"Amazing... Is this Germany?!"
Those were Martin's first words as he stepped off the train. The first idea that crossed his mind was to head to the nearest chess club to pass the time until the meeting began.
While searching, he bumped into David—one of the top six detectives in Europe. A kind and cheerful man, only 25 years old, yet his reputation had spread across the continent due to his extraordinary intelligence. At just 20, he had solved one of the most complex cases faced by French police and had since cracked multiple others across different countries.
Flashback – One Day Before the Trip:
At the capital's police headquarters, a meeting gathered the sharpest minds in European criminal investigation:
David (25, France)
Rafael (47, Portugal)
Kevin (34, France)
John (56, Germany)
Steven (33, Spain)
Edward (28, Italy)
Leading the investigation was Chief Inspector Lucas Simon (48, England).
Simon, calmly:
"Let me introduce myself—Lucas Simon, Chief of the Capital Police. As you all know, a serial killer has been spreading fear throughout our country. We have reason to believe he has fled to Germany, which makes him a threat to all of Europe. That's why we'll be collaborating with the Munich police.
We need your brilliant minds to piece together what we know and reach a conclusion that'll help us catch him. There's also one more person goining the investigation—a 20-year-old university student named Martin. He has a significant connection to the case."
David (surprised):
"Why is he goining us? Shouldn't we just interrogate him?"
Simon:
"This boy's deductive skills are no joke. His reasoning is excellent, and he knows the Ghoul personally, having met him several times."
Steven (arrogantly):
"Sounds like you're comparing him to us. Everything you just listed, we all already possess."
Simon remained silent, though his eyes betrayed his disapproval.
Edward (yawning):
"Enough of this nonsense. Let's focus on what matters."
Steven (annoyed):
"Look at that, another child speaking."
Edward (glancing at his notebook):
"You call yourself a brilliant detective but can't even do basic math. There's only five years between us... Wait, I forgot—you don't have the brain to think with anyway."
Simon (slamming the table):
"Enough!"
John:
"Alright, let's calm down. Mr. Simon, is this student really that intelligent? I don't mean to belittle him, but involving a university student in a case of this magnitude—especially giving him access to classified intel—feels reckless. In my view, interrogation should suffice."
Simon:
"Don't worry, he's mature enough. Just trust him. Now, let's discuss our strategy..."
Present Day:
David (watching children play nearby):
"You know... I envy those kids."
This sentence surprised Martin, who looked at him like a reader intrigued by the next chapter of a book.
David (placing a hand on Martin's left shoulder):
"When I should've been out playing like them, I was locked in a room solving puzzle after puzzle... Just a notebook and a pen. That's what I remember. So... want to solve one?"
Martin (to himself):
"The inspector said they don't trust me. Maybe this is my chance to prove myself—maybe that's why he's testing me. But from what he just said... it sounds like he had a tragic past."
Martin accepted David's challenge with a confident nod. The riddle was:
"Where does the past go once it's gone?"
Martin (with a confident look):
"You're testing my way of thinking. This riddle has no definitive answer—it's just perspectives and reasoning. It's all about persuasion. But to me, the past doesn't move—we move through it. Everything we will live will one day become the past, so we're merely passing through predestined memories and events.
So... what do you think of my answer?"
David (clapping with a wide grin):
"Brilliant. So you're saying achievements and goals don't make you special—they were your fate all along. Alright, let's discuss our plan on the way to the hotel."
Martin:
"I'd prefer if you told me more about the other five. After all, we'll be meeting them tonight, so I'd like to have a sense of who they are."
At 1:00 PM, Martin and David walked slowly toward the hotel.
David (smiling):
"Let's start with John Thorn. He's the eldest, calm and rational, always makes thoughtful decisions. I respect him a lot and often seek his advice. He's also very skilled in literature.
Then there's Rafael Keller. His personality might not stand out, but his scientific knowledge is incredible. He's solved many poisoning cases. Back in Portugal, they call him 'The Antidote'.
Kevin Maddox is known as 'The Black Thorn' because of how criminals fail against him—he's a thorn in their side. He's unpredictable. We're both from France, so there's a bit of a rivalry, but we share the same playful spirit."
David's face turned serious as he continued:
"There's someone you should be wary of—Steven Ashford. Arrogant and condescending. He sees others as beneath him. He loves the spotlight and was completely against your involvement. Be careful—he'll be watching for the smallest mistake.
As for Edward Roth... Honestly, even if you gathered all of us, we'd only match half of his level. Italian security is lucky to have him. I can't even describe him. All I'll say is:
He's not a threat to you, don't worry. But he knows everything. Every field. His analytical speed is terrifying."
Martin (to himself):
"You just described him."
David:
"Now, how about we grab something to eat?"
Martin:
"Sure. There's still time."
At the restaurant:
While Martin sipped a small cup of coffee and David enjoyed French pastries he'd brought with him, they sat by a window. Nearby, four men were talking about a massacre that happened in London—many police officers had died. Martin listened intently.
As the two stood to leave, one of the four suddenly collapsed and died.
Amid the screams and panic, David ordered everyone to stay still and blocked the exits. He then approached the man's mouth.
David:
"Looks like poisoning..." (stands up) "Let's check the table: bread and cheese, milk, coffee, pastries. Now, you four—what was your connection to him?"
Martin (from behind):
"Shouldn't you check which food was poisoned?"
David (sharp gaze):
"Look closely—bread's in a basket, pastries in another, drinks are in separate bottles. The victim drank milk—there are traces of it..."
Martin:
"His coffee cup is empty, so that's not it. He didn't touch the cake either. Did he eat bread?"
Sam:
"Yes, a slice of bread with cheese, followed by milk."
Just then, the police arrived and locked down the restaurant. People whispered in confusion while Martin sat silently, analyzing every detail.
Martin (to himself):
"I'll stay quiet and observe. Let's see what kind of brilliance Europe's best detective has..."
Lost in thought, Martin was startled by a voice behind him. Turning around, his face showed surprise. He uttered one sentence:
"It's been a while, Michael. How's your solo investigation going?"
Michael smiled faintly, adjusted his tie, and walked past Martin.
Michael (confidently):
"I'm the inspector now handling this case." (places a hand on David's shoulder)
"I've heard a lot about you. You smile, but I can see the pain behind it."
Martin (to himself):
"He's changed. That fire in his eyes—the fire that once burned to catch the Ghoul—it's gone. What happened to you, Michael?"
David (inspecting the victim's hand):
"I think the poison was on his hand."
Michael:
"I agree. If it wasn't in the food, it had to be on his skin. But how did it get there?"
David:
"There are two possibilities: either the killer made him touch something laced with poison... or he—"
Michael (cutting him off):
"Or he killed himself. Right?"
David (nodding, then questioning):
"Did any of you have a grudge against the victim?"
Frank:
"Actually... yes. Peter—the victim—stole my research, which took me three years. He submitted it to the university, got top marks, and landed a job at Charité Hospital—my dream workplace. When I tried to report him, the professors laughed and said:
'Someone poor like you could never produce work like this.'
They didn't believe me... all because I didn't have money."
(he cries)
"But I didn't kill him... I swear!"
David (gently):
"It's okay. I understand how you feel."
Martin (to himself):
"Classism... Nobles have the power, money, and knowledge—while the poor are treated like slaves, stripped of everything, exploited, and left with nothing. How long will this injustice continue?"
Michael:
"Anyone else have a reason to hate him?"
They all shook their heads.
David:
"What were the last words of the victim?"
Sam:
"He said he felt numbness in his face—like he couldn't feel it anymore."
David nodded and whispered to Michael:
"One question. Just one, and the killer will confess."
Michael smiled faintly:
"Go on then—show us your brilliance."
David lined the three suspects up and asked:
"If you were the killer, how would you poison your victim?"
The real killer (to himself):
"What a stupid question. He thinks this will catch me? Ha."
Frank:
"You really think the killer would explain how he did it?"
David (serious):
"Just answer the question." (grips Frank's shoulder, smiling coldly)
"Trust me—I'm the best in my country."
Frank (nervously):
"Uh... I'd put it in his food."
Martin (to himself):
"It's over. The
case is clear. The killer's sloppy. I thought there might be a connection to the mansion murder and the poison aconite—a toxin hard to detect even with modern tech. A slow death unless in large dose..."