《False Dendrite -heaven shouter-》Chapter 1, part 1: [From one job to another]
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"Mission complete..."
Lifting his weary legs from off the floor and propping them up on an antique desk that in no way deserved to be disgraced in such a manner, a young man leaned back in his reclining office chair and let out a long, regret-filled sigh.
This most recent job was to find proof of suspected adultery, a simple task that was the bread and butter of any private detective agency... but that fact didn't make it any less mentally taxing.
Now it definitely wasn't the "making use of a considerably vast network of informants and lookouts to find out if any illicit canoodling is actually going on in the first place" part that was the issue. After all, such things appealed to his inner delusional eighth-grader.
And it wasn't the "locating the party being illicitly canoodled with and then tailing them" part either, as any apex predator will tell you that the chase is the most satisfying part of the hunting experience.
No, it was the "obtaining photographic and/or video evidence of said canoodling" part that never failed to fill him with disgust.
Because human beings were disgusting enough without having to watch them grind their naked flesh against one another and record it all for posterity.
"At least you don't have to see that shit too..."
A long sigh escaped his lungs as he reached behind his seat and clumsily searched around for something. And once he did...
"Jailbreak! Jailbreak!"
...a large, ash-colored bird leapt from its cage while singing songs of its newfound freedom.
"Yeah, yeah..."
Laughing at the bird who was currently flying figure-eights around his head, the young man sat up in his chair and popped open the expensive container of pecans that he'd just bought with part of the bonus that his happy client shelled out when he handed over those hidden-camera pornos of her husband and his barely-legal paramour.
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"I wouldn't have to lock you up when I leave if I could trust you not to wreck up the place when I was gone, you know," he said to the bird.
"Meh," it replied as it landed on the desk.
And then hopped over to the container of pecans.
And shoved its entire head inside.
"C'mon man," the detective groaned, "I didn't even get to eat o-"
His words were cut short by a sudden splitting headache.
Instantly shifting back into serious-mode, he pulled his legs off the desk and ran towards the window...
TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP
...where one of his informants was already waiting.
"Two people are heading for the building," he reported. "Both female, just got off a bus."
"Thanks," the detective replied with a nod.
"Be careful, they seem spooked!"
"Great..."
Right when he thought he'd have some downtime, more work showed up. And that headache meant that it was more likely than not involving "that," too... which in turn increased the likelihood of actual danger.
Alas, such is the life of a freelancer.
"Yo Ankh!"
Turning away from the window, he called out to the parrot who was both covering and stuffing his face with pecans.
"Quit screwing around, we got clients!
"!!?" The parrot immediately disengaged from the container and stood at attention. "Meal tickets!"
"Yeah, that's right," he sighed, "so get into position."
----------
Lights off, blinds open just enough to give an appropriate level of shadows without sacrificing visibility.
A clean desk, save from an open notepad and a newspaper.
This was the classic "detective receiving a client" look that was drilled into him over half a decade, and he was quite confident in his execution of this time-honored tradition.
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As two pairs of footsteps echoed up the stairwell that leads to his office, the young man put on his hat, placed an elbow on his desk to support his slightly hunched-over position and waited for the arrival of the potential clients.
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CLICK
"Umm, hello...?"
A husky voice called out as the office door slowly opened, revealing a lady who looked to be in her late twenties.
Her attire consisted of the basic attire of a female professional, a simple blouse, blazer and miniskirt combo. However, the top buttons of her blouse were unfastened just enough to show off a bit of the valley between the ample mounds on her chest...
...and the way her wavy blonde hair was draped down over them only served to amplify this eye-turning effect.
Now, most people would take a glance and then take about ten more glances before concluding that she's one of those types who enjoys flaunting her assets and leaving it at that.
But a person with a more discerning eye?
They'd notice the way that she was constantly shifting her weight on those uncomfortable six-inch heels.
As well as the way that she's squinting as if she's having trouble seeing.
And also the lingering scent of bleaching product in the air.
Yes, any detective worth his salt would easily come to the conclusion that this was in fact a shy young lady who was taking considerable efforts to try and make herself appear to be more "sexy."
She'd be pretty enough without trying so hard, the detective thought to himself as he watched her carefully step into his office...
...which is when he finally spotted the girl of about twelve who was practically hiding behind the older woman. Her oversized hoodie and jeans were a stark contrast from her associate's attire, but it was clear as day from her facial features that the two were related by blood.
A suspicious mother/daughter pair.
While this definitely reeked of trouble, it also might make for a decent payday regardless. As such, the detective adjusted his hat and put on his best disinterested expression.
"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked in his usual gravelly voice.
"Er-" The older woman stared at him with a look of utter confusion. "I could have sworn I had the right address..."
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