Chapter 4: The Domestic Dispute
[3:00 PM – Apartment Building – September 20, 2013]
The dispatcher call came in, a simple domestic dispute. Adam was in the patrol car with Nolan, and the air was thick with unspoken tension, a nervous, expectant silence that was louder than any alarm. The rhythmic clatter of the car's engine was the only sound, a constant, comforting thrum that was a strange comfort. Adam's internal monologue was a frantic debate about whether to use the [DIS], fearing Nolan's reaction. He was a ghost, a professional liar. He had to be smart. He had to be clever. He had to be a ghost.
This isn't a game, he thought, his mind racing. This is real. This is a woman in danger. This is a man who is about to make a terrible mistake. I can't just stand by and watch. But if I use the System, if I use my foreknowledge, what will Nolan think? He'll think I'm a fake. He'll think I'm a cheat. He'll think I'm a liar. The system was a silent, unfeeling partner, but its message was a clear, impossible challenge. [SYSTEM: Moral Dilemma Detected: You have two choices. Choice A: Use the System to de-escalate the situation. The probability of a successful de-escalation is 98%. The probability of Nolan's trust in you decreasing is 80%. Choice B: Do not use the System. The probability of a successful de-escalation is 20%. The probability of Nolan's trust in you increasing is 90%.] The data was clear, cold, and terrifyingly human. The System was not just a tool; it was a moral compass. It was a ghost who was hunting another ghost.
Adam, standing in the doorway of the apartment, used his [CHA] stat to talk down the suspect. The man was a giant, a hulking figure with a face as impassive as granite, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes a cold, piercing blue that seemed to see right through Adam's facade. The woman, a small, terrified figure, was standing behind him, her hands clasped to her chest, her eyes wide with fear.
"Sir," Adam said, his voice a low, steady bass. "I understand you're upset. But we need you to calm down. We need you to let us help you."
"Help me?" the man said, his voice a low growl. "You don't understand. She... she..." he gestured to the woman, his hands trembling. "She's... she's not who I thought she was."
Adam's inner voice was in a panic. He was a human, but he was a human with a System. He had to be smart. He had to be clever. He had to be a ghost. The comedic element was Adam fumbling his words as he tried to sound tough and authoritative, which the DIS hilariously corrected in his head. [SYSTEM: Your tone is a mix of a timid puppy and a disappointed dad. This is not an effective de-escalation technique. Recommended Tone: Calm, authoritative, and compassionate. Do not use the word 'puppy.'] The message was a much-needed moment of levity in an otherwise tense situation.
Adam successfully de-escalated the situation without violence, and the DIS awarded him a "preventive bonus". He had made a difficult choice, and he had succeeded.
Bishop, who had been watching from a distance, walked over to Adam and Nolan, her face a mask of cold fury. "Nolan," she said, her voice a low, gravelly monotone. "You went in without backup. You went in without a plan. You went in... without a a weapon." She turned to Adam. "And you, Officer Nolan. You used your 'cop gut' to talk him down. A curious outcome." The praise was a veiled warning, a subtle sign of her suspicion. "You're a good rookie, Nolan. But you're a weird one. Don't let your 'gut' get in the way of your job."
Adam felt a jolt of recognition. His "gut" was a System, a realization that was both terrifying and empowering. He was a human who was acting on instinct, on training, on the cold logic of a past life. He was a ghost who was a professional liar. He had to be smart. He had to be clever. He had to be a ghost. The game had just begun. And he was a pawn in a game he didn't want to play.