A world-renowned detective wordly renowed as the ‘Detective of France’ was called upon a request to investigate into the inner workings of an island isolated from the rest of the world due to the death of one of their most important figures. Stuck in an island where distrust and unrest was air itself, The Detective of France himself, Jean, must investigate and get the truth of the death one of their most important figure which sets him off into a belly of chaos.
Targeted Age Group:: 16 and Above
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The anime, Moriarty the Patriot which basically in a way also a detective mystery show
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Well they are inspired from anime characters and perhaps other forms of fictional characters I've witnessed and liked.
The Partners in Crime
“I hope this friend of yours is as good as you say he is otherwise we’re wasting good time on a pointless detour,” Henrich sitting on a chair beside him with his back straight . Their subway train speeding along.
“When you see him, you’ll know why I brought him along. If this case of yours is as politically a big of a problem as you say it is, then we’ll need his skills into this. He’s an interesting man to bring around.” Jean gave him a smile as he sat with one hand over the other.
In his opinion, Henrich was just far too stiff about these things, but then given his position, what else could he be expected to be like?
“I think men like you should take the time to be a bit more relaxed about these things. Consider a hobby perhaps to past the time,” Jean gestured with his hand. “Perhaps something without so much stress on the mind.”
“A joke?” Henrich frowned at him.
Jean turned his head towards him. “I suppose humor is just not your way of dealing with your troubles.”
“Sorry for caring about someone else other than just my own pleasure,” Henrich sniffed. “I doubt anyone can be as carefree and self-driven as you.”
Jean smiled. Well most men are hardly me.
A loud thud echoed across the train. They both turned. A pair of young boys of sixteen or so stood and had cornered a frail old man dressed in a dirty old jacket scabbed with marks. One of the pair looked at him in disgust and snorted as if he was looking at an ugly dog.
I suppose this is a normal thing. Jean looked around towards all the other people in the train and not a single one moved at all. They just stared. Some looked disturbed but most just turned their faces away and ignored. So discrimination then is a normal.
It was just like Henrich had said to him. It was a power dynamic between those of higher social class and those beneath. And those boys must come from the fortunate ones. Jean narrowed his eyes. Maybe I’ll have a bit of fun here. He smirked and stood.
“I thought you’ll be jumping to defend that old man over there,” Jean glanced back again on the old man with one of the younger one shoved the weakly old man in the face, slamming against the train wall. Someone winced at the sight of it and turned away.
Henrich frowned up at him. “I told that this is how things are here. The less you pay attention to these things, the better it’ll be. Leave it and don’t tell me now you care about others.”
“No.” Jean eyed him. A boring reaction. “But you should and you do. You are a magister of this island. Show them proper behaviour. Doing nothing is not a mark of a leader or do you disagree.”
Henrich snapped his eyes up at him. “I said leave it so leave it already.”
“Oh no. That would be boring. If you’re not going to do anything then perhaps I will.” He turned and walked and favoured a glance over his shoulder towards Henrich’s darkened expression over his insolence.. Show me whether you’re just another wooden-headed observer or a man of action.
Henrich clenched his teeth with his hands clasped together. Another loud thud echoed again, and the pair of young men laughed it off as the old man fell onto the ground and groaned.
“Come on. We’re barely beginning here, you ugly old man. You think just because you’re all old and frail that you can just get off this easy without getting something worse for messing with my shoe the other day?” said the smaller of the pair of young men.
“Hold him. I think I’ve got something special for his ear to swell into so he’ll never forget this day,” the taller one grinned.
Jean narrowed his eyes. How vile. Is this how the upper class treats even the elderly too?
The smaller one hauled up the old man by the arms while his friend grinned and aimed to stuff his finger into his mouth before eventually stuffing it into the old man’s ear. The old man’s eyes slack and his mouth slightly opened.
“Enough,” Henrich stood and strode down the train towards them. People watched him as he passed by.
Jean smiled. Well. He stepped to one side and watched Henrich stomped by him with the same glaring expression but now it was aimed somewhere else.
“Huh? And who are you supposed to be? You have any idea who we are? Which family we belong to?” said the taller one, facing up to Henrich despite being just a sixteen year old facing off a twenty-five year old.
“Henrich. Henrich Wells. A member of the magisters, and you better remember that much because you’ll remember this day once I beat lessons into the both of you. Let him go.”
The smaller one looked to his friend who stood where he was and glared right at Henrich. Henrich stood his ground and eyed down on the young man and people watched on.
The taller one clicked his tongue and gestured to his friend. The smaller one blinked and released the old man, and he dropped to his knees and coughed.
Henrich eyed down on the old man and up at the pair of them. “Go before this gets worse for the both of you.”
“Huh. You’ll see whether things will get worse for you or us by the time this day comes down,” the taller one turned and his friend followed him. “I’ll remember you well, Magister Wells.”
People watched as they left this part of the train to the next ahead and soon turned their eyes towards Henrich. He kneeled down to the old man helped him up to his seat again and nodded and reassured the old man. People all around smiled and some looked at each other.
Then they clapped and more joined in. Henrich blinked and looked as the entire train smiled and looked at him.
Jean grinned and closed his eyes and joined the clapping as well. Henrich turned and made his way back to his seat and was frowning, then Jean joined back beside him.
“All of that was part of your plan….” Henrich said without looking at him. “You wanted me to do that.”
Jean smiled. “Oh, I just wanted to see how far you’d go. I will admit that I pulled a bit of strings to motivate you to moving over there.”
“So all of that talk about changing things by setting an example was a lie then?” Henrich narrowed his eyes.
“No. That is simply the truth that I know in all of my times. Do you remember France and Germany and what I did there in Paris and Berlin?”
Henrich frowned at him.
“Believe me. What you did there will be a spark for the future you want for your people here.”
“And why do you care about our future? You’re not one of us,” Henrich frowned at him.
“Nothing. I just like changing the status quo of things I see,” Jean closed his eyes. “Consider yourself lucky then that I just happen to choose to be here and feel like changing yours.”
Henrich said nothing else and sat himself back on his seat, and Jean turned his eyes and people still staring in awe at Henrich despite his pointless brooding.
I thought you were one to live in more quieter places, Jean thought as he looked up on the population of crowds before, hauling over his view. Cars drove noisily here and there, and thousands of chatters and voices echoing all around him.
He walked down the streets with Henrich beside him. He smelled the familiar scent of hot dog as they passed a food stall.
But what he expected was the weather. The cold was forgiving and chilled him to the bone if not for him wearing a coat with a scarf over his neck and mouth. Yet most people here walked and talked as if all of this was normal. Even Henrich beside him walked ambly with his hands inside his pockets like it was nothing at all.
“Cold’s going to get worse so you’ll have to get used to this sooner or latter,” Henrich said with a glance that offered no sympathies. They were after all only employer and employee, and Henrich made it clear he trusted him about as much as a cop would trust a criminal.
Jean smiled it off. It was after all fair game here.
“So tell me why you decide to stop here? You said you had a friend here? If there was someone here who know you, I thought I’d know by now,” Henrich said.
“Sugihito is not someone who comes and goes leaving much of a clue or touch of him. One would call him a monk in a way. He likes to keep things to himself and never really deals with anyone. A reclusive.”
“Why am I not surprised people you know happen to know strange people.”
“A horrible insult to throw at me because that would mean you’re included in that small category of people you said was strange,” Jean smiled at him.
Henrich frowned. “Just keep him under control. I already tried my best to convince the other magisters to let someone from the outside in, but two of you is pushing it more than I’d like.”
“Do give us outsiders a little benefit of the doubt. We’re not so bad that we’ll destroy your entire isolated island just because we feel like we can.”
In an hour, they soon reached Sugihito’s place. Number Eleven. That was the address his contact, Jory, had told him where Sugihito was. His apartment was just like any of the other apartments stuck by his sides, unremarkable and unassuming just like Sugihito himself was. The window icy from the cold. How did he adapt to this weather I wonder?
Jean walked up and opened the fence gate with Henrich behind him, and they both made up to the door, and he knocked.
There was no response. Jean knocked again but it was the same again anyways. He’s not here?
“Guess you’re careless. You got the wrong information. Is that what I can expect from the Detective of France himself now?” Henrich frowned.
No. My Jory could never be wrong and neither can I and careless about information would be the day I retire from this. He turned the knob and it clicked opened. No one inside?
Henrich eyed through the gap inside. “Did someone broke into his house? I should call the police…” He made for his phone.
“No. No need for the police in this. Sugihito can take care of himself. I doubt any mugger or thief can deal with him without at least bringing in an army here,” Jean opened the door widely and stepped over the threshold.
“Huh?” Henrich walked in after him. “Are you insane? And what do you mean by…”
An ugly familiar stench gassed over Jean. Blood. He flicked the switch, and the light revealed him the scene he thought of in a thousand ways. Blood cascaded across the walls and a television smashed over onto the ground, and all over the room, corpses lid everywhere. Some with insides ripped out and others with their necks opened.
Jean looked over them, unmoved. I wished he held back more. These poor fools looked like they just got torn up by a tiger and a gorilla in a three-way fight between them. A thud echoed behind him.
He turned and found Henrich covering his mouth with his eyes widened, a hand on the wall to keep himself probably from falling over from it all. First time he ever saw blood? Or was this just too much for him?
“Jean….” Thudding boots came towards him and revealed Sugihito from the shadows of his alleyway with his sword drenched in blood. His battle-hardened face slick with blood, but his eyes held no emotion at all. “I thought Jory was lying when he said you’d be coming here.”
“A right mess of things you’ve made. These thieves picked the wrong house to try and rob from,” Jean eyed over the corpses. “Did they struggle?”
Sugihito said nothing. He looked as tall and strong as he had remembered. A pair of muscular arms from his years of training in a dojo in Japan with his sword and his hair tied over his back into a ponytail over his shoulder. The same scar on his face. He was what people would probably think as a modern-day samurai.
“So this is your friend then?” Henrich said through his hand over his mouth. “This… you expect me to bring in a cold-blooded murderer into politics of this entire island?”
Jean sighed. An overreaction. “I agree Sugihito could’ve perhaps given them cleaner and quicker deaths but murderer? You call murdering for self defense to be a punishable crime in your island then?”
“Self defense? This?” Henrich glanced over towards the corpse. “No one’s going to buy into that kind of lie.”
“Lie. Why would I lie over something as truthful as this? I know Sugihito for years and know he’s never a man who’d attack people unless provoked into self defense. He has codes,” Jean said.
“I can speak for myself, Jean,” Sugihito stepped up by him and looked right at Henrich.
“I suppose all of this must be too much for you. I’ll clean this all up. Both of you can go ahead. You need Jean’s help right?”
“And yours too,” Jean said.
“I have a feeling I’ll need your skills in this. What I’m about to deal with is going to change this entire city possibly, and if there’s as many people involved in this as I think there are, I’ll need someone with a strong body to help,” Jean smiled. “Care to join?”
“Only if this is for a good cause. I’m not going to do anything for just money,” Sugihito said.
“Good cause…” Henrich frowned at Sugihito as if it was a joke. “So you care about that kind of thing?”
“I may work with Jean but I’m not as shallow as him. I’ll help if this means helping others too,” Sugihito sheathed his sword.
Jean shrugged. His eyes over towards Henrich, and Henrich eyed suspiciously at Jean and back on Sugihito.
“Jean is going to help uncover the death of one of the most important magisters in our city. If he can do this, a lot of people will be happier and feel more safe with the murderer brought to justice.”
Sugihito paused, then eyed him. “How many people?”
“Everyone in this island,” Henrich frowned.
“Consider me in.”
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