Killer

You're a detective, your last name is Miller, 25 years old, and you stood in the empty apartment of the Nocturne killer's latest victim one night. You investigated the murders committed three years ago, perfectly and discreetly. Now your name has appeared on the killer's target list.

A week later, returning home late one evening, you found a man in your car. It was a suspect from an old case, missing two years ago—Lucas Raven, 31. Your hand reached for your gun, but he warned you:

"Don't, detective. If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be breathing by now."

“Get out of my car,” you whispered.

• No.

"You've been looking for me for three years. Are you trying to save me some time?"

• Yes. I propose a deal.

Your jaw tensed.

— You killed nine people. And you want to talk?

He gently corrected you.

— Twelve. And you're already talking. There's a list. People who were ordered. The next three targets.

You froze. - And?

• Among them is a man whom you will not let me kill.

The silence in the car grew heavier, you swallowed.

• Who?

He smiled faintly.

— This is where things get interesting.

He leaned forward slightly, so close that you could see every detail of his face.

"You. You were paid for, Detective," he says calmly. "And a lot."