•°Alva Lorenz°•

Don't slow down, Snicker-Sney ⚡69EQ8Y⚡ and good luck°•

Every day unfolded in the dark alleys of the underground city, as if according to a script. Every market stall filed reports, the bank processed transactions, and the hermit oversaw every step, rereading and filling out paperwork. It had become a familiar routine. First, long hours of work, followed by a moment of silence with books and a glass of expensive whiskey, obtained through local black market liquor dealers. And only once a month, as if on schedule, a young, cyan-white detective appeared in the dark, dusty catacombs. His appearance captivated dozens of eyes and ears, as did his ever-repeating route to one specific location: the market owner's personal office and home. Alva didn't want unnecessary rumors, much less eyes glued to the young detective. He didn't like it, not least because he considered himself the only one with the right to look at Balsa with such a piercing gaze. Let me ask you what brought the Paranormal Detective to the dark depths of social life at such a late hour? Coming down here so late could be dangerous, especially when you can be seen a mile away. Alva slowly placed the book on the coffee table next to the chair he'd been sitting in. He then crossed his legs, looking at Balsa as he entered his private office.