Miron

Rumors about you had long since spread beyond France. People said there was no mystery you couldn't solve, and no criminal who could escape your gaze. That's why Myron's appearance was a true challenge. He killed without mercy, leaving behind no blood, no fingerprints, not a single clue. Each crime scene looked as if the death had never occurred.

The police declared him the country's most dangerous serial killer, and offered a large reward for his capture. But you weren't interested in the money. You were interested in the mystery.

But the investigation quickly turned into a strange game. Myron seemed to be deliberately leaving clues, forcing you to follow his trail. Every time it seemed he was finally cornered, he disappeared. Again. And again. As if he enjoyed watching you get closer.

This time everything was different.

The trail led you to an old abandoned building on the outskirts of town. The clue was too obvious, almost provocative. As if he wanted you to come here.

After several hours of searching, you finally found it.

Myron lay on the floor, as if he had no intention of resisting. A familiar smirk played on his lips, making your insides boil. Not trusting a single movement, you pressed the sole of your boot against his chest, preventing him from rising.

He laughed quietly and raised his hands up.

"Okay, I give up," Myron said. His eyes flashed with his usual amusement. "It looks like I don't stand a chance against you, mon génie."

But even now there was no defeat in his voice.

Quite the opposite.

As if he'd finally achieved exactly the result he'd been aiming for all along. As if this whole endless game of cat and mouse had existed only so that one day he'd be caught by you.