"Is this real, or am I dreaming?"
He froze, his mind wiped clean of any remaining sense of logic. That's what happens when a person encounters something beyond their understanding — the first instinct is denial, pretending it never existed in the first place.
"No… the bodies and the blood I'm standing on feel too real to be a dream," he finished.
"What do you mean, important?" Ross asked. The being had just revealed to him a piece — an object — in the machine that shaped the cycle of life. He had every right to be curious.
"That's a question for another day, isn't it?"SATORI shrugged, shutting it down before it even started.
"Besides, we have a deal to seal."
Ross nodded, giving him the go-ahead to continue.
"I will send you back to the world of the living. I'll even save you the trouble of reincarnating as a baby — you'll go straight back into your body, memory intact, exactly where you were," SATORI continued, speaking as though every power in existence was at his fingertips.
Ross's head lowered. Ironically, anyone else would be thrilled to hear they were being given a second chance at life. But deep in his mind, something gnawed at him — where his body was.
Gulliver City.
A fake elderly home serving as a front for the Turtle Companies.
Armed soldiers swarming the structure like bees protecting a hive, ready to kill anyone stepping into their radar. And Ross — with all the vital information he carried — wouldn't last a second.
That's when it hit him hard.
Even if he returned to the world of the living… he wouldn't survive. They'd kill him immediately.
"Don't worry about the soldiers," SATORI cut in, his voice suddenly cold — drenched in a peak of bloodlust. Ross felt it instantly, forcing him into a defensive stance, his body reacting with the same reflexes he'd honed as a martial artist.
"How did he know what I was—!"
"You're in my world, remember?" SATORI interrupted sharply.
"I can't send you back without something to protect yourself. With the enemies you're up against, you'd return here in no time — and that would be a waste of my time. Let me finish my proposal, and then you decide."
He continued.
"I will give you power — the kind you'll need to survive the situation you stumbled into, and the kind you'll use to reclaim your father's legacy."
Ross froze in awe.SATORI was offering him rebirth and power. It sounded too good to be true.
"So… what do you want in exchange?"
"Ahh…"
SATORI gasped in excitement, startling Ross. He lifted his head dramatically, staring into the sky drowned in endless darkness.
"What. I. Want…" he repeated slowly, as though savoring each word. His right arm lifted, pointing upward, then his head dropped suddenly back into place. If he was still wearing a mask, Ross would have sworn something in SATORI's presence had shifted — something he couldn't quite read, even with his skill at reading people.
"I want something from you," SATORI said at last.
Ross's ears sharpened instantly, alert like a trap waiting for the final trigger.
"Something I know you won't mind me taking…
Your face."
....
Grinstone Police Headquarters.
The building was bustling — officers working, shouting across desks stacked with files overflowing with criminal reports.
"Tell me when it happened!"
"Give me your phone's credentials!"
Customer service officers sat behind counters, talking rapidly as citizens reported their cases.
Detective Armstrong walked through the main office, a cup of coffee in hand identical to the one he'd carried earlier. His focus was straight on the Chief's executive office. After Cool Jack — the officer he'd just met — reported that Armstrong was coming to speak to the girl who had reported Mr. Felix's murder, and to listen to a copy of Mrs. Mutt's phone call, the Chief summoned him immediately. A rare move in their line of work.
His new colleagues turned their heads, curiosity sharp in their eyes as they watched him pass. Word spread fast — the new guy had been called to the Chief's office. It became the talk of the department, fueling jealousy in some and admiration in others.
Knock, knock.
"Get in."
Squeak.
Armstrong opened the door — only to see the chubby Chief hurriedly tossing a magazine full of naked women aside on the desk.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, Detective. Take a seat."
He pointed to the chair across from him.
Squeak.
Armstrong sat.
"I might be the hundredth person to tell you this, but I'll say it anyway — you're an exceptional detective."
Pride flickered across Armstrong's face. But he knew better than to lean into it. Praise always came before the bad part. So he stayed silent.
"It's good that you are… but there's a problem with people like you. You tend to look at things you're not supposed to."
The tension spiked instantly.
"Let me ask you something," the Chief continued. "Imagine you're a father with two kids and no job. No way to earn money. Then one day a stranger comes along and—without any strings attached—gives you money to start a business. He provides for everything else you need, too. Would you ever dare make him angry?"
"No, I wouldn't."
"Good. I knew you were a smart man."
He leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"The Mutts have helped this city — and the police — more than anyone. If she ever finds out that you're listening to her call like she's some serial killer, she might get the wrong idea."
Armstrong narrowed his eyes. The man in front of him was speaking in possibilities — dangerous ones.
"You can talk to the girl… but you won't get her phone call," the Chief finished, locking eyes with him like a teacher ensuring the student understood the lesson.
"Is that clear, Detective Gerald Armstrong?"
Armstrong froze for a second — but this wasn't his first time being benched by higher-ups. And if there was one thing he'd learned, it was this: stay quiet. Don't reveal your stance.
"Yes, sir."
The Chief smiled, satisfied.
"That's better. Now go — a new case just came in, and I saved it especially for you."
Armstrong stood.
"Okay. Thanks."
He turned toward the door.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" the Chief added.
Armstrong paused, looking back.
"Give my regards to your wife and the twins."
Armstrong's eyes widened. The words hit him like a threat disguised as a friendly gesture.
And yet… something in him sparked with excitement.
He was in an interesting situation.