Arknight : The Rise of The Grand Detective

The art of misdirection, a magician's most cherished tool, is a delicate dance of diverting the gaze and the mind.

It is a craft that hinges upon the fragility of human attention—our minds, alas, can only hold so much at once.

With a flick of the wrist or a well-timed word, the magician commands the audience's focus, weaving an illusion so seamless that it defies reason.

Yet, it is not magic at all, but rather the exploitation of our natural limitations, a manipulation of perception itself.

Scammers, too, are practitioners of this art, though their stage is far less glamorous.

They probe and prod, testing the boundaries of trust, learning the contours of a person's mind.

To the untrained eye, the clues may seem scattered, even obvious, but the perpetrator's intent is clear: to divert, to distract, to deceive.

And yet, even the most skilled deceiver may falter, for no illusion is perfect.

"To execute such a grand misdirection,"

I mused, a faint smile playing upon my lips as I twirled a coin between my fingers,

"one must be meticulous. Every track must be covered, every detail accounted for. But alas, our dear magician has forgotten one crucial thing."

I paused, letting the weight of my words settle.

"They neglected to thoroughly erase their past."

Ch'en's expression was grave, her brow furrowed in thought.

As she considered the evidence before her, the pieces began to align, the truth emerging like a figure from the mist.

I watched her with a quiet satisfaction, grateful for the rare opportunity to not only stand in her presence but to collaborate with her.

She was a force of nature, her blade was sharper than anyone in LPD

The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until it was shattered by a soft knock at the door.

One of the investigators entered, bearing a stack of papers so voluminous it dwarfed the previous dossier.

It contained everything—every document, every record, from the earliest days of childhood to the present moment.

"Check their bank expenditures,"

I instructed, my voice calm but firm.

"Specifically, up to last year."

The investigator shot a quick look at Ch'en, who gave a short nod, like,

"Go ahead."

She quickly grabbed the papers that had the bank spending details of all the kidnapping victims.

She went through them carefully, but weirdly enough, the investigator didn't spot anything out of the ordinary.

Like, nothing seemed off at all.

I stopped twirling the coin, letting it clatter onto the desk.

My eyes scanned the bank expenditure papers spread out in front of me, each one belonging to a kidnapped victim. I zeroed in on the one I knew had to be our guy.

My finger tapped the page, and I slid it closer, pointing at a specific number.

"Look here," I said, leaning in so both Ch'en and the investigator could see.

"Xiaolan. Withdrew 500 thousand LMD cash. Through a loan."

Ch'en raised an eyebrow.

"So? Big cash withdrawals happen all the time. What's the deal?"

I smirked.

"Exactly. On the surface, it's nothing. But let's dig deeper."

I turned to the investigator.

"Pull up Xiaolan's family history. Trust me, it's worth it."

The investigator hesitated for a second but started searching for the paper and found it.

When the file finally appeared on the table, I exhaled, preparing to recount the details as though telling a grim tale.

"A year ago, Xiaolan's brother was kidnapped. The culprits? A gang. Their motive? Simple—debt. You see, their mother was a relentless gambler. Not just a casual one, mind you—she was utterly consumed by it. "

A sad reality that many faced.

"It reached the point where she severed ties with their father, leaving the children under her care. And then—just like that—she was gone. A cruel illness took her, but her debts? Oh no, those didn't vanish with her. Instead, they became an inherited burden, weighing down the children she left behind."

Ch'en frowned, arms crossed, her expression darkening.

"So, Xiaolan finds herself in dire straits—burdened with debt, her brother absent, and no one to turn to for assistance. What course of action does she take? Perhaps she considers a loan, hoping to navigate her way out of this predicament.

"But here's the crucial detail—500 thousand LMD? That isn't merely settling debts; that's a calculated decision. And I strongly suspect our culprit is well aware of precisely what that decision entails."

Ch'en and the investigator finally understood why the attack happened after they realised what was going on.

"She did the only thing left to her—the one desperate gamble that could save both her brother and herself

"She went for it—a heist," I said plainly, letting the words settle like the first drops of rain before a storm.

Xiaolan had weighed up every last detail, turned over every possibility, and still landed on the same conclusion: if she wanted to save her brother, this was the only way.

Besides that there was only one place she could place the kidnapped victims.

No way are the kidnapped victim at her house!

Ch'en's eyes darkened as she pieced it together, her instincts kicking in like clockwork.

Without missing a beat, she snapped orders at the special forces, her voice slicing clean through the tension.

The investigator fed her the address, and within seconds, they moved—quick, precise, like a well-oiled machine—leaving me standing in the dim glow of the streetlamp.

Alone now, I turned and set off in the opposite direction, my footsteps tapping lightly against the rain-slick pavement.

There were two things I'd conveniently left out.

One: half the money Xiaolan had thrown down wasn't just for escape—it was for a Sarkaz caster for the explosion.

The lingering traces left could only be done by them. A force powerful enough to shatter the vault like a stone.

As for the rest? Only one thing can be used by a victim who has little left too loose.

I already knew where she was really headed—something Ch'en and her people had missed in their rush.

I struck a match, shielding the tiny flame against the drizzle before lighting my cigarette.

A deep inhale, the burn settling in my chest. As the smoke coiled into the damp night.

I slipped into the nightfall's embrace, vanishing into the shifting shadows of the rain