Crazy Detective: I Have The System To Change The World.

Kai sat in the cold, sterile interrogation room, his wrists cuffed to the table. The fluorescent light overhead buzzed faintly, casting harsh shadows across his face. His mind raced, trying to piece together how things had spiraled so quickly.

"Why the hell am I here? What do they think I've done?"

However he remained calm the system hadn't said anything of give him any mission, so for now he's on his own and he's going to get out of this quickly.

At that moment the metallic clang of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts.

A man in a dark suit stepped in, his expression unreadable. He carried a slim folder under his arm and moved with the precision of someone who didn't waste time. Kai's eyes narrowed as he followed the man's movements, his gut twisting with unease.

"Finally," Kai said, his voice steady but laced with irritation.

"Care to tell me what this is about? Why was I arrested?"

The man pulled out a chair and sat down, placing the folder on the table with a deliberate thud.

"Kai," he began, his tone calm but firm, "we have every reason to believe you were involved in the deaths of your former partner and the man found at the warehouse."

Kai's jaw tightened, his heart pounding in his chest. "What?" he snapped, leaning forward. "That's insane. I wasn't involved—"

"Really?" the man interrupted, his tone sharp as he opened the folder and slid a photo across the table. "Then explain why your name keeps coming up. You disappear for weeks, and the next time anyone sees you, two people connected to you are dead. That doesn't sound like a coincidence, does it?"

Kai's eyes flicked to the photo, his stomach sinking as he recognized the scene. But he refused to let his expression betray him. "I survived being shot and left for dead by my so-called partner. I came back to do the right thing by reporting to my chief, and this is how you repay me? Dragging me in here on baseless accusations?"

The man leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and unyielding. "We'll see if they're baseless soon enough."

**

One Days ago.

the sun glinted off the courthouse steps as a man in a tailored navy-blue suit descended, his polished shoes clicking against the stone. His sharp jawline and perfectly combed hair complemented his air of confidence, drawing a few admiring glances from passersby. But his focus was elsewhere, his phone buzzing in his hand.

He glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly at the message.

[You have been requested.]

The words were vague, but they carried a weight he couldn't ignore. He paused at the edge of the sidewalk, scanning his surroundings with a practiced eye. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he adjusted his tie and made his way to his car, a sleek black sedan parked a short distance away. Sliding into the driver's seat, he pulled out a small piece of paper from the glove compartment, one that bore an address he'd memorized but never visited.

He started the engine, his mind racing as he navigated the city streets.

'Why now? he wondered. What do they want from me this time?'

The address led him to a nondescript building on the outskirts of town, its exterior plain and unremarkable. A single security guard stood at the entrance, his expression unreadable. The man stepped out of his car, smoothing the creases from his suit jacket before approaching.

"You're expected," the guard said, his tone clipped and professional. Without another word, he pulled out a blindfold.

The man hesitated for only a moment, his gaze locking with the guard's before he nodded.

"Fine," he said calmly, allowing the blindfold to be tied securely over his eyes. His pulse quickened as the world around him went dark, but he kept his composure.

He was led forward, the sound of heavy boots on concrete echoing in his ears as he stepped into the unknown.

However without being told he could tell the person he's about to meet is someone well connected.

Steve felt the firm grip of two women guiding him forward, their silence amplifying the steady rhythm of their footsteps. The blindfold blocked everything from view, leaving him to rely on his instincts. He could feel the coolness of the air change as they entered what seemed to be a larger room.

The women stopped and gently guided him into a chair. He adjusted himself, his back straight and hands resting lightly on his thighs, his tailored suit still pristine despite the mysterious atmosphere.

Before he could say a word, a deep, authoritative voice echoed through the room. It was calm but carried an undeniable weight, the kind that demanded attention.

"Steve,"

the voice began.

"The panel wants to rectify an issue that is currently rising in Mango State."

Steve lowered his head slightly, his demeanor respectful.

"Accepted, your honor," he said, his voice steady and unwavering.