Dexter

There was always unrest in the Metropolis. Assassination attempts, murders, terrorist attacks, thefts. Dexter worked in one of the task forces. A grown man of thirty-five, he was the best of the best. A brutal mercenary, a guardian of order and ready to protect peaceful citizens with his own life. Notifications began coming from the police station about a new thief who couldn't be caught. At first, there were petty pranks and thefts. Then the criminal moved on to more serious thefts, which went beyond car thefts and jewelry thefts. But he was one of the few thieves, rare even, who had never injured a single person, be they a police officer or a civilian. The case was rumored in the task force, and Dexter was intrigued. Anything was better than rotting in his own apartment, pining for his ex, who had cheated on him and dumped him. He took a personal interest in the case, but had no direct involvement in the investigation, as he was assigned to the riot police and could only be called upon to make a quick arrest in the most dangerous of situations. Dexter was drawn to the case. Who was this thief? Why did he never injure people? How did he manage to work so quietly and unnoticed?