellowish coat that made him stand out even in the dim office light.
"This is Robert."
Then Augustin nodded toward the other man, who had slightly dark skin and a quiet, observant expression.
"And this is Jackson."
"They both work in the surveillance division," Augustin continued. "Their job is to spy, track movements, and gather information on people without being noticed."
Vaelor lowered his head respectfully. "Hello," he said, his voice firm but polite. Robert responded with a faint smirk, while Jackson simply gave a short nod, already analyzing Vaelor from head to toe.
The next day, Vaelor arrived at Eagle Eye headquarters early. The building felt heavier than usual. As he walked in, Truman approached him with a serious expression.
"There's a new case," Truman said.
Vaelor's eyes lit up with excitement—but the feeling quickly mixed with pressure. This time, he thought, I have to solve it on my own. Perun isn't here to back me up.
They headed straight to Augustin's office. Robert and Jackson were already there, standing silently beside the wall, like shadows waiting for orders.
Augustin stood up and began speaking without wasting time.
"There's a case assigned to this team," he said. "Four people have gone missing."
He placed four photographs on the table, one by one.
"First—Dr. Morris."
"Second—Helen."
"Third—Selena."
"And lastly—Kite Hetchman."
All of them leaned forward, their eyes fixed on the photographs. The silence in the room grew tense.
Truman broke it. "Sir, is there anything similar between them? Same workplace, friendship, or any kind of relationship?"
Augustin shook his head slowly. "On the surface, no. They all come from completely different backgrounds."
He pointed at the photos again.
"Dr. Morris is a psychiatric doctor."
"Helen is an artist—a painter who owns and displays his work publicly."
"Selena is a street girl."
"And Kite Hetchman…" Augustin paused. "He was a middle-aged man suffering from severe depression."
Vaelor frowned slightly, sensing something deeper.
"Kite was a patient of Dr. Morris," Augustin continued. "He also owned several art galleries, which kept him in regular contact with Helen. Selena was also connected to him through those circles."
Robert suddenly spoke up, breaking his usual silence.
"It's possible Kite's mental health issues triggered something. Maybe he planned this—kidnapped them, or worse."
Augustin nodded slowly. "That theory crossed our minds too. But here's the twist—Kite was the first one to disappear."
The room grew colder.
"When the police started investigating Kite's disappearance," Augustin said, "they discovered his connections to the other three. They questioned all of them. But within a week… all three vanished as well."
Augustin folded his arms.
"So yes," he concluded, "it is possible Kite was hiding somewhere and executing his plan. Or…" his eyes narrowed, "someone else is using Kite as a cover."
Augustin straightened his posture and said firmly,
"You all need to investigate where Kite disappeared."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"The last place he was seen was Hotel Doomer, room number 21."
Augustin reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick file, its edges worn from constant use. He placed it on the table.
"This contains every important document related to the case—addresses, relatives, known friends, and recent contacts."
He looked at the four of them one by one.
"You'll divide into two teams."
His finger pointed briefly.
"Robert and Jackson—you'll investigate Kite's home address and his relatives."
Then he turned toward the other pair.
"Truman and Vaelor—you'll go to Hotel Doomer."
"That's all," Augustin said. "You're dismissed."
As they turned to leave, Augustin returned to his chair, already buried in paperwork. The scratching sound of his pen filled the room as he began signing files, his expression unreadable.
Outside Eagle Eye headquarters, Truman stopped the group and took control. He handed a file to Robert and Jackson.
"This is Kite's personal file—home address and family details," Truman said. "You two handle that."
Robert slipped the file into his coat. "Understood."
Jackson gave a short nod, and the two of them walked off in the opposite direction, already discussing routes and surveillance angles.
Truman turned to Vaelor.
"You and I are heading to Hotel Doomer."
Vaelor took a deep breath. The case was officially in motion.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Perun was at Rumi's house. He had spent the entire day surrounded by her family and pretending everything was normal. Because of that, he hadn't found a single moment to check the purse he had taken from the masked man.
Later that afternoon, everyone gathered in the living room, watching a television show. The show followed a man living with a wealthy family, acting innocent and harmless, while secretly causing chaos—sprinkling itching powder on beds, adding excess salt to meals, and turning the household against itself.
Rumi, Melody, and the rest of the family were completely absorbed in the screen.
Perun glanced at the TV for a brief moment, but his mind drifted elsewhere.
Now, he thought.
Slowly, without drawing attention, he leaned back and carefully moved toward the hallway. He reached a quiet corner and pulled out the dark brown purse, its leather cracked and heavily worn from use.
He opened it.
Inside, there was a small pouch containing about $11.70, a few crumpled receipts, and several business cards such as vehicle rentals, clothing shops, and cheap service providers.
Then one card caught his eye.
Alpha Angel.
Perun's expression hardened.
There were also several motel bills—different locations, different dates.
"They really were worst," he muttered in his mind.
"But why… why do they have a card from my company?"
Before he could think further, a soft voice interrupted him.
Perun turned quickly. Melody was standing there. Her injuries looked better now but it's still visible, but healing.
Perun froze for a second. He wanted to ask her something about Alpha Angel, about the masked men but the words stuck in his throat.
"I… I just came to get some water," he said casually, sliding the purse back out of sight.
Melody smiled. "The kitchen's that way. I was going there too."
Perun nodded and followed her, his mind racing.