I must say, a career in music is quite exhilarating. The last event was a huge success. The people are sure to be chanting my name in the streets any day now. But I must not get distracted by temporary thrills. I’ve gotten nowhere since that event.
I thought it’d be best if I spent some time in the venue to maybe gather some information, pick up a few hints or a nod towards the right direction. Afterall, my superiors have faith in me, so I’ve been tasked with the impossible.
Today was a quiet day for such a strange café where I’d seen screaming children, floating teacups, and that bald man, yes, the owner. He was the strangest of all. Although, at least he acknowledges my musical genius and allows me to use his business as a place of creative expression. At least he is intelligent enough to do that.
However, despite the success I have had until now, I suppose today is my unlucky day. I have avoided her for as long as I possibly could but today, that woman is here, at the café.
I’m not quite sure what to call it, or how to explain it. What exactly is so terrifying about her? I suppose it’s simply my intuition garnered from years of experience. She is a suspect.
The homeland is wary of her existence.
I caught her reflection in the window so she would not make eye contact with me. She is truly an odd human being. What kind of monster drinks straight black coffee? Not just that, 4 cups of it. In one sitting.
I had already entered through the door when I realized she was here. It would be bizarre if I simply walked out within seconds of entering, so I chose the farthest seat from the suspicious detective so that she would not notice me.
Other than her unsettling presence at the café, it was relatively calm... until another terrifying woman showed up.
The man wearing a red garment at the cash register referred to her as “Ms. Rika” so I assume she is someone of importance. A disinterested looking boy followed in her wake.
She spoke in capital letters, that is to say, she was very very loud. The other boy at the counter, the average looking one, looked quite spooked and rushed away somewhere to acquire the tea she had requested.
The man in the red was also quite suspicious. He knows a little too much.
His and Ms. Rika's banter did contain useful intelligence. Apparently the homeless looking gentleman sitting at table 5 was an information broker.
During all of this I heard a faint shatter coming from the lower levels of the café. I’m sure no one else noticed, but my hearing is superior to that of the average person for professional reasons.
Oh, this is not a good situation.
That boy might have broken crucial materials! He was getting in the way of my important work. I quickly took out my phone and dialled Scanta’s number. The design was… not very discreet, but I had to settle since there were no other options and this would be disposed of at some point anyways. In a hushed voice I disclosed my concerns about the café property, to which Scanta responded that he would be back right away.
After much more meaningless banter, “Ms. Rika” and the young boy left, and all was quiet again.
Until Mr. Scanta barged in, out of breath.
He did not stop to acknowledge anyone, even his customers, even his best DJ. He made a beeline towards his office. I decided to follow. I needed to assess the damage myself.