My English teacher suggested that to improve my English, I should practice writing.
That’s why I’ve decided to write my novel in English as a form of self-training.
Since my country has strict content regulations for novels, writing in English allows me to tell my story more freely.
I’d greatly appreciate any feedback or comments from you all they’ll help me improve.
This being my first webnovel, I’m definitely going to make some rookie mistakes.
The phone at the West Glass Tower police station rang in the middle of the night, its sharp tone cutting through the silence like a blade.
A man’s trembling, broken voice came from the other end of the line.
“I… I’ve just seen a body… a man… at the construction site in the south, near South Laster Technical University… Please… come quickly…”
The dispatcher tried to ask for more details, but all he heard was ragged breathing then the call suddenly went dead.
The system report showed the call had come from a public phone booth less than a few hundred meters from the scene.
That detail alone was enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.
Chief Modric stood by the window of his office, his silver-white hair lit by the dim neon light.
At fifty-nine, with only a few months left until retirement, he had believed he would end his career in peace.
Yet here he was, facing the worst nightmare Glass Tower had ever seen.
He raised a cigarette to his lips, drew in a long breath, and slowly exhaled the smoke out into the pitch-black night beyond the window.
If the victim this time was another male student… then this would be the twelfth case.
Twelve cases in three months.
They had only publicly announced five of them, to preserve the city’s fragile peace.
But the entire team knew the truth was far more terrifying.
If the real number ever leaked, public opinion would explode.
The press would tear the police force apart.
And the man who was about to retire would be dragged down into the abyss along with everyone else.
Please… don’t let it be that unlucky.
Please… don’t let it be another male student.
He rubbed his forehead, his voice dropping like a grim decree: “Team A, move out immediately.
Forensics goes with you.
Seal off the entire area.”
Police sirens screamed into the night, tearing through the darkness as the cars raced toward the abandoned construction site.
At the scene, the body lay cold and motionless.
The face was so badly mutilated that even the most seasoned forensic officers had to look away and swallow hard.
A torn backpack lay nearby.
A student ID card was scattered in a pool of blood.
Everything pointed to the same unavoidable conclusion.
A male student.
South Laster Technical University.
And on the victim’s neck, carved deep, was the familiar mark: a heart crossed out.
The heart drawn in red ink, the slash made by a blade.
Everyone in the investigation team felt a chill run down their spines.
Mariana, leader of Team A, stood still in the cold wind.
Her messy brown hair fluttered in the night, her hazel eyes reflecting the flashing lights of the police cars.
This was already the fifth case her team had taken on in this series of crimes.
Five cases made public.
The others… they all knew about them.
If they didn’t stop the killer, he would continue.
Continue murdering young men.
Continue carving that deadly mark into their flesh.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, trying to suppress the rising tide of helplessness that threatened to swallow her.
Back at the station, Mariana knocked on the chief’s door.
“Sir, it’s Mariana.
I need to talk to you.”
“Come in.”
Modric sat behind his desk, the cigarette in his hand burned almost to the filter.
He took one last drag, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and leaned back in his chair.
His eyes looked exhausted, as if they carried the weight of many years spent staring into the darkness of human nature.
Mariana stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
She couldn’t hide the despair in her gaze.
“Sir… we need to contact White again.”
Modric frowned slightly, as if the name itself was an old wound that had just been reopened.
“The ‘Rose Butcher’ case from two years ago… you still remember it, don’t you?
The string of murders targeting female students that terrorized the entire city.
When every lead had gone cold, only White recognized Kyliam’s pattern of killing.
She was the one who saved the final victims.”
This was already the fifth case her team had taken on in this series of crimes.
Five cases made public.
The others… they all knew about them.
If they didn’t stop the killer, he would continue.
Continue murdering young men.
Continue carving that deadly mark into their flesh.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, trying to suppress the rising tide of helplessness that threatened to swallow her.
Back at the station, Mariana knocked on the chief’s door.
“Sir, it’s Mariana.
I need to talk to you.”
“Come in.”
Modric sat behind his desk, the cigarette in his hand burned almost to the filter.
He took one last drag, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and leaned back in his chair.
His eyes looked exhausted, as if they carried the weight of twenty years spent staring into the darkness of human nature.
Mariana stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
She couldn’t hide the despair in her gaze.
“Sir… we need to contact White again.”
Modric frowned slightly, as if the name itself was an old wound that had just been reopened.
“The ‘Rose Butcher’ case from two years ago… you still remember it, don’t you?
The string of murders targeting female students that terrorized the entire city.
When every lead had gone cold, only White recognized Kyliam’s pattern of killing.
She was the one who saved the final victims.”
She paused, her voice stretched tight like a string about to snap.
“The crossed-out heart marked on the male students’ bodies this time… it can’t be a coincidence.
If we don’t find the killer soon, we’ll be drowned by public outrage, by the victims’ families, by our own helplessness.”
Modric crossed his arms and let out a heavy sigh.
“That kid won’t help, Mariana.
Last time she only acted because Kyliam kidnapped her best friend.
I’ve gone to see her twice already.
Both times her older brother politely showed me the door.”
He stopped, his gaze drifting into the past, his voice dropping low as if whispering to the darkness.
“That night… when we burst in, Kyliam was lying there, blood everywhere, one arm severed.
White stood beside him, calmly stopping the bleeding, not a single scratch on her.
The entire department knew what had happened.
We covered it up in silence.
Kyliam screamed, accusing a girl of cutting off his arm… but no one dared to testify.
He was executed.
And White… remained free.
A genius.
But also a cold, sharp blade.”
Mariana clenched her fists, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
“That’s exactly why… that girl is our only hope.”
Modric looked at her for a long time.
In his eyes flickered a thin, fragile spark of hope weak as a candle flame against a storm.
Then he slowly nodded.
He wrote White’s home address on a small piece of paper and pushed it across the desk.
“Go.
But don’t expect too much.
Unless someone close to her gets dragged into this case… White won’t care.”
Mariana took the paper, her fingers trembling slightly.
In the silence of the room, that name echoed softly.
The next afternoon.
Mariana drove according to the directions on Google Maps, passing through streets that grew quieter and quieter, until she entered the exclusive district reserved for Glass Tower’s elite.
district of Glass Tower.
Before her eyes, the mansion appeared like an ancient fortress rising in the middle of the modern world imposing, majestic, surrounded by high walls thickly covered in green ivy, as if hiding secrets no one was meant to see.
The metal gate stood over three meters tall, covered in intricate carved patterns that glittered under the late afternoon sun.
A vast garden stretched out beyond it, a polished stone path leading between two rows of deep-red roses in full bloom, like a miniature royal garden.
The front courtyard alone was large enough to park a dozen luxury cars.
Mariana stopped the car and took a deep breath to steady herself.
She pressed the doorbell.
The electronic screen beside the gate lit up, revealing a young woman with long, glossy sea-blue hair and sharp sapphire eyes as cold as a blade.
She wore a pristine white shirt with a high silver-trimmed collar, a short cravat fastened with a glittering gemstone, and a knee-length black dress that hugged her figure.
In one hand she held the latest smartphone; her nails, painted the same sea-blue as her hair, completed the flawless look.
“I’m Tina, the nanny and housekeeper,” the girl’s voice came through the speaker, as chilly as a winter wind.
“Mr.
and Mrs.
are not home at the moment.
If you wish to see them, please come back later.”
Mariana kept her tone calm and held her police badge up to the camera.
“I’m Mariana, Team A of the Major Crimes Division, Glass Tower Police Headquarters.
Is the young lady at home, Tina?”
Tina gave an indifferent shrug, as if the matter had nothing to do with her.
“The young lady is upstairs playing games.
I’ll transfer the connection to her smartphone.”
The screen switched abruptly.
Now it showed the view from White’s phone.
She was sitting in front of three large computer monitors, her fingers flying across the keyboard in a high-stakes game so intense it was almost breathless.
Her ash-gray eyes were cold and distant.
Her long black hair was neatly pinned back on both sides with delicate clips, revealing a refined face.
It was completely different from the image she had presented at the police station earlier softly wavy black hair left loose, with bangs that partially veiled her eyes, paired with blue irises and glasses that gave her a gentler, more approachable appearance.
Mariana held up her police badge again, trying to keep her tone friendly despite the heavy atmosphere.
“Hello.
I’m Mariana, Team A of the Major Crimes Division, Glass Tower Police Headquarters.
Are you Detective White?”
White didn’t look up.
Her eyes remained fixed on the screen as she answered flatly:
“No.”
Mariana gave a small smile, even though she knew the other girl couldn’t see it.
“You look so different from when you were at the station that I didn’t recognize you right away… but that voice.
It’s definitely you.”
White paused for a brief second, then continued typing, her voice laced with boredom.
“You look vaguely familiar.
Let me guess the police are helpless again, can’t find the killer in this school murder case that’s blowing up in the media, so you’ve come running here to beg for my help.
Am I right?”
Her words cut like a knife, making Mariana swallow hard.
She had guessed everything perfectly not a single detail wrong.
Mariana forced herself to keep smiling, her voice softening:
“You’re right.
We need your help.
I really hope you’ll work with us again.”
White cut her off without the slightest hesitation: “No!”
The screen went dark at once, as if the conversation had never happened.
Mariana didn’t give up.
She pressed the doorbell repeatedly, the continuous ding-dong echoing through the system.
White’s smartphone vibrated violently, shattering her concentration.
Irritated beyond measure, White reappeared on the screen, her ash-gray eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“Stop ringing!
It’s too noisy!
What do you want?”
Mariana replied, her tone half-playful, half-genuine, laced with real exhaustion: “My legs are getting tired from standing.
Would you let me in so we can talk?
Once we’re done, I’ll leave right away.”
The heavy iron gate slowly swung open, the scrape of metal against metal sounding like a quiet warning.
Mariana drove into the courtyard and parked in front of the polished granite steps.
As she stepped out, the evening breeze drifted through the rows of deep-red roses, carrying a sweet fragrance mixed with an inexplicable chill.
The front door opened.
Tina bowed her head in polite greeting, then stepped back like a silent, invisible shadow.
From the spiral staircase inside the grand hall, a tall figure slowly descended.
Long black hair fell naturally around her shoulders, a few strands loosely framing her forehead.
Her ash-gray eyes held not the slightest flicker of emotion like two frozen lakes in the depths of a harsh winter.