She was wearing an oversized, loose pink pajama set covered in silly cartoon rabbits, her phone still clutched tightly in her hand as if it were an inseparable part of her body.
Her steps were light, yet every movement radiated clear indifference as though she had only come downstairs to get rid of the unwelcome guest as quickly as possible.
White dropped onto the sofa across from Mariana, crossed her legs, and let her indifferent gaze slide over the uninvited visitor.
Mariana didn’t waste time.
She drew a deep breath, her voice urgent in the vast room:
“You know about the school murder series case that’s spreading across the city, right?
Every suspect has a perfect alibi there isn’t a single gap.
This killer… might be a true psychopath, just like Kyliam in the ‘Rose Butcher’ case back then.”
“You’re the only one who has ever faced and taken down someone like that.
We… need you, White.”
White sat there, her ash-gray eyes completely devoid of emotion.
She merely tilted her head slightly, as if listening to a story that had nothing to do with her.
“As you said, the killer is a psychopath.” Her voice was light, almost a whisper.
“What could a weak, delicate girl like me possibly do… right?”
In Mariana’s mind, a bitter smile flickered for a moment, but she forced it down.
Weak and delicate?
You’ve got to be kidding.
This girl had captured the notorious killer Kyliam leaving him with one arm severed, his body covered in deep bruises and scars, blood pooling across the floor while she herself walked away without a single scratch, not even a hair out of place.
How far was this act of false modesty going to go?
Even knowing White was deliberately playing the innocent, Mariana kept her voice gentle, her eyes filled with sincere plea:
“White, I understand you don’t like getting involved with the police.
But please… think about the victims’ families.
The pain they feel after losing those young men-boys who had only just begun their lives.
Only you can help us stop this killer.
Please… just work with us one more time.”
White curled her lip.
A fleeting, sarcastic smile appeared cold and thin as a blade.
“I don’t work at the police station, and I don’t get paid from taxpayers’ money.
What responsibility am I supposed to bear?
If you want results fast, why not just raise the reward for the private detective agencies?
Guaranteed you’ll have an answer in a few months.”
Mariana clenched her hands beneath her knees, nails digging painfully into her palms.
She forced herself to stay calm, but her voice grew heavier and more serious:
“White… there’s a new case every single week.
If this drags on for a few more months, the death toll won’t stop at twelve.
You can be indifferent to the police, but those lives… are you sure you want to stand on the sidelines?”
White gave a small shrug slight, yet cold enough to cut to the bone.
Her icy gray eyes slid over Mariana as if she were nothing more than a speck of dust that had accidentally drifted into the house.
“Sure.”
“So what?
Is that my problem?”
Her voice remained perfectly even, neither rising nor falling, yet every word landed like a cut.
“I’m not some detective from a manga, or a superhero from a comic book.
I don’t have the time to meddle in other people’s business.
You can see for yourself my brother doesn’t like me getting involved in things like this in the slightest.
“Here’s my sincere advice: go home.
Read through the case files again.
Hire a few more competent private detectives.
The results will come eventually.
“While you’re wasting your time here, the killer is probably already choosing his next victim… and planning his next case down to the last detail.”
Those words struck Mariana like a final knife driven straight into her chest.
She clenched her fists as anger and helplessness surged through her, yet she forced her voice to remain calm, though a trace of despair had begun to show in her eyes.
Images of blood-soaked crime scenes, disfigured faces, the cries of the victims’ families… they still haunted her every night.
But White’s indifference was like an impenetrable wall of ice cold, arrogant, and utterly untouchable.
Mariana let out a heavy sigh.
She slowly set the teacup down on the table; the soft click rang out in the stifling silence like a final, disappointed full stop.
“Thank you for the tea, White.
I’m sorry for troubling you.”
She stood and walked toward the door.
Each step felt weighted, as though she carried the lives still hanging by the thinnest of threads.
I’ll have to find another way, Mariana thought to herself as the villa door closed behind her.
The mechanical lock clicked shut dry, final like the last refusal of the darkness itself.
Outside, the afternoon breeze drifted through the roses, carrying their sweet fragrance… yet now it only made the heaviness in her chest settle deeper.