Webs Of Fate

After Lisa left for school at the highschool of Kunen, founded 300 years ago, I put my suit back on, got my cane and fedora ready, and left the house, Thankfully, Master Carlos wasn't out today. I walked through the cobbled streets of Wictorian, a small town in Leopold.

As I walked through the streets, I thought back to the case in Kushan, the town next to wictorian, 'talents and tarot cards..' as suddenly two dozen white doves flew above the town, some people looked up to admire them, some continued on with their day, I stopped and looked up at them…If life was so peaceful..

[A/N: Wictorian is the town the mc is currently in]

Suddenly, the same 'god' I had seen in that place with hundreds of mirrors appeared beside me—Lucius Mavros, the self-proclaimed deity, strolling as if he owned the world.

"Greeting Ethan." He whispered to me, "Detective, it's detective gray, "god"…" I corrected him Lucius chuckled and winked at a passing woman before saying

"Since you still have your somewhat decent detective skills," Lucius continues, his voice dripping with mockery, "why not solve some cases? You know, bring some order to this chaotic world? Or, wait—since you're in Alaric's body, how about a fresh start? A new identity! You could even buy yourself a code name. Something cool, something mysterious."

I sighed, now thoroughly irritated, sighs. "A code name?" I mutter, feeling the weight of the absurdity in Lucius's suggestion. "Really? What am I supposed to call myself? The Detective Destroyer?"

Lucius chuckles. "No, no. It has to be short. Snappy, even. Something that strikes fear into the hearts of criminals, but also maintains that element of mystery. I'm thinking… how about 'Shadow'? Ooh, or Eclipse! Dark, enigmatic, and just vague enough to keep them guessing. The possibilities are endless, really."

I looks at Lucius like he's lost his mind. "Mister "god", I'm not here to play games. I'm just trying to figure out how I ended up in Alaric's body in this ridiculous world. I don't need a new identity."

Lucius raises an eyebrow, unfazed. "Ah, but see—that's the point, detective. You don't have a choice. You've been thrown into this world, and now you need to play by its rules. So why not embrace it? Step into the role, make the most of it. Solve some mysteries. You're already ahead of the game by having some detective skills, and a nice little fresh start. No one knows you here. Why not create your own legend?"

I grind my teeth in frustration. "I don't have time for legends or code names. I'm just trying to get a grasp on what's happening here and get back to my old life."

Lucius tilts his head, his expression one of mock contemplation. "Well, you could try. But I'm pretty sure the universe doesn't give a damn about what you want. You're in Alaric's body now. You're a part of this world, whether you like it or not."

"Anyways, which rating would you give your guardian angel?" Lucius asked me as I gave him a side-glance, "guardian angel? A two." I said, trying to end the conversation but of course this dude continued, "Timmy, that's your guardian angel's name heh." After saying that he disappeared…i let out a sigh

I continued down the street, my cane tapping against the cobbled ground with each step. When I reached the community board, my eyes immediately landed on a notice—another serial killer case. Stacks of newspapers lay nearby, about a dozen of them. I grabbed one and headed back home to Baker Street.

As I sat down on the few chairs in the house and the small table, Lisa returned from school, barely sparing me a glance as she muttered a quick 'hello' before heading to the shower. Thank God. I turned back to the newspaper, continuing where I had left off

I flipped through the newspaper with a sense of urgency, my eyes scanned the report of a serial murderer terrorizing the city. The headline was interesting: "City Gripped by Fear as Serial Killer Strikes Again: Authorities Baffled." A small shiver ran down his spine as my read the details, I have dealt with cases with included some face shifting magic or whatever, so I might be able to survive. The murder spree had continued for weeks, and despite multiple efforts by the local authorities, the killer had remained elusive, slipping through their fingers each time.

My detective instincts kicked in, and I quickly absorbed every detail. A pattern started to emerge: the victims shared no apparent connection, but each had been found in different parts of the city—strangely, always near a specific landmark. My eyes narrowed as i thought back to my old life—the methods, the observations, the subtle clues i used to see before anyone else.

I wasn't a licensed detective in this world, not yet at least, but my mind hadn't forgotten the sharpness it had once held. The thrill of solving cases, the satisfaction of uncovering the truth—Maybe I could help Marcus… I thought. Marcus, my—no, Alaric's—older brother, would have connections in law enforcement. If I could just prove myself capable, I might be able to get involved in the investigation.

The newspaper gave me the spark of hope i needed. If i could solve this serial killer case, even with no formal credentials, maybe it would open doors. Maybe i could even earn Marcus's trust and prove that i was more than just Alaric—that I was someone worthy of respect in this strange new life.

As I continued reading, I heard the faint sound of a door opening. Lisa stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her gaze fixed on the floor as she moved quickly toward her room. I immediately turned my attention back to the newspaper, giving her space. She didn't seem to notice—or care.

I felt a brief flash of discomfort, unsure how to act in this situation—i wasn't Alaric, but i was in his body, and these familial boundaries were something i didn't know how to navigate. My mind was still racing with the case, but i couldn't ignore the fact that Lisa was now aware of my odd behavior.

She glanced over at me, her eyes lingering on my tense posture before her gaze shifted down to the newspaper i was holding. A hint of curiosity appeared in her eyes, and she crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

"You've been reading the paper for hours, Alaric," she remarked, raising an eyebrow. "What's got you so interested? You're usually not one to waste time with this stuff."

I gave her a weary glance, a quick flicker of uncertainty passing through me. It wasn't like Alaric to show interest in something so… investigative. i wasn't sure how to explain it, but the serial killer case had become a puzzle i couldn't ignore. I quickly masked my thoughts and forced a small smile.

"I just thought it was interesting… nothing to worry about," i said, my voice casual as i folded the newspaper in half. I wasn't lying, but the casual tone did nothing to convince Lila.

Lisa gave me a knowing look before shrugging and heading toward her room. 'If you say so… but don't go getting yourself caught up in things that don't concern you.." Her tone was half-teasing, half-caring, but it left me with a pang of unease. She didn't know him—or Alaric, for that matter—well enough to understand what i was truly capable of.

As Lisa disappeared into her room to get dressed, my thoughts returned to the case. I can't ignore this. I need to solve it. I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility. Even though i wasn't in my own body, even though everything was strange and uncertain, i still had my detective mind. And i knew that this case could be the key to everything—proving his worth, gaining Marcus's trust, and maybe even understanding this world better…

I stood up, setting the folded newspaper down on the desk. I walked to the window, looking out over the Victorian city, my mind raced. There was a method to everything. I'd solve this, and when I did, maybe—just maybe—it would give me the answers i was looking for.

Lisa's voice echoed from her room, and my heart skipped a beat as i thought about the new life i was forging. I wasn't Alaric, not really. But if this world wanted me to play the part, I'd do it. I had a role to fill, and i wasn't going to let my new identity—his new life—stop him from seeking the truth.

With a final glance toward the door where Lisa had disappeared, i turned back to the case, preparing for what would come next.

The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains of the small house, casting a soft, golden light across the room. I, in Alaric's body, dressed carefully in a crisp white button-up shirt, a neatly tied cravat, a dark suit vest, and an overcoat that felt just a bit too formal for my tastes. A Victorian-style fedora sat atop my head, completing the ensemble, though I still felt out of place in such elegant clothing. I glanced at the small mirror hanging by the door, adjusting my tie slightly before stepping out.

Lisa had already left for school, as she did every morning. The house was quiet, and I took a moment to breathe in the calm before the storm of the day began. My mind was still reeling from the strange new world I had found myself in, but the case I had read about in the newspaper offered a small sense of purpose—something I could hold onto in this unfamiliar place. The article mentioned a handprint left at a crime scene, and that detail had caught my attention. It could be nothing. Or it could be something worth investigating.

As I walked through the cobblestone streets of the Wictorian town, I couldn't help but notice the sharp contrast between the grand architecture and the modest people moving about. Women in long dresses and men in suits and top hats filled the streets, all walking with an air of quiet formality. The conversation around me was polite, measured, almost like something out of a historical play.

"Good day, sir," a passerby greeted me with a respectful nod. "I trust the weather finds you in good health?"

I returned the nod out of habit, though the exchange felt strange. I had to remind myself—I wasn't just some regular man in this world. I was in Alaric's body now, a young man from a family of some standing. Not nobility, but respectable enough that my presence wasn't ignored.

The streets bustled with activity, yet everything seemed so restrained, like a society constantly aware of its own decorum. The way people spoke, the careful phrasing of their words, the measured movements—it was all so formal, almost theatrical. Even the children playing in the streets seemed oddly disciplined, raised with a clear understanding of their place in this strict social hierarchy.

It felt almost suffocating.

I pushed the thought aside and continued toward the district mentioned in the newspaper. It wasn't far from the market—a part of town known for its lively atmosphere and occasional rough crowds.

The alley I was searching for was quiet now, but I knew that murder never left a place unchanged. The marks of violence lingered long after the body was gone.

I was just about to step inside when a passing noblewoman caught my attention. She walked briskly, her hand elegantly holding the ends of her shawl to keep it from the wind. Her eyes flicked over me briefly—a polite, measured glance that suggested she had already decided I wasn't worth her time.

"Such a strange fellow," she murmured, almost to herself, before continuing on.

I sighed but didn't let it bother me.

I needed to focus.