Jason shook his head once, pushing the last of the hallway noise behind him, and stepped into the office.
Detective Rivera sat behind a plain wooden desk near the window, pen moving steadily across a yellow legal pad. The late-afternoon light coming through the half-closed blinds cut the room into thin stripes of gold and shadow. Rivera looked to be in his mid-thirties~average height, average build, the kind of ordinary face that disappeared in a crowd. That low sense of presence was probably the man’s greatest professional asset. People underestimated him, and that made them careless.
Jason walked forward and took the chair opposite the desk without waiting to be invited. The leather was cracked and slightly warm from the sun.
"You’re Detective Rivera?"
Rivera glanced up. A polite, practiced smile touched his lips, the kind that never quite reached his eyes. "That’s right. And you are?"
"Jason Carter."
Rivera studied him for a longer second this time. Handsome, young, still carrying the look of a university student. A faint flicker of disappointment crossed the detective’s expression before he smoothed it away. Most kids Jason’s age couldn’t afford private investigation fees, and Rivera had clearly seen enough tire-kickers to recognize one on sight. Still, he kept his tone professional and even.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Carter?"
Jason reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and slid two photographs across the desk. The edges of the photos were slightly worn from being handled.
Rivera picked up the first one. It showed a younger Jason smiling brightly, almost naively, beside a young woman who looked irritated and impatient to be in the frame. The detective’s eyebrow lifted a fraction. He set the photo down carefully and examined the second one: a middle-aged, heavyset man with a thinning crown, a soft jawline, and a distinctly lecherous cast to his eyes.
"Care to explain the situation?" Rivera asked. He set the pen down, leaned slightly forward, and folded his hands. "We’re professionals here. Client confidentiality is absolute. We’ve handled sensitive matters for people with a lot more to lose than most."
Jason nodded, keeping his voice calm and measured even though something cold and hard sat just beneath the surface.
"The woman is my ex-girlfriend, Olivia . She’s a senior at State University, finance major. The man is her thesis supervisor, Professor Malcolm Whitlock."
He paused. The old anger rose for a moment~sharp, familiar~before he forced it back down. Olivia hadn’t started sleeping with the professor until months after they broke up. Technically she hadn’t cheated on him. That almost made it worse. She had taken fifty thousand dollars of his hard-earned savings, money that could have kept his mother from the edge of that rooftop. That was the unforgivable part.
Whether it was for Sarah’s sake or for the system’s mission reward, Olivia was going to pay a price.
Jason’s eyes stayed cold as he continued. That bitch had already ruined one version of his life. She wasn’t going to live the next one in comfort and peace. He wanted her looking over her shoulder for a long time.
"I have reliable information," he said, "that Olivia published at least two major research papers by sleeping with Professor Whitlock. I need proof of their private meetings and the academic misconduct~photos, messages, hotel records, anything solid enough to hold up."
Rivera began writing again, the pen scratching quietly against the legal pad. "I’ll need more than that if you want this done efficiently. Daily routine, places she frequents, anything you still remember about her habits."
Jason’s memory~sharpened and clarified by the rebirth~supplied the details without effort. It felt less like remembering and more like opening a book to the exact page he needed.
"She still lives in the senior dorms on the east side of campus. Most days her pattern is almost identical: dorm in the morning, library or coffee shop midday, then straight to Whitlock’s office in the business building in the afternoon. She goes to see him nearly every day. Sometimes she stays late."
Rivera nodded slowly, looking more engaged now. The disappointment from earlier had faded. "That’s useful. If the information checks out, we should be able to put usable evidence in your hands within three days. Our rates aren’t the cheapest, though. High-end work costs."
"Name the price."
Rivera cleared his throat lightly. "Five thousand total. Two thousand as a deposit up front. If we don’t deliver evidence you can actually use, the deposit is refunded in full."
Jason didn’t hesitate. "Done."
He already ran the numbers in his head while Rivera spoke. The system rewards from the last two days had left him with a comfortable buffer. Five thousand was nothing compared to the fifty thousand Olivia had stolen, and it was even less compared to the triple reward waiting once he recovered that money. Time was the real currency now. He still had the SwiftBite domain negotiation coming up, his mother’s medical bills sitting on the horizon, and the system mission ticking in the background.
Paying someone else to dig up the dirt was simply the fastest, cleanest path.
Jason stood, already reaching for his phone to arrange the transfer.
"I’ll send the deposit today. Start the moment the money clears."
Detective Rivera gave a short professional nod, the polite smile returning to his face.
"We’ll be in touch, Mr. Carter."
Jason turned and walked out of the office. The hallway felt cooler after the stagnant air of the room. Behind his eyes the cold focus settled deeper, sharper, more patient than before.
Olivia had no idea the clock on her comfortable little life had just started running.