Lord of Perverted Ladies

For several seconds, I couldn’t move.

The blue window remained suspended before my eyes.

Elias.

Status: Deceased.

I looked toward the apartment door.

I’d spoken to him less than five minutes ago.

I’d heard his voice.

Taken the envelope from him.

Watched him walk down the stairs.

Yet the System insisted he was dead.

A strange thought crossed my mind.

It hadn’t said Killed.

It hadn’t said Missing.

Only...

Deceased.

Almost as though that fact had been true long before I’d met him.

The window flickered once before dissolving into countless blue fragments.

My phone buzzed again.

This time it was an ordinary notification.

Noah.

Hurry.

Professor Ellis doesn’t have much time.

I frowned.

Not much time?

I immediately called him.

He answered before the first ring finished.

"What happened?"

"I’m not sure."

His voice was low.

"The doctors say he’s physically fine."

"But..."

"He keeps forgetting where he is."

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

"Memory interference."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I caught myself too late.

Noah remained silent for a moment.

"You’ve been saying things like that a lot lately."

"I know."

"You always stop halfway."

"..."

"If something’s happening..."

"...you can tell me."

The words lingered between us.

I wanted to.

More than once, I’d almost told him about the System.

Every time something stopped me.

Fear.

Instinct.

Or perhaps...

The System itself.

"I’ll explain."

"When I understand it myself."

Noah sighed.

"I’ll hold you to that."

The call ended.

I slipped the photograph Elias had given me into my backpack before leaving the apartment.

Something told me it would matter sooner rather than later.

The academy was strangely quiet.

Classes had already begun.

Most students had no idea that a professor had disappeared the previous night.

Or that half the police department had spent the early hours searching an abandoned railway depot.

Life continued.

As if mysteries politely waited until after lectures.

Noah was waiting outside the infirmary.

He looked like he hadn’t slept.

Dark circles hung beneath his eyes.

The moment he saw me, he handed me a disposable cup of coffee.

"You need this."

"So do you."

"I already had three."

"That explains the shaking."

"I’m trying not to think about that."

We entered together.

Professor Ellis lay awake.

His ankle had been wrapped.

The cut on his forehead had already been stitched.

Physically...

He looked far healthier than he had a few hours earlier.

Mentally...

That was another matter.

He looked at us with obvious recognition.

"Adrian."

"Noah."

For a moment, relief washed over me.

Then he smiled politely and asked,

"Have we met before?"

The room became silent.

Noah slowly lowered his coffee.

"...Professor?"

Professor Ellis frowned.

"I’m sorry."

"I know your faces."

"But..."

He rubbed his temple.

"I can’t place them."

The attending doctor stepped forward.

"This has been happening since sunrise."

"He remembers historical events perfectly."

"He can recite dates."

"Names."

"Theorems."

"But anything from approximately the last twenty-four hours..."

The doctor shook his head.

"...keeps disappearing."

Professor Ellis looked genuinely embarrassed.

"I’m terribly sorry."

"I don’t know why."

Noah forced a smile.

"It’s alright."

"We’ll figure it out."

The doctor gestured for us to step outside.

Once the door closed, he spoke quietly.

"It’s unlike ordinary amnesia."

"His long-term memory is intact."

"So is his reasoning."

"It’s as though..."

He searched for the right words.

"...someone selectively erased yesterday."

My heartbeat quickened.

Exactly what the System had warned.

As we walked through the academy courtyard, neither Noah nor I spoke.

Students laughed nearby.

Someone complained about an upcoming mathematics exam.

A football rolled across the grass.

Everything felt painfully ordinary.

Until my phone vibrated.

Not a message.

A photograph.

No sender.

The image loaded slowly.

My blood froze.

It showed the academy courtyard.

Taken from above.

Dozens of students walked across the paths.

Noah and I stood clearly in the centre.

The photograph had been taken...

Seconds ago.

I immediately looked up.

Nothing.

Only the administration building.

Trees.

Clouds.

No drones.

No photographers.

No open windows.

No one watching.

Except...

On the roof of the old library...

A familiar silhouette.

Long coat.

Silver hair.

Lucien.

He wasn’t hiding.

He simply stood there.

Watching.

I grabbed Noah’s arm.

"There."

He followed my gaze.

"What?"

"The roof."

"I don’t see anyone."

I looked again.

The rooftop was empty.

As though Lucien had never been there.

Noah frowned.

"What did you see?"

"...Nothing."

He looked unconvinced.

"I’m getting tired of that answer."

Before I could reply, another notification appeared on my phone.

The photograph I’d just received...

Had disappeared.

Exactly like every other message connected to this case.

"Adrian."

A voice called from behind us.

We turned.

Ryan Carter jogged toward us, completely out of breath.

"There you are."

"What happened?"

Noah asked.

Ryan stopped beside us.

"The principal wants to see all club members."

"Now."

"Why?"

Ryan shrugged.

"He wouldn’t tell me."

"He only said..."

Ryan swallowed.

"...that something has been delivered."

Ten minutes later...

The Mystery Research Club stood inside the principal’s office.

Ryan.

Ethan.

Noah.

Me.

The principal stood behind his desk.

His expression was unusually serious.

Resting in front of him was a wooden box.

Old.

Dark.

Locked with a brass latch.

"I received this this morning."

He looked directly at us.

"It was addressed to your club."

No postage.

No courier.

"It simply appeared on my desk."

Noah exchanged a glance with me.

The principal continued.

"I assumed it was connected to Professor Ellis."

He carefully opened the latch.

Inside...

Lay dozens of yellowed index cards.

Each contained a handwritten name.

The principal picked up the first.

He frowned.

"This is odd."

"What?"

Ryan asked.

The principal turned the card around.

Written neatly across it...

Professor Andrew Ellis.

He picked up another.

Victor Hale.

Another.

Noah Walker.

My pulse quickened.

Slowly...

He lifted the next card.

His expression changed.

"Adrian."

He handed it to me.

My own name stared back at me.

Nothing else.

Just...

Adrian Cross.

I turned the card over.

A sentence had been written on the back in faded black ink.

Your story has already been catalogued.

Before anyone could speak...

Every light in the office went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Someone gasped.

Ryan cursed under his breath.

Three seconds later, the emergency lights activated.

Dim red illumination filled the office.

The wooden box...

Was empty.

Every card had vanished.

The principal stared silently at the vacant interior.

"I..."

He looked around the room.

"I never looked away."

Neither had we.

And yet...

Just like the pocket watch.

Just like the journal.

The evidence had simply ceased to exist.

A familiar blue window materialized before my eyes.

______

[Hidden Story Progression]

Archive Protocol Active.

All registered witnesses have now been catalogued.

The Fifth Witness has entered the city.

Identity...

Pending.

Time Remaining:

72:00:00

______

The countdown began.

Seventy-two hours.

Whatever the Fifth Witness was...

It wasn’t coming.

It was already here.