The officer returned and signaled for Dave to follow him. He was worried but obeyed. They soon entered the restaurant where a young woman was sitting in one of the chairs. In front of her was a whiteboard with some art supplies.
"This is Diana, she is our forensic artist. Tell her everything you remember about the masked man, and she will sketch it," the officer explained before heading on his way.
Seeing Dave's tense expression, she smiled gently and said, "Please calm down, we're just trying to help. And don't worry about grumpy Max; he's always like that."
Dave looked at the officer who had just left, and a small smile appeared on his lips. 'Grumpy Max, huh? Well, it definitely suits him,' he chuckled to himself, then began describing everything he remembered.
A few moments later, he was looking at a very lifelike sketch of the oni-masked man. He saw a man in his late thirties, of Asian descent, with curly black hair and eyes as dark and deep as a pit. Even the nasty scar on the left side of his face was visible. It looked more like a photograph with a filter applied than a sketch. On many TV shows, he knew that police have people to sketch suspects on the spot, and most of the time, he scoffs at how quickly they draw such realistic images, and how witnesses' extraordinary memories can perfectly describe someone they just caught a glimpse of.
But now, with everything happening to him, he guessed that maybe those shows aren't exaggerated.
"So, what do you think? Is this how he looked?" Diana asked. He just shook his head, still half mesmerized by her skills. "What about the tattoo I mentioned?" he asked. She shrugged and replied, "We've noted that, but since you didn't see it clearly, there's not much we can do about it."
Soon, the officer known as 'Grumpy Max' returned, looked at the sketch, then at Dave. He then placed his hand on Dave's shoulder and said, "Mr. Dave, give us your contact info, and we'll reach out if we need anything," before taking the sketch and walking off without even asking for his details.
Dave was stunned; he looked at Diana, who offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. You can give me your contact info. And try not to go out alone for a few days, especially at night."
Dave then provided his contact info and left the restaurant. Outside, he saw Kumar talking to some people. When Kumar saw him, he waved. Dave's face flushed a deep red, and a vein throbbed at his temple. Everything with this guy's restaurant seemed to go wrong. Now he dares to wave as if nothing happened, so he just nodded and left. He swore he would never come back.
'But the food didn't do anything wrong, right? Why should I be mad at it when everything's the old man's fault,' Dave thought, contemplating his life choices.
Elsewhere, in an abandoned building, six people looked at each other with gloomy expressions. They all wore damp, muddy black clothes. One of them sighed heavily and asked, "What should we do now, Captain?" The man they called Captain looked equally gloom-ridden. He was about two meters tall, with curly black hair and deep black eyes. A nasty scar ran down the left side of his face.
He looked at his subordinate and said, "Not only did we fail to get the mushroom, but we also got caught on camera." He regarded his subordinate with a pitying look and continued, "Be ready to lose a finger or two, and try to stay quiet; if you don't, you might lose your head instead of a finger."
Everyone looked at him with horror. "Captain, are you serious?" one asked. The tall man scoffed and said, "We messed up big time today, so just accept whatever punishment the boss gives us. I'll try to talk to him, but I can't promise anything. It's all because of that damn clown. We should've taken the trace erasure skill, but we got too cocky and thought we'd never get caught. No point in stalling the inevitable. Let's go see the boss."
After hearing their leader, they all nodded grimly and left the building.
Somewhere else, after finishing his breakfast, Dave was out for a walk to clear his head after the morning's events. As he strolled, something caught his eye.
The internet café was on a quiet side street in London, nestled between a barber shop and a discount phone store. Its sign was faded around the edges, with chipped letters, but still proud. Inside, the air carried a faint scent of instant coffee and warm electronics. Rows of old desktop computers lined the walls, their screens humming softly beneath flickering fluorescent lights. The furniture was mismatched—scuffed wooden chairs and a few cracked leather seats—but everything was kept tidy.
The owner had taped handwritten notes near the counter: "Cash only," "No food near keyboards," and "Wi-Fi password on receipt." It wasn't stylish, but it had a stubborn charm—one of the last remnants of a time when the internet still felt like a place you went to.
Dave never thought he'd see an internet café in this day and age. It used to be very popular, but as everyone gained access to computers and smartphones, it quickly fell out of style.
As Dave entered the café, he saw an older woman in her sixties sitting behind the counter, reading a book. As soon as she saw Dave, she looked at him and said in a cold, flat tone, "Cash only, and you should pay up front." The customer service took Dave aback, but he was reluctant to care much at first. He paid her, then sat in front of one of the newer models of computers.
Dave was unsure what to do next. He had just arrived on a whim and was uncertain about his next step. Then, he remembered what had happened yesterday—the mysterious dreamscape Lucid. He decided to search for it, specifically focusing on that strange mushroom.
As he was about to press enter to start the search, someone grabbed his shoulder from behind. It was a man in his early thirties with a well-trained physique, blond hair, and two deep blue eyes that looked like tiny lakes; he was wearing a police uniform. Dave immediately recognized him—Grumpy Max. He was startled. How did he get here? I didn't even notice him approach.
Dave stood up and asked, "Officer, did something happen?" Max just stared at him, then at the monitor behind him, and said, "Turn that off and follow me. We have something to discuss." Dave quickly complied and followed the officer. He wanted to ask where they were going, but they soon entered a restaurant.
It was called the Pizza House, a well-known pizza chain with locations all over the world. Dave frowned, wondering why they came here, but before he could ask, the officer sat at an empty table and signaled for him to sit as well.
As Dave sat down, Max looked at him for a few moments and said, "Devan Nair, twenty-nine years old, originally from India, now working as a Senior Architect at Megacorp, am I right?"
Dave was shocked at how quickly he gathered this information. He started to sweat out of fear, but slowly nodded his head.
"Tell me, Mr. Dave, what do you know about Lucid?" As soon as the word left Max's mouth, Dave reacted instinctively, grabbing the fork nearby and pointing it at the officer. He didn't understand why he did it; maybe it was all the tension finally spilling out, or perhaps what happened with the strangers yesterday made him act this way, or maybe it was just the fear of the unknown—because Dave knew almost nothing about Lucid, and now someone was talking about it. He was just scared.
Meanwhile, the officer looked very nonchalant and detached, as if he were sitting somewhere else. Soon, Dave realized why. When he looked around, everyone in the restaurant was staring at him—some even pointing guns at him, ready to shoot if he did anything threatening.
A shiver ran down his spine. His hands started to sweat, and his legs trembled. He quickly understood why the officer had brought him here—it was a trap, and Dave had walked right into it. Everyone here, whether customers or staff, seemed to be working with the officer. He was surrounded with no way to escape. Dave's breathing grew rapid; he started hyperventilating.
Seeing his distress, the officer sighed and said, "Calm down, Mr. Dave. If I wanted to do something, I would have done it already. As I said, I just wanted to talk with you, so drop that fork and listen to me.
Soon, Dave calmed down, dropped the fork, and sat back down, staring holes into the officer.
"Now, I will ask you one more time. What do you know about Lucid?"