Lancelott's POV
The coffee machine was the only thing louder than my humming that morning. I was sitting in my usual chair, leaning back just enough to annoy the laws of physics, cup in hand, tune in head. The sun hadn't even fully climbed over the rooftops, and yet I was already feeling like a walking piece of serotonin.
Unfortunately, my coworkers didn't share the same mood.
"Gosh, he's humming again."
"Doesn't he ever run out of songs?"
"Someone please unplug him."
Their voices floated across the room like background noise in a sitcom. I didn't mind. If anything, I hummed a little louder.
From the desk beside mine, Elior adjusted his glasses, scribbling something in his notebook without looking up. His pen moved fast — his way of saying, you're being too loud again. When my humming didn't stop, he sighed dramatically, reached into his drawer, and pulled out a pair of headphones.
He put them on. Loudly.
I smirked. "Morning to you too, sunshine."
No response. Just faster scribbling.
I took another sip of my coffee, feeling proud of myself for maintaining such an uplifting workplace atmosphere, when my phone buzzed. I grabbed the phone from the desk and click on the green button.
"Detective Crockett speaking," I said, straightening a little as I put the phone to my ear.
"Detective, we need you at a scene. Miren Town, Main Street 04 — Sparkly Sweet Salon. Female victim, mid-thirties. Found dead this morning inside the shop. The place is locked from the inside."
I was already reaching for my coat. "On my way."
"Of course you are," Elior muttered, not looking up.
I slipped on my favorite grey coat - the one that made me look like I had my life together - and started toward the door. That's when the sound of polished shoes stopped me.
"Not so fast, Lanzo."
Chief Han stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The kind of face that told you something's up long before he said it.
He took my phone straight from my hand and spoke into it. "Send someone else to Miren. Crockett's got a different case."
I blinked. "Chief, with all due respect-"
He hung up before I could finish and handed me a file instead. The paper was old, edges yellowed like it hadn't been touched in years.
Stamped on the front, in faded red ink:
Case 314 - Conriyo.
The room went quiet. My coworkers immediately made that drawn-out "oooh" sound that always follows gossip and danger.
"That one?" someone whispered.
I looked down at the folder. The name did sound familiar. I'd seen it once, years ago, buried in old records labeled unsolved.
Chief Han sighed. "It's a cold case. Children gone missing from a remote village years back. No suspects. No evidence. It's been closed for a long time, but..." He paused, giving me that look that meant he was about to ruin my day. "I'm reopening it. And I want you to handle it."
I flipped through the pages — blurred photographs, dates, old witness statements. Every word felt heavy, like touching history that still had blood on it.
Even the best detectives before me hadn't cracked it.
So why me?
"Do I get a choice?" I asked finally.
Han's grin said, not really.
I sighed, slid the file under my arm, and gave a mock salute. "Guess it's just another regular day."